#JEON JUNGKOOK AS A HANDSOME PRINCE

[loveroftime]

So this is love?

[moonchild1]

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅹ)

yup i've hit you with another list and once again i had so much fun putting it together... i was away for a bit but that spark came back and i'm back in action... this list holds so many amazing fics i've read it's alot of different types of storylines and some new genres i wanted to try out and i am so excited to go down that road with these new genres i haven't explored yet, but please do enjoy this list there's so many great fics here you will get lost in it i know it did, my next list should be out by next month i want to take time to read as many as i can and get back all that excitement so the next one might take a while... since these fics are so outstanding we can't forget to give all the love and support to the incredible authors who have taken the time to plan and write these fics without them we wouldn't get to read such beautiful and entertaining fics so please so them all the love and support in the world cause they truly deserve it leave them a nice comment, like and reblog the posts so others can discover them too and give them a follow and check out their masterlists i'm telling you, you will most definitely fall in love with their work and find lots of great pieces in there. most of the fics i recommend contain smut so no minors allowed and don't interact you as well as ageless blgs will be blocked and if you would like to share a fic with me you are more than welcome too i love hearing from you i hope you all enjoy this list and till next time ~ kiki ♡

f- fluff s- smut a-angst

series

between takes by @jeonstudios f s a

as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard.

i want you to stay by @ahundredtimesover f s a

Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You've dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

you're losing me by @sparklingchim s a

in the midst of marital challenges, jungkook and you grapple with the complexities of your relationship. yet, the lingering question whispers: how do you truly determine if the journey is worthwhile?

kiss the girl by @guked f s a

after saving a human prince from being drowned by the sea witch, you’re cursed by that infamous witch to live out the rest of your days as a human—unless you can manage to get true love’s kiss from that very same prince. which would be a simple task, had he not hated you the moment you met.

flux by @yoonia s a ft. myg

One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. poly au

in motion by @/yoonia s

The rule is simple; you can look but you can’t touch. You’ve been attending the event for a few times since you’ve encountered the voyeurism club, but it was only when a certain boy arrives on one occasion did you feel the fire of lust burning inside.

what the fire gave us by @gimmethatagustd f s a

↬ You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

friend in me by @ktheist f s a

“don’t confuse your party friends with your real friends.”

knife's edge by @readyplayerhobi f s a ft. pjm

The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?

take a chance by @crystaljins a

You should have known the second your business partner asked you to plan his best friend’s wedding as a favour that it was going to be nothing but trouble. Especially when it turns out he’s in love with said best friend. And dying of a deadly disease because of it.

chess of ice by @jimlingss f a

Jeon Jungkook is a rising star, aka. hockey captain of a team heading for the Olympics. The last thing he expects is to begin a whole ‘nother sport, holding a broomstick in his hand, sweeping the ice and throwing dumb stones towards a target. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his love life is about to turn into a game of chess as well....and you’re his opponent.

diamond in the rough by @kimvtae f s a

When a business heir from Busan, Jeon Jungkook, meets you, a poor girl from Daegu, he doesn’t expect to fall as quickly as he does. He’s been told for his entire life to avoid Daegu, a town riddled with gangs and a history of a brutal murder in Busan, but he can’t stay away from you, even when he’s warned that you’re not good enough for him.

try hard by @hobibliophile f s

Yoongi asks you to help him photograph the university rugby team, and you’re reluctant until you see Jeon Jungkook in uniform. Damn.

cruel intentions by @jeonqukie f s a

All is well in your overtly simplistic life. You managed to maintain decent grades in university all the while progressing through your relationship with your long-time boyfriend and accompanying your best friend in her exhausting personal life. But as the saying goes when there are ups, there will surely be downs. While you’ve maintained this upward pattern, you are defeated when one afternoon inevitably brings you to a downward spiral. All good things must come to an end. Who knew you would be sharing the same sentiment with someone you barely know.

sillage by @deerguk s

Soulmate!AU where soulmates are drawn to one another by the infliction of physical touch, whether it be pain or pleasure. But it is only initiated once the two people somewhat interact.

remote learning by @hansolmates s

working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two.

when it rains by @choiwrites s a

Being an exotic dancer was never easy. Every day was the same for you, until you reached that one breaking point you’ve been avoiding since your miserable life started. On a rainy night, Jungkook and his yellow umbrella were your last call of hope.

hate at first weeb by artaemis, freckleyoon (ao3)

You just want to weeb in peace but your annoying downstairs neighbour just won't let you breathe

wanted by @jincherie s a

You were a deserter, a renegade, a wanted “criminal”. It was never in your plans to crash land on that planet, and it most certainly wasn’t in your plans to fall in love with it’s handsome ruler.  

everything in you by @jjungkookislife f s a

You want a baby and Jungkook is willing to help. f2l, roommates au, pregnant!reader

home for the holidays by @/jjungkookislife f s a

Jungkook is in desperate need to find a girlfriend for Christmas. His mom has nagged and nagged about him bringing someone home for the holidays. Determined, Jungkook recruits his friends in hopes of finding the right girl to take home. In need of a place to stay, and no plans for Christmas, you answer his friend’s ad. You have 25 days to convince not only his parents but his grandmother that you’re in a real relationship, solid enough to get through Christmas with the Jeons.

every breath you take by @junqkook s a

everything was going great when you first met jeon jungkook. he was a new light in your life with soft smiles and tinkling laughs; but then you noticed a lurking presence that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

navy by @jjkfire f a

He’s your best friend, practically your other half and the two of you have always promised to be there for each other no matter what. The both of you have dreams of professionally making music together one day and to you it’s almost like reality, a given really, and with each day, the dream starts to feel like it’s within reach. But, one day, with one sentence, Jungkook destroys it all.

wicked by @adonis-koo s a

In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

paper doll by @winetae s a

When the nation’s little sister, IU, gets into a huge scandal, your agency seizes the opportunity to thrust you into that now vacant spotlight. Your self-composed song Paper Doll becomes an overnight sensation, and soon people are itching to find out who was the one who broke your heart. All hell breaks loose once netizens discover that you used to date popular idol, Jeon Jungkook. Little do they know that it wasn’t him who left the relationship unscathed — it was you.

one shot

the devil's change up by @jungblue f s

Majoring in athletic training means you have mandatory observation hours to perform with every single sports team at your school throughout the year, and so far it’s been going pretty great. However, when regrets from your past cause your rotation with the baseball team to become a little rocky, there’s one star pitcher who says that he can make it all better. 

this is how we break up by @/ahundredtimesover s a

There are things you prepared for coming back home and that includes seeing your ex-boyfriend, but helping him design his apartment isn’t one of them. From meetings over coffee and lunches with your friends, you both learn more about the time in-between, and what you find out leave you heartbroken, wondering if there’s enough of you left to try to get back what you’d lost. “You know what they say about past lovers remaining friends? It’s either they never loved each other to begin with, or they still do. And we all know how much they loved each other, don’t we?”

a piece of the moonlight by @/jimlingss f a

For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

the quest to bedding the lead singer of frontman by @kpopfanfictrash s

Frontman is your favorite band in the world and honestly, the only reason you waited this long in line is to stand at the front for a shot with the lead singer. Enter sexy sound boy, who just won’t leave you alone. (punk!Jungkook)

heartbreak trials by @dreamyjoons s a

it all started with a bet: the one with the highest body count would get the most illustrious prize - Namjoon’s bedroom. For you and Jungkook, the race was on.

perhaps love by @mangowillow f a

for as long as you can remember, you have been in love with your childhood friend turned roommate, but jeon jungkook remains oblivious even when he comes to comfort and help you sleep every night.

what? now by @theharrowing f s

For as long as you and Jungkook have been friends, your feelings for him have been unrequited. Or have they?

lilac wisteria by @blushoseoks f a

the first time jeon jungkook says that he is going to marry you, you are five years old sitting underneath a large wisteria tree.

tell me no lies by @jeongi f s a

You chose to rob your boss, however; you never expected to fall in love with him.

mcd*ckin by @jinned s

"So, if I'm so predictable," you tease, running your finger along his clothed chest, "what am I going to do next?"

things you said while you were driving by @cupofteaguk f

post breakup au

(y)our name by @jjkpls f s a ft ot 6

It’s always been the two of you since you were little. People came and went in your lives and Jungkook didn’t mind until you turn into grown-ups and he starts to mind a bit too much.

(un)welcomed addition by @shuadotcom f a

After a drunken one night stand with your neighbor, you have your reasons for wanting to forget it ever happened and never talk to him again. Unfortunately, Jungkook wins the award for the world’s worst neighbor so his 3 am wakeup calls and mail stealing have you banging at his door on an almost weekly basis. You just want to make it to the end of your lease so you can leave all the traces of the fuckboy next door behind...unless your feelings get in the way of course.

Just Like the Movies by @/shuadotcom f s a

When you need a fake date for your cousin’s wedding and all of your other friends have plans, that only leaves your best friend Jungkook - who you also happen to be completely in love with. It’ll be easy getting through a week of fake dating him, right?

watermelon sugar by @/shuadotcom f s a

When your friends outvote you for your annual summer trip, you end up stuck at a beachside town. To make it worse, there’s an irritating local surfer boy that won’t leave you alone… that is until you see him shirtless and in the water - then you don’t want him to leave you alone and your unexpected summer romance begins.

take my whole life by @/ktheist f s a

chaebol au. arranged marriage au. expecting parents au.

never let you go by @yeojaa f s

You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud.  Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t. (or:  Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

speaking in bodies by @/yeojaa f s a

The holidays have never meant much to you - less a promise of Christmas morning joy and more a reminder of all the things you’ve lost.  Some would call you a grinch; others, just a plain old asshole.  Jeon Jungkook would call you both.  The more time you spend together, though, the more you thaw, melting beneath the sun that seems to sit right in the centre of his chest.

howling for you by @fortunexkookie f s

The way your Little Red Riding Hood costume lured over a fuckboy in a half-assed werewolf costume was a little cliche, but god damn was he beautiful. He promised he had plenty of big things to show you, and you took him up on the offer, not realizing that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew

cold nights & blurred lines by @awrkive f s a

jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

christmas is waiting for you by @/lamourche f s ft myg (ao3)

Being home for the holidays surrounded by your well-meaning family isn’t that bad. All you have to do is (1) survive the Andersons’ annual Christmas Eve party, (2) avoid all questions about your job, and (3) avoid your high school nemesis (not a crush!), Jeon Jungkook.

lost stars by @/subvk f s a (ao3)

Falling in love with Jeon Jungkook was everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, but maybe it was exactly that: a dream so blissful and comforting that it was too good to be true, something that could all disappear when the night changes to day, and your eyes open again. Or, making a marriage pact with your best friend was supposed to instill a sense of hope for you, so why does this hurt you more than it should?

a beautiful epiphany by @/subvk f s a (ao3)

Derailed by heartbreak and the loss of inspiration, Jeon Jungkook tries to rediscover his love for art again. As his best friend, you’re willing to do anything to help him reignite his lost passion. Little do you know that the struggling artist’s new muse is closer than you think.

the philosophy of goodluck by @kidguk f s

“you told me i looked good and that you needed to get a tattoo of my face” is not the explanation you wanted to hear from the tattoo artist that permanently etched the dumbest drunken request of your life onto your skin.

mountebank by @/kidguk f s ft. pjm

Soulmate AU featuring Jimin, in which you’ve been waking up next to your soul-enemy and running from your soul-mate. Figure that mess out, will you? 

holidays of breads and wood by @cutaepatootie f a

Every December now smells like freshly baked bread and wood to you. Its cold wind brings you memories of him every morning as you are kneading your mixture of water, flour and a pinch of nutmeg – the secret ingredient that makes your bread taste so special. It seeps through the open window of your small kitchen and shakes your entire body. It seeps under your flour-stained apron, getting through your clothes and reminding you of his soft touch. It sounds like forest and shines like snow under the sunlight. It fills your nostrils with familiar scents. Every December now feels like distant memories of a man you once knew, who loved to carve his dreams in wood.

a fallen bookmark on a thursday afternoon by @/cutaepatootie f s a

He came to you like the air comes into the train station after the fast arriving of the machine. It comes fast and unexpected, making you hoist your head to look at the long vehicle and the people inside. It is so fast you can’t even distinguish the different wagons. As the train comes to a stop, the wind that it creates plays with your hair, leaving you breathless. That’s how Jeon Jungkook came into your life.

every kind of way by @gukslut s

Three little vignettes, three completely different experiences, same perfectly wonderful boyfriend JK

heavy lifting by @snackhobi f

you work the night shift in a supermarket. and now your crush, aka the cutest boy in the world, aka the guy you’ve been thirsting after for months, aka jeon jungkook, works the night shift too.

blue orchid by @inkedtae f a

hanahaki & soulmate au

up to snow good by @aredheadedmess f a

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

cherry bomb by @milfgyuu f s

You’re a cocktail waitress in a high end nightclub and you’ve been mutually crushing on one of the bartenders. Tonight, one of your customers oversteps boundaries and when Jungkook gets involved, you’re ready to toss your ‘no dating co-workers’ policy out the window. 

work it out by @/choiwrites s

You never would have thought that you’d be working with the college dropout who was coincidentally your best friend’s ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Saying his name already burns your tongue, you wonder how long you can hold your professionalism around him.

all in by @iamjungkooked s a

Jeon Jungkook is everything you have ever desired in a partner. He’s kind, passionate, funny, honest, warm and every positive adjective in the dictionary. He totally gets you and you get him. He seems like the perfect guy for you, except he is dating your best friend. What could possibly go wrong?  OR  The four times you get the wind knocked out of you by Jeon Jeongguk

until my last breath by @/iamjungkooked s a

Sporting an undercut and tattoos Jeon Jungkook waltzes back in your life after 5 years of being away. You think you know him– and just when you think you have gotten close, he reveals a secret (or two). Following this, is a series of trials and tribulations that concludes in a way you never expect. (Alternatively: the one where Jungkook creates a mess out of you)

está dañada by @aquagustd f s a

life through the eyes of someone who watches you fall apart and helps gather the shards of your heart, only for you to make the same mistake time and time again, but he refuses to accept the truth because to him, you’re infallible.

coin toss by @yoondoze a

you and jeongguk go way back, even before you were the menacing duo many knew you to be, even before he brought you into the mafia and left you there to join the city’s detective agency. a call for cooperation comes out of a common enemy, requiring the two of you to reconcile for one last mission.

wonder by @bubmyg f a

romance novels lie about finding some deep epiphany in the ocean because you find your inspiration in some chlorine tainted red locks or where jeongguk isn’t smooth with a pool net. 

starboy by @sugaxjpg s

Jeon Jungkook was, above anything else, the type you should not get involved with. He was the guy who slept around; the guy who was gone before you woke up; who left a path of broken hearts and missed calls wherever he went. He was right in just about every wrong way. That being said, maybe the bet you made with your friend could be the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and even enough to break the chain of misfortune that circled your party nights — after all, it was all just a simple, four-part plan to make Jungkook beg for you. What could possibly go wrong?

symmetry by @adriftmoonchild s a

with both of you being from rival houses, the smirk that jungkook seemed to throw in your direction every shared class did nothing for your disdain towards him. as far as you were concerned he was arrogant and childish; you just wished he wasn’t so damn good in bed.

little surfer girl by @ppersonna f s a

every summer you watched jeon jungkook turn into a perfect, professional surfer.  every summer, you wanted him more. this summer, you were determined to make him yours.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

[wildestdreamsblog]

a one shot w jk and the one night stand scenario pls pls i beg 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ delulu levels r off the charts ever since ck

What he wants, he gets

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (idol au)

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

3000 celebration

‘Fuck,’ you mouthed as you looked down at your bare body covered only by a white sheet, and then slowly and horrifyingly turned to look at the man beside you. Your eyes widened even further, your heart beat faster as recognition dawned on your face.

Fuck, indeed.

You let your head fell back down on the pillow in frustration. You couldn’t even have the luxury of experiencing any onslaught of confusion about what happened the night before because you knew full well. The soreness in between your thighs and the marks you could see scattered on your chest were enough to tell you what shouldn’t have happened.

You blamed the alcohol.

You even blamed the man beside you.

But worst of all, you blamed yourself.

You meant, in the first place, why did you allow yourself to go out and drink and completely lost it?!

And of all the people you could have slept with, why on earth did you sleep with the Jeon Jungkook?!

God, you knew you had to leave before he even woke up. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he would react when he saw you beside him. He would probably think you tricked him somehow.

With bated breath, you lifted the heavy arm filled with artistic tattoos. You carefully watched his face, taking note of the way he whined when you left his arm. He was frowning adorably before you place a pillow in his arm.

You looked down at his handsome face. His dark, luscious hair was like a halo in perfect contrast to the white pillow. His slightly agape lips looked as kissable as they did last night. Jeon Jungkook looked like a dark prince that stepped out of a fairytale. He looked like a dream with his innocent face and his eyes filled with childlike wonder, yet his sinful body told a different story.

Sadly, you had to leave the dream and wake up.

You just wished he didn’t recognize you.

With a small, bitter smile on your lips, you kissed his cheek softly. And with that, you left. In your haste, you unknowingly left behind your bracelet with your name engraved on the inside,

Three weeks passed and yet, the memory of your time with him was still deeply etched in your mind. The way he kept looking at you in secret, a shy smile gracing his lips, the way the colorful lights from the club reflected on him, the way he finally built the courage to walk to you- they were all living rent free in your mind. The marks he so delightfully left in your skin may have already faded, but you could still feel him. The way he was so shy when he approached you was so opposite to how he was when he was on stage. The way he laughed at your jokes was like music in your ears… and the way he looked at you with interest and shyness both glinting in his eyes made you pull him by his clothes to kiss him. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to forget. You have to if you were going to work with the group.

“Until when are you going to sulk, Jungkookie?” Jin asked the youngest maknae, his voice both worried and with a hint of sermon. Ever since he woke up hours later without you and with no trace of you except the bracelet you left behind, he felt angry. That was almost a month ago and everyone in the group could feel the shift in his mood and it was affecting them.

Jungkook was someone who was often laidback, someone who didn’t want to feel negative emotions. However, everyone knew he hated when he was being ignored and what you were doing was the highest form of neglect he had ever felt in his life.

“Until I see her again,” he answered quietly, his eyes focused on the bracelet he was wearing. It was tight on his wrist, but he didn’t care. This bracelet was the only information he had on you.

“Jungkook, you know we always give you everything you want. But we can’t give you her. Not when we don’t know anything about her except her first name,” Namjoon explained gently, his patience endless when it came to the golden maknae. He could see how you were able to affect Jungkook. This was the first time they saw him be attracted to someone, really attracted to someone.

Because if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t lose sleep over you. He wouldn’t go home to his hyungs with tears in his eyes saying he lost you. He wouldn’t still look for you if you were meaningless.

“You’ll find her, Jungkook. We’ll help you, okay? But now, we need you to focus in this meeting.”

The meeting ran long. It was both draining yet productive to the boys. After deciding to call it a day, Jungkook walked out of the room. His eyes were focused on his phone when he felt someone ran into him. His hand immediately went out to steady her.

The girl bowed down her head in apology, her hair covering her face as she refused to meet Jungkook’s doe eyes. He tilted his head, about to ask her if she was okay. His large hand was still touching her forearm when he caught her.

And he felt something he couldn’t name.

Your heart beat faster. It was just your luck to run into him when you thought you successfully evaded him the whole meeting. But there was no way he recognized you, right?

“Have..have we met before?” He asked in confusion, his voice deep as he tried to peek at your face.

“N-no,” you answered while shaking your head, your hair still carefully placed in front of you. Your eyes were now on his hand that was still touching you. Your eyes widened when you recognized that bracelet.

It was yours.

Why was he wearing that?

In your surprise, you looked up at his dark and beautiful eyes. And before he could even process anything, you were apologizing yet again and walking as fast as you could to the elevator without looking suspicious.

Jungkook turned his broad back on you, his brows furrowed as he tried to remember your features and where he saw you. It was merely a second, only full second that he got to see your face before you hid behind your hair again.

You really looked familiar.

You felt familiar.

Could you be-

“Y/N! Enjoy your weekend!”

You had just entered when your coworker saw you. She waved at you, unknowing about the chaos she created.

The elevator was closing when you looked up and saw Jungkook snapped his head to you. His eyes looked betrayed as recognition finally dawned on him.

It was you.

It was your name. With purpose, he ran to the elevator only for him to miss it by half a second. You slumped back to the wall. There was no way that he didn’t recognize you now, his face told you everything.

Fuck. He was fucking mad.

He was fuming mad. He probably thought that you took advantage of him, never minding that he was bigger and stronger than you.

But still, he was younger than you by almost two years. You closed your eyes, praying this was all a bad dream. But the elevator finally dinged, signaling the basement floor. You opened your eyes just as the elevator door opened, only to reveal a huffing Jungkook.

He was breathing hard after running down the flights of stairs. There was no way in hell you would escape him now, not when he finally found you.

His dark clothes made him looked more imposing, more dangerous. His booted feet entered the elevator slowly, sauntering to where you were practically glued to the wall.

“Why are you running from me, noona?” He asked with his head tilted to the side. His voice was soft, but he was anything but.

Jungkook was both happy, yet angry. Happy that he finally found you. Angry that you had once again ran away from him, something that you weren’t allowed to do anymore.

Not when he finally found you.

“J-jungkook, that night was a mistake. I’m sorry,” you said with shaky voice, your hand stretched out in front of you to stop him from cornering you even further.

“Noona, how could you leave me alone?” He asked you with a pout, his hand caressing your face. Fucking finally. Finally, he could touch you again. “You promised me that you wouldn’t leave me.”

What?

“It wasn’t a mistake…it was meant to be,” he continued despite your grip on his thick wrist. You tried to stop him, but he was too determined and strong. His large body crowded you. He looked down at you with dark eyes, his eyebrow piercing glinting from the elevator’s light.

“But I forgive you. We’ll start again, noona.”

You were attracted to him, really you were. But the way he was right now, the way he sounded almost…terrifying, woke you up from the dream you were in. Jungkook was no prince charming.

“I need you to step back, Jungkook,” you said with a strong voice, pushing him away to no avail. “We need to talk about this?”

Jungkook chuckled darkly. “You want to talk? Fine, we’ll talk, noona.”

And before you knew it, he leaned down and your body was thrown over his wide shoulder.

Who would hear your cry for help in the basement? Who would stop him?

“Is that her?” Taehyung asked as he watched their maknae carried someone over his shoulder. He was finally smiling. No one knew this side of Jungkook. Behind his sweet smiles and personality, Jeon Jungkook was an obsessive man. No one knew, and unlucky you, you were about to experience first hand.

“It seems like,” Jimin answered before smiling.

No one could really control their maknae. What he wanted, he got.

Alternative ending

[hellbornsworld]

BTS X READER WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(2) ⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

✨Hostess | BTS X Reader | Author : blingchick | 47 Parts | Completed

"A whore is someone who sells their body; a hostess is someone who entertains guests to make them feel welcomed and loved. There is a difference."

✨𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐑 | BTS | No Reader | Author : godlycurse | 140 Parts | Completed

In which Kim Taehyung tweets at a Dora the Explorer twt account and gets a creepy dm from them. Soon , he realizes he got himself into some deep sh*t and has to discover who's behind the account before it's to late.

✨Survival | BTS X OC | 1000% | Slow Burn | Author : BangtanArmies | 155 Parts | Completed

A tragic love story filled with pain, betrayals, miseries and deadly plot twists.

✨Buttons | BTS X Reader | Coraline!AU | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 31 Parts | Completed

"Nothing's changed. You'll go home. You'll be bored. You'll be ignored. No one will listen to you, really listen to you. You're too clever and too beautiful for them to understand. They don't even remember your name."

✨ Mask Parade | BTS X Reader | Author : blingchick | 33 Parts | Ongoing

"Sometimes it's not the people who change, it's the mask that falls off."

✨killjoy | Only BTS | Author : taenology | 50 Parts | Completed

a computer game can't hurt anyone, right?

✨The Keeper's Tale | BTS X Reader | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 45 Parts | Completed

They witnessed her destruction, They were left to wonder why, She saw nothing but darkness, Though the stars shown in her eyes, But maybe they'd forgotten, When they failed to see the cracks, That a stars light shines brightest, When it starts to collapse.

✨Singularity | BTS x Reader | Author : mociminji | 36 Parts | Ongoing

You were stolen by the devil. He claimed you as his own. Little did he know, you are going to be the death of him.

✨The Seven | BTS X Reader | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 45 Parts | Completed

"I'm crazy? No, darling. What's crazy is that the world refuses to let me be with you."

✨Black Swan | BTS X Reader | Author : blingchick | 17 Parts | Ongoing

"What are you going to do to me now, Swan?"

✨The 7 Princes | BTS X Reader | Author : FireTiger8 | 82 Parts | Completed

Surprise! Your parents have been keeping a secret from you - you are royal princess and sole heir to the throne. To break the news to you, your parents have sent you to a neighboring kingdom where seven handsome, irresistible princes will teach you all you need to know about becoming the next ruler.

✨The Blue Eyes Series | BTS X Reader | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 4 Books | Ongoing

# BOOK 1 The Four Kingdoms |

There's a fire in her. If loved correctly, she will warm your entire home. If abused, she will burn it to ash.

# BOOK 2 Pyramids |

She didn't need a crown, because she wasn't a queen.... She was a goddess.

# BOOK 3 Dynasty |

You can say she's crazy, but her eyes see the spirits of the past.... She talks to them.... And they talk back.

# BOOK 4 Mist |

You watch her walk away and it hits you that she is an entire ocean And you were wrong, so very wrong Because you let her go Thinking she was just a girl

✨Gods of the Sea | BTS!Vocal Liner X Reader | Author : FireTiger8 | 87 Parts | Completed

"My name is Captain Jeon Jungkook. I'm here to kidnap you."

✨Badboy | BTS X Reader | OneShots | Author : shooknae | 8 Parts | Completed

7 boys, 7 chapters, 7 different stories

✨Oh My Gospel! | BTS X Reader | Author : mociminji | 88 Parts | Ongoing

In which you are a prude theology student and one day, your sneaky twin brother sent you a link to the livestream of an infamous camboy, Park Jimin.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Other Posts:

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION (1)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(2)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(3)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(4)

ALL BTS MEMBERS WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(1)

[guqwrvte]

make it three | three

⨽ summary: everything made sense to you, until it didn’t. you expected the name of your soulmate to appear on your shoulder the day you turned twenty one. and on the day of your twenty first birthday, that happened, but instead of one name, there were three.

⨽ pairing: vminkook x reader

⨽ genre: fluff , soulmate au , slow burn (?)

⨽ warnings: strong language

⨽ word count: 3.5k

Alright, so the names are Jungkook and Taehyung, right?" Yeonjun asked, and you nodded. "And what's the name of the group Jimin's part of?"

"BTS. I think…" you said, and he hummed in response before he began to type in their names.

"Jungkook, BTS…" He muttered before he pressed search.

You anxiously bit your lip as the search results slowly began to show. You didn't know what to expect.

"Okay, so apparently, he's turning twenty-six this year! It says he's about 1,79m tall, and his full name is Jeon Jungkook," Yeonjun read. "And oh my gosh, are those real?"

You shifted closer to Yeonjun and rested your chin on his shoulder so you could look at his phone.

"He's so handsome, oh my gosh. The tattoos, the piercings, oh my," Yeonjun gasped as he scrolled through the many pictures that appeared once he clicked on images.

In some pictures, he looked like a bad boy straight out of a teen romance movie, mask up, dressed in all black and chunky shoes. Not to mention his sleeve of tattoos and multiple piercings. And in others, where he wore a simple hoodie and sweatpants with a backpack on his back, he looked like a typical student.

The man had pretty doe eyes, and in the photos where he wasn't wearing a mask and could see his smile, his smile that reminded you of a bunny.

When he's dressed in brighter colours and his sleeve of tattoos is covered, Jungkook's entire appearance screams adorable. Until you see other pictures of him. You'll realise that despite his round face, he had a sharp jawline, and suddenly he isn't so adorable.

"Your soulmates were blessed with looks. If Taehyung is this handsome… girl, the universe favours you," Yeonjun commented before tapping the search bar to type in the other name on your shoulder.

The two of you were in the student lounge, using google to find out about your other soulmates while waiting for Yuna's photography lecture to end.

"Now, let's see if Taehyung is part of BTS or just Jimin's friend group," Yeonjun said. "Taehyung. BTS… and search!"

Again, you were nervous because you didn't know what to expect.

"Okay, so his name is V… but it says it's just his stage name!" he told you. "His real name is Kim Taehyung, around the same height as Jungkook, and he's turning twenty-eight," he read before clicking on images to see what he looked like.

"Holy shit… is this man even real," he gasped as he scrolled through the images.

Your eyes widened when you looked at one of the pictures.

The man's visual screamed royalty. His piercing eyes, sharp jaw and angular features reminded you of a cold prince. In some of the pictures you saw, he had a stern and mysterious look, and if you hadn't seen a picture of him smiling, you definitely would have thought he was a cold person.

In the pictures where he was smiling, Taehyung's rectangular smile was bright. And like Jimin, his eyes seemed to disappear when he smiled.

"Holy shit, he's just as beautiful as the other two-" Yeonjun muttered as he stared at one of the pictures. "The universe favours you. Like, how are all three of these handsome guys yours?"

"Actually, we don't know that yet. My soulmates Jungkook and Taehyung could be different from this Jungkook and Taehyung." Your friend rolled his eyes at your words.

"Oh, come on, y/n. I can google Taehyung without putting BTS, and the same guy will show up."

"He might not be famous," you mumbled. It was hard for you to believe that all three of these men could… well, be your soulmates.

"What are you two talking about?" You and Yeonjun glanced over your shoulders around to see Yuna.

"Hey, Yuna. We're talking about y/n's other soulmates and looking at pictures of them," Yeonjun told her before looking back at his phone.

"Really? So did you find out if Taehyung's part of BTS?" she asked as she made her way to the seat next to yours.

"Yeah, he is. Also, because of what you said earlier, y/n doesn't want to believe that these two handsome guys are her soulmates," Yeonjun told her.

"Why don't you ask Jimin? I'm sure he'll give you the answer you're looking for," Yuna suggested, and he hummed in agreement.

"Why don't you do that? It's not like he can say no. Those guys are your soulmates, too," Yeonjun said.

Unbeknownst to you, your soulmates were having a conversation similar to yours.

"Do you think y/n's curious about us? Like what we look like and stuff?" Jungkook asked as he closed the now-empty water bottle

"I don't know, but I think she is. She's probably googled, you guys. Just like she did with me," Jimin chuckled.

"I wish y/n was an idol or something, so we could just google her too. I want to know what she looks like." Taehyung softly whined as he rested his head on Jimin's shoulder.

"We should add y/n to the group chat," Jungkook said. "I don't think I'' be able to wait until we meet in person to talk to her."

"So you want to text her first?" Jimin asked, and Jungkook nodded. "You don't want to call her anything like that? A video call, so can she see your faces?"

"I feel like a call would be awkward," Taehyung muttered. "Unlike you, we've never talked to the woman."

"Yeah…" Jungkook sighed. "I feel like we should connect with each other over text first. I don't want her to see me like this."

The three soulmates had just finished practising choreography and were taking a break.

"I think you look hot, though," Jimin joked. "I'm sure y/n wouldn't mind seeing you like this."

"But I do mind," Jungkook whined. "It's the first time she'll be seeing me. I can't let her see me like this…"

"I agree with Jungook. It's too early for y/n to see us like this," Taehyung chuckled before opening a bottle of water and taking a sip.

"Okay. I'll add y/n to the group chat," Jimin told them before opening his phone to add you to their exclusive soulmate group chat.

You looked at your phone with wide eyes before excitedly trying to show one of your friends your screen.

"What? For me to see your screen, you'll have to stop shaking it in my face," Yuna sighed before taking your phone from your hand.

"What is it?" Yeonjun asked, trying to look at what you wanted to show them.

"Looks like y/n's going to interact with her other soulmates."

"Really? What did Jimin say?" He asked with his eyes slightly opened wide. "He added her to a group chat called Corei3 and sent a text saying that they, which I'm guessing are her other soulmates, to somewhat introduce themselves. And now an unknown number is typing." Yuna explained.

"What are you doing? Give y/n her phone back so she can talk to them!"

-

jimin has added you to: corei3

jimin: you two can somewhat introduce yourselves or whatever.

unknown(1): lemme change the name first since it’s no longer the three of us.

unknown changed the name to corei4

unknown(1): now i can introduce myself. hi, i’m jk!

unknown(2): we’re introducing ourselves to our soulmate, not some people in the crowd of people at our interviews 🤦‍♂️

unknown(2): i’m taehyung by the way. kim taehyung.

unknown(1): jk stands for jungkook which is me. i’m jeon jungkook.

you: i think you guys already know who i am.

taehyung: you could say we kind of do. we know your name and your age, just not what you like.

jungkook: only jimin knows what you look like :(

jimin: i don’t think y/n know what you two look like either.

you: i do know what they look like because i kind of googled them too 😅

jungkook: hoping you didn’t come across any of my old embarrsing pics 😩

you: out of all the pictures i saw, i don’t think any of them are embarrassing. you looked good in each one. including taehyung.

jungkook: o///o

"Why are they all staring at their phones like that? And Jungkook's all red in the face, too," one of the members commented, cringing as he watched their younger members.

"Didn't you hear, Yoongi? Jimin found their last soulmate while he was out one night," another told him. "So, I guess they're talking to her right now. I mean… we've only ever seen them smile like that with each other."

"I hope I don't look or act the same when I find my soulmate," Yoongi muttered, shaking his head.

"I honestly feel like you're going to be ten times worse than they are," The leader said with a chuckle.

"Nah, nothing can beat whatever the fuck that is. We're witnessing a lovesick soulmate but times three."

"How are her cheeks not sore? She's been staring at her phone with that stupid smile for the past fifteen minutes," Yuna said, causing Yeonjun sighed.

"You wouldn't understand what she's feeling right now, Yuns. You haven't found your soulmate yet."

-

core.i4 groupchat

jungkook: now we know what we look like, and y/n knows who’s who, let’s go out or something 😩

jimin: you do realise going out will be hard for us, right? no one outside of the company knows we’re soulmates, imagine if they catch us with a girl?

taehyung: we can just say she’s a friend? i mean it’s not like we’re going out as just me and her or just jungkook and her. it’s all three of us going out with her.

jimin: fine, but we need to ask one of the managers first. we might need to book out a place too, and make sure y/n’s pretty covered up.

you: why? 🧍‍♀️

jimin: i can’t afford to have you exposed to the public so soon.

jungkook: life as an idol is tough. people are almost always in our business. if anyone gets a glimpse of you with one of us… you’ll be all over the internet in a couple of hours.

taehyung: right… i didn’t think of that.

you: so… we won’t be able to go out?

jimin: we can still meet up… it’s just going to have be an indoor date.

taehyung: something we’re used to.

jungkook: i think we can still have an outside date! we’ll just have to be cautious.

jimin: i managed to go to a club yesterday without getting caught. being able to go to a restaurant will be easy.

taehyung: don’t forget you’re not going in and out alone. you’re going in and out with three people. two men and a woman. 🧍‍♂️

jungkook: slipping in and out won’t be an easy task, my love.

jimin: we’ll make a plan 😭

-

"What're you guys talking about?" Yeonjun asked as he tried to peek over your shoulder.

"Jungkook wants us to go out," you told them. "But it's going to be tricky since they're famous, and them being seen with me could cause problems."

"So, are you just going to have an indoor meeting?" Yuna asked, and you shrugged.

"Jimin says they're gonna make a plan, but I don't know…"

"This is why I lowkey wish my soulmate isn't famous. Or at least, isn't a kpop idol because I know how ruthless the fans can be," Yuna sighed, shaking her head, which caused you to frown.

"Are their fans that scary?" You asked, and she nodded.

"Very. Well… the delusional ones who think the idol shouldn't be allowed to date anyone else but them," Yuna explained.

"People actually think that? In a world where your partner is determined by the soulmate system?" Yeonjun asked, sounding as equally shocked as you are. She hummed in response.

"Yep, they can get dragged and cancelled for falling in love if the fans are insane enough. But don't worry, not all the fans like that. Many fans know their place, and some even route for their idols to find love," she said.

Yuna managed to answer your silent question about whether all of their fans were like that.

"I don't know much about your soulmates' fandom, but I'm sure majority of them are chill. I mean, I've only bumped into one or two crazy ones. The rest were cool. But then again, I haven't met a lot of BTS stans."

"So those guys are right for wanting to take any precautions. Wait, but does anyone know that they're soulmates?" Yeonjun asked, and Yuna shook her head.

"Not that I'm aware. I don't remember seeing any articles or posts about the members' soulmates when I looked into the group. Meaning y/n, the members, and probably some staff know about the three being in a cluster."

"And us. We know that too. Wait, OMG, I just realised I have to keep such a huge secret! Oh… but that means y/n can't let other people know who her soulmates are," Yeonjun said, causing you to sigh.

"To be honest… I don't think I mind," you told them. "Sure, it would be nice to go out publicly and post about them like I've always wanted to, but I don't mind."

You were just happy to have found them.

"I'd rather be with them in secret than not be with them at all," you smiled.

You looked at the time and sighed. "I need to catch the bus. I have to go home since I have an assignment to finish."

"Right," Yuna said, getting up. "I need to meet some people in my cinematography class for a group project."

"So we're all just going home?" Yeonjun asked, and the two of you nodded. "Alright."

"See you two tomorrow!"

"I feel bad y/n has to keep us a secret," Taehyung muttered while Jimin groaned, running his fingers through his hair. "Even though we have to hide our relationship, at least I can be seen in public with both of you."

"As much as I love my job and our fans, sometimes I wish I wasn't an idol. Sometimes I wish I was a regular person who wasn't part of a popular boy group."

"Same here," Jungkook said, closing his eyes. " I wouldn't have to hide the actual kind of relationship we have. I'd peacefully go out without worrying whether dispatch might see me."

"Hey, but at least we got permission to go out with her," Taehyung said.

The three members came from a meeting with some of the managers and told them about you, their last soulmate.

"I know. Even though avoiding the public eye will be difficult, I can't wait to go out as a complete cluster of soulmates," Jungkook said, happily clapping his hands.

"What do you think you wanna do, though? Should we have a typical first-date dinner? Go to an amusement park and have the kind of date you see in romance movies?" Jimin asked.

"Let's ask y/n. I mean, the girl is the reason we're going out, right?" Taehyung said.

-

taehyung: y/n~ you there? 👀

jungkook: we have something to ask you!

jimin: we got permission to take you out and we wanna know where you’d like to go.

taehyung: and what kind of date you’d like to have.

jungkook: a formal dinner date or got to out to an amusement park? or even something more fun?

y/n: i’m not the kind of person who enjoys going to fancy dinners and that kind of stuff, but how will be able to go to an amusement park? they’ll be too many people 🧍‍♀️

jungkook: we can book it out or something.

jimin: yeah, as if the managers would let us do that.

jungkook: it’s our money we’re spending though.

jimin: yeah but that’s a lot of work. too much work when it’s just going to be four of us. Plus, it’ll also just ruin the whole amusement experience it’s the only the four of us who go there.

taehyung: you’re the one who brought up the idea of going to an amusement park, though 🧍‍♂️

jimin: i didn’t think it through, shut up👨‍🦯

jungkook: since you don’t like fancy dinner where would you like to go?

y/n: how about an arcade? i haven’t been to one in a minute.

jungkook: i love playing games so why not?

jimin: an arcade is definitely easier to book out.

taehyung: but what about food? are we just going to play games? :(

jungkook: no, we can probably get some street food if we want something to eat.

y/n: ooo, i love street food. 😋

jimin: you guys are forgetting the whole avoid public eye thing. 🤦‍♂️

taehyung: to be honest, i kind of want to be around people.

jungkook: lowkey same… 🤸‍♂️

y/n: i’m used to be being around people 😅

jimin: fine, we might as well as go to an arcade without booking out the place since you guys want to be around people so bad 🚶‍♂️

taehyung: but will they allow us?

jungkook: we’ll just have to beg.

jimin: and if they do agree, we’re going to have to make sure we’re pretty disguised but not too much. we need to blend in after all.

y/n: so, we’re going to an arcade?

taehyung: that’s the plan

y/n: okay, when are we going and where should we meet?

jungkook: most likely thursday, it will be a weekday so they won’t be that many people and we’re pretty much free on that day.

taehyung: and just send us your location, we’ll pick you up.

y/n: uh sure. xxxxxxxxxxx

jungkook: wait that’s not so far from our personal house.

jimin: he’s right. it’s like a ten minute away from ours?

y/n: personal house?

taehyung: it’s an apartment where just the three of us live. the rest of them members live in the main house one or with their soulmates.

y/n: oh, your other members have found their soulmates?

jungkook: just namjoon, actually. but yeah.

jimin: anyway, is everyone okay with thursday, from 5 pm to around 8 pm? i don’t to send y/n home late and we have a busy schedule the day after.

y/n: yeah, that seems perfect to me.

jungkook: yeah, that’s fine.

taehyung: that’s perfect.

jimin: great. see you tomorrow

"Looks like I have a date with my soulmates tomorrow," you told your friends as you turned off your phone.

"So they made a plan?" Yeonjun asked, causing Yuna to roll her eyes.

"y/n just told us her date is tomorrow. So if they're going on a date, doesn't that automatically mean they made a plan?"She asked.

"Jeez, sorry," your friend scoffed. "Anyway, is it a formal or casual date? And- wait, since your relationship has to remain a secret, will your soulmates book out a whole restaurant or something? I heard that's a thing famous people do."

"One question at a time, Yeonie. Give the poor girl a chance to speak," Yuna said.

Yeonjun muttered a soft apology as you chuckled.

"I'd say casual since we're going to an arcade," you said.

"Arcade? Are they actually going to book out an arcade?" Yeonjun asked with wide eyes.

"At first… they were, but Taehyung and Jungkook wanted to go out and be around people. And I don't really mind," you told them. "You know… since I'm used to being in public places without having to hide."

"Ah, it's the kind of date I've seen kids in high school teen romance movies! Omg, that's super cute!" Yeonjun squealed.

"If I lived the kind of life they did, I would want to be around some people other than my members and staff too. Anyway, so tomorrow is the day, right?"

You hummed in response.

"Great, so we have enough time to find an outfit for you then," Yuna said.

"I hope you don't think you're going to be the one to pick out an outfit for her," Yeonjun said, causing your friend to scoff. "And why not?"

"With the way you dress, there's no way I'm going to let you pick out something for y/n."

"Really? What makes you think y/n would be better off with someone who dresses like you as her stylist?" Yuna asked.

"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not going to deny that you dress in many different styles, but you dress in your dark street style the most, Yeonjun. Dark colours, oversized clothes and fucking stompers. y/n is going on a date for the first time. She's trying to end up in one of those fashion in japan tiktoks."

"You're one to talk," Yeonjun scoffed. "You dress the complete opposite of the way to act. You act so cold, mean and boring, but then dress like a unicorn decided to empty its stomach on you. Make that make sense."

You couldn't help but chuckle as they continued to quarrel.

"Guys… you know I'm capable of picking an outfit for myself, right?" You asked, and both of them scoffed.

"Yeah, there's no way we're letting you do that. You have the worst fashion sense," Yuna said, and Yeonjun hummed in agreement.

"I agree. We can't have you go out looking like the basic bitch you like every day."

"Hey!"

previous / next / masterlist

taglist !! (inbox me or send me a message to be added) :

@bluemooncnblue ; @emu007 ; @malewife-supremacy ; @4evahevah ; @xx-sikki-nixx-xx ; @ayoo-bangtan ; @morklee02 ; @taeeflwrr ; @svrcegi ; @brit97 ; @thereaderwholovesyou ; @potaetopic , @yoonabeo ; @doublebunv ; @daphnxy ; @jinsquishes ; @tinyoonsblog ; @i-dont-know-me-either ; @teti-menchon0604 ; @chanscase143 ; @bangtans-momma ; @bxcndd ; @m1sss1mp ; @maggie-jane16 ; @amararosesblog ; @drissteele​ ; @jnghs ; @ze-yan ; @danielle143 ; @rinkud​ ; @openup-yourmind​

[matchagator]

Matchagator Masterlist

Readers

{Summary:} You're a new resident in your very first apartment excited to enjoy the simple life of adulthood. Unfortunately for you, you continue to run into unruly neighbors no matter how much you try to keep to yourself. Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

After a year of countless car repairs, a nasty breakup, and a change in careers, you hope a night out with your best friends will be the perfect remedy to start the new year. You weren’t expecting to end up in bed with your best friend that you’ve secretly had a crush on all this time. Fully Released One Shot!

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader

Read Here

Constant late hours in the office lead to turmoil in your relationship and growing suspicions of infidelity. How does it play out when confrontations lead to a night out in a hidden speakeasy? Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Kim Taehyung x Female Reader

Part 1 Part 2

There is nothing better than relaxing at home on Christmas morning cuddled up to the man you love, especially if that man is the embodiment of Santa himself. Fully Released One Shot!

{Main Pairings:} Kim Namjoon x Female Reader

Read Here

An annual office banquet has some of your coworkers glorified while you sit lacking the recognition you know you deserve. When your best friend convinces you to let loose, you end up falling into bed with a handsome stranger for a night of drunk sex. Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Kim Seokjin x Female Reader

Read Here

Original Characters

A stormy night leads to three strays sneaking into the back of Lily's truck to find shelter from the storm. Little did she realize they would turn into three naked men. Follow Lily and her sister as they adjust to suddenly owning three troublesome hybrids. Complete on AO3

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook/Original Female Character, Choi Soobin/Original Female Character, Kim Taehyung/Original Female Character(s)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 |Chapter 9 | Chapter 10| Chapter 11| Chapter 12

Chapter 13| Chapter 14|

AO3 Link:

Read Sheltered Here

Read Sheltered: Complete Dysfunction Here

Follow our favorite pirate captain on his quest to rid the oceans of perilous beasts and catastrophic storms. Everything seems to be going smoothly until his crew kidnaps an unsuspecting royal with a twin brother ready to risk his life to bring her home. Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Pirate Kim Hongjoong/Original Female Character, Prince Kim Taehyung/Original Female Character

Read Star-Crossed Here

Read Star-Crossed: Entropy Here

Follow the seven founding families of Lamont as they fend off creatures from disturbing their town. Will their traditions uphold when one of their own proves to be just as terrifying as the creatures they hunt? New Chapter Released Every Week.

{Main Pairings:} Wolf Hybrid Min Yoongi/Original Female Character, Wolf Hybrid Kim Namjoon/Original Female Character

Read Luna Aliud Here

Jungkook never expected a typical night out on the town would lead to his sudden death. Find out what happens when the shy boy next door suddenly becomes a bloodthirsty Vampire. Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Vampire Jeon Jungkook/Original Female Character, Kim Seokjin/Original Female Character

Read Ravenous Here

What a perfect scene of sin! Isn't the Vegas Strip the ideal place to indulge in lust and greed? The perfect playground for our group of hustlers eager to make a pretty penny off of the poor unsuspecting souls. The series is a work in progress.

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook/Original Female Character, Park Jimin/Original Female Character, Kim Taehyung/Original Female Character(s)

Episode 1: Sin City

Episode 2: Pink Diamond

Episode 3: Cyber Flight

Episode 4: Wine Country

Episode 5: Art Auction

Episode 6: Magic Men

Episode 7: Unwind

Episode 8: Snow Retreat

College, Fuck Boys, and Pregnancies, Oh my! Find out what happens when an accidental pregnancy causes relationships to shift amongst they chaos of college life. Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Fuck Boy Jeon Jungkook/Original Female Character, Kim Taehyung/Original Female Character, Kim Namjoon/Original Female Characters.

Read Picture Perfect Here

What happens when the affairs of vengeful demons and prideful angels intermix? Fully Released!

{Main Pairings:} Demon Jeon Jungkook/Original Angel Female Character, Angel Kim Taehyung/Original Angel Female Character, Demon Jung Hoseok/Original Demon Female Character

Read Twisted Halos Here

[aajjks]

*cough* 10 kids *cough*

TC!dad!JK

indeed, you did not agree with having this grand celebration for your one-week old son but jungkook just does what he wants anyways. you sport a lilac-purple dress with beautiful gold accessories and a match crown atop your head. your hair is in a single braid down your back but lately, you’ve the desire to cut your hair into a bob-like cut.

when jungkook lays his eyes on you, he’s breathless. you look absolutely beautiful and he isn’t shy about letting you know it but you aren’t too happy with him at the moment. your son is just a week old with a developing immune system AND you’re still sore from the labor and surgery. despite jungkook’s compliments, you don’t look or feel gorgeous at all and just want to stay in bed with your son who seems content in jungkook’s arms.

“wait! wait! before we go, he needs these” you open a drawer, grab a pair of matching mittens, and place them on his small hands. “they’re supposed to prevent him from scratching his face and we don’t want that, right seoul? you don’t want to scratch your handsome face~” you coo which puts a smile on the infant’s face.

oh, you’re so in love~

as the guard announces yours, jungkook’s, and jinseoul’s presence everyone is in awe at the little infant in your husband’s arms. everyone bows to give respect to the three of you but mainly for the new addition to the family; your little prince.

“oh, he is so handsome~” coos a woman who leans forward to get a better look at jinseoul who starts whining until you put his pacifier in his mouth.

“congratulations queen and king jeon. if you accept, we come baring gifts for the future king of this nation” says someone you don’t recognize but judging from jungkook’s relaxed state, he recognizes who the man is. all you do is smile and wave as kings, queens, princes, and princesses congratulate you both on the birth of your son; each baring gifts for the infant:

“oh my~ this is, uh…this is a lot. thank you so much”

“y-yes, thank you. we appreciate your gift”

“teething toys? wow! thank you! i’m sure he’ll need that in a few months”

“a sword?! why? he’s only an infant. i don’t think my son needs that”

gifts and gifts and gifts. you appreciate everything, you really do but this is too much. the gratitude of these people are overwhelming and when things finally calm down for everyone to feast, your son begins to cry for food as well.

you don’t hesitate to take jinseoul away to a secluded room and breastfeed him. you let out a sigh of relief as you caress the tiny infant in your arms and enjoy the little time you have to take a break.

“so how’s the first-time father life like, man? you’ve got a one week old baby and a moody wife, sounds like hell” says a childhood friend by the name of kim taehyung.

“the kid looks just like you though. i know that must piss y/n off”

~🫧

As Taehyung talks to him, it’s only stroking jungkooks big ego. Of course, his son came out looking just like him.. and yes, it pisses you off a little because he’s hurt you mumble about it countless of times.

“Of course-it’s like my existence pisses her off, but.. it’s fun- can you tell me how happy I am?” He smirks, Taehyung and Jungkook- they are like two peas in a pod. There is no formality between them despite their status difference.

“how is your wife doing? Why don’t you have a kid yet?” He asks to taehyung, and he wonders where you are, but you were just probably gone to feed his little prince- who gets way too hungry for his liking.

“I’m so happy that yn and I have a baby now… I thought it would never happen- but it did can you believe it?” He gushes- yes it’s true because he never thought he would let him touch you, but now you have his baby.

God is so graceful.

They are both busy eating, but still his mind is stuck on you, have you eaten? Are you OK? You’re not struggling with jinseoul too much now are you?

He knows that you’re still very young and this is really hard, he’s pretty sure you’re not going to give him any more kids… but he will have his way with you.

Patience is virtue.

“mark my words… my son will be the greatest this dynasty has ever witnessed.” Jungkook says to Taehyung whilst staring at a portrait of him and his parents together.

He has a lot of dreams for his one week old old son, and he knows that it’s true, but he’s already fantasizing about how much a great king he will be.

“Yn and I make beautiful children… I know we do.” He almost blushes.. taehyung smiles. You’ve got his friend wrapped around your fingers.

And even though jungkook likes to play really tough but he knows just how his heart really is- it’s really fragile. You should take care of it.

[star-my]

WIP Tag Game

rules: post 3 snippets from published work, and 3 from your wips

Thanks @theharrowing for the tag! I'll tag @minisugakoobies @colormepurplex2 @hisunshiine and whoever else wants to play! No pressure, and my apologies if you've been tagged already.

I don't have 3 works published yet in this fandom, so one will have to do:) y'all do, however, get never-before-seen snippets of unpub works!

Published- We are Forever Bulletproof: Oracle

CHAMESH 1ST, 2011

BREAKING NEWS: BANGTAN EMPIRE ATTACKED BY TOOPEEHM KINGDOM

CHAMESH 2ND,  2011

BREAKING NEWS: BANGTAN AT WAR WITH TOOPEEHM

“It’s for your safety, honey.”

“I know, but I want to stay here with you. It’s my place!”

“Jeongguk, your place is to stay safe, so we don’t have to worry for your safety and well-being and we can focus on the war.” His mother hugged him tightly. “Your hyungs will take good care of you. Be good, and don’t worry about us, okay? We’ll be fine. We love you.”

“I love you.” He hugged her back tightly. “Don’t worry about me; I’ll be good.”

Jeongguk arrived at Bomnal Palace in the Kim Realms and was greeted by Queen Mishil. She led him to the sitting room where her sons were hanging out with their friends, the Empire’s other princes.

Six pairs of eyes met his large ones as he took in the room and its occupants.

“Hi, Jeongguk, right?” A tall, handsome young man came over to meet him warmly. “I’m Seokjin, but you can call me Jin like the others do.”

Jeongguk nodded. 

“Okay.”

“We haven’t seen you much;  it’s usually Junghyun with the Emperor and Empress,” said a boy, smiling widely at him and waving. “But Junghyun hyung talks about you a lot.”

“He’s told me about all of you too,” said Jeongguk, smiling shyly.

“I’ll let you boys take care of Jeongguk then, while I make arrangements for you all,” said the queen, and left with a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

Arbah 34th, 2013

TOOPEEHM’S WAR WITH BANGTAN EMPIRE DRAGS ON THROUGH SECOND YEAR

Shesh 7th, 2013

BREAKING NEWS: THE MAD MAJE RETURNS ON TOOPEEHM’S SIDE IN EHM-TAN’S WAR

“I’m back!”

“How’d school go?” Jin appeared from the direction of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron. 

“It was fine,” Jungkook shrugged. “Lots of homework, even for the first day.”

“Let us know if you need help,” called Yoongi from the office/study area.

“Thanks, hyung!” he called back, following Jin to the snack he knew the oldest had prepared for him.

Hoseok and Jimin were talking quietly by the island. “With the added help from the Mad Maje’s forces, who knows how much longer this will drag on for. The first Maje War was five years long, and it’s already been two years-”

“DO YOU WANT TO TRY MY NEW CRACKERS RECIPE OR THE BROWNIES, JUNGKOOKIE?” asked Jin, loudly announcing their presence and shutting up the other two.

“Both, obviously,” grinned Jungkook. 

They weren’t subtle, but they loved him and had readily adopted him as their little brother, doing their best to shield him from the news of the war and the unease it brought and raise him to be a good prince, and more importantly, a good person, like his parents wanted.

He had only been able to see them and Junghyun a couple times since he was sent away; all the princes of the Empire had moved to the highest-protected city in the Empire, the Jeon Kingdom’s capital, Bangtandosi, shortened by its natives to ‘Bangtan’ or ‘Tan’.

They lived in a large stone house in the old district, close to Bangtan University where the older princes attended, and a five-minute walk from Jungkook’s high school.

Visits with any of their family members were few and far between, with the war taking up most of the royals’ time and attention, and the need to keep the heirs to the Empire’s location secret.

They seven of them had consequently created a bond closer than just brothers as they adjusted to life as civilians in the middle of wartime. They would do anything for each other, no questions asked.

{You can find the whole fic here on tumblr or on ao3}

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

Unpublished- currently my only WiP is We are Forever Bulletproof: Truths

(shocking, i know, but i'm writing for the BTS fandom and hiatused my other fandom because i was overwhelmed with its WiPs. i'm trying to keep the pressure lowkey for my BTS fics. Feel free to request more, though!:D)

The air had a cool bite to it, signalling the start of the autumnal season. A gust of wind blew a falling yellow leaf into Jungkook’s face as he passed under the tree-lined avenue leading to Bangtan University. 

He brushed it away, turning to inhale the aroma of coffee and freshly baked goods carried by the breeze. Ah, good old 00:00 cafe. Located just outside campus grounds, it was a popular spot for students to crash and study, or go on a date right after class, or to work in before classes started. Jungkook had written more than one paper there as he had access to immediate coffee refills.

Jin or one of his other hyungs would have been more than happy to run an in-home coffee service for him during his previous three years of secondary schooling, but he enjoyed people-watching and the academic vibes he got from studying at a coffee shop.

Jungkook stepped in and inhaled the more concentrated scent of fresh-brewed coffee, likely a fresh shipment imported from the Jung Archipelagos.

The line at the counter was surprisingly short (though maybe that was because this was only the first day of classes and students didn’t need as much caffeine to function) and he quickly ordered his usual caramel frappuccino.

The worker behind the counter nudged the shoulder of his coworker and gave her the order details while he attended to the customers at the register.

Jungkook leaned against the counter by the pick-up area and watched students crossing from the busy streets of downtown Bangtan to the lush grounds of Bangtan University’s campus. A fun little game he liked to play was deciding what year a student was in and what they were majoring in. He was pretty sure he’d just identified a fellow fourth-year PolSci major when his name was called.

“Jungkook?”

He turned to collect his drink and heard bells ringing. Little specks of glitter floated around Her head, a small smile on Her lips and Her light eyes sparkling as She met his awestruck gaze.

I love you.

The lights around Her head disappeared and the bells abruptly stopped ringing as She pushed his cup into his hand and wrapped his fingers around the curved sides, turning to take the newcomer’s order while Her coworker manned the coffee.

“Have a good day!” She tossed over her shoulder, smiling at the newcomer.

Jungkook sipped his drink, frowning as he exited the coffee shop, the bells ringing goodbye in a mocking way, a far cry from their melodic tinkling when he met Her.

That was a good frappuccino; he’d have to go back. For the coffee, too.

{is this all i've written for WaFBV:T? you don't have access to my docs and can't prove anything>:D}

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

Fic I've written but haven't published/typed up- Godmother: Vixen

Ara, Age 15 (10 years ago)

"Jungkook, you know how you're going to be my official bodyguard in a couple years, when you turn 18?"

Jungkook's head was in Ara's lap, her fingers combing through the soft black strands. "...yeah?"

"So then I won't have Lee watching us all the time?"

"Yes? Where are you going with this?" "Patience, Kookie." Ara booped his nose, making him crinkle it at her.

"Well, then I'll be able to sneak out with you more. I won't have to make you sneak out to get my stuff anymore, and I can really begin my- our plans."

"But I don't mind it! I like it!" Jungkook protested. "It keeps you safe and under Lee's watch, where you're supposed to be."

"Yeah, but it's so boring. I don't get to practice my black belts on anything...you can join the underground rings but I can't, yet. Ugh, I wish you were older so I could polish the plan better."

"Slow and steady wins the race, Ara. You've got two years to finish learning all that stuff you want to know, as if Namjoon-hyung and Jin-hyung won't help."

"Yeah, but they'll be busy for appa, and it's too close; he'd be suspicious and they'll be in trouble even if I'm not. It's good for me to know hacking and strategy, anyways. You've been with me for my physical training, but I can't lead a gang just because I have five black belts in martial arts and a gun."

"Okay, you have a point, Bug."

"When do I not?" she smirked saucily at him.

~~~

(present day)

Jimin complied, following her to a small room that reminded him of a cabin. She pointed to the twin bed and shut the door behind her. Jimin didn't feel like a captive since there was a window large enough for him to crawl through, and there didn't appear to be any bars or lasers to stop him from doing so if he wished. But he didn't wish to; he was here for a reason, afterall.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway as someone came jogging up to Vixen. The tread was heavy, likely male, and the visitor greeted her in a male's voice.

"Hey Vix, I found out where he keeps the goods- why are you frown- ouch! VIX-mmph!"

That male voice sounded awfully familiar. Jimin frowned.

"Shh! I'm gagging you because he's next. Door!" hissed Vixen harshly. "If you'd checked outside before you snuck in, you'ld've seen his car!"

Jimin strained his ears as the whispers softened and moved down the hallway. However, he'd managed to drop a bug on Vixen's back as he followed her, so he pulled out his receiver and shamelessly eavesdropped.

"I came over the rooves tonight so I didn't see. I'm sorry, VIx, that was careless; I should've known better. I'll check 360 degrees next time, yakseokhae."

That was definitely JK.

"Good. Yeesh, oppa, you almost gave everything away! I had Han ready to rush you with his knife to slow you down!"

Oppa?! Why was Vixen so close to JK?

"Sorry, Vixen. But I found out where he keeps the goods, and I'm getting mine tomorrow, so I need to make sure the others won't be visible when it's done."

...the blacklight tattoos each member got when they were inducted into Bangtan? He'd thought JK was a reliable asset to Bangtan, so he'd invited him to get it. JK was obviously Vixen's spy in Bangtan, but why?...most of JK's time was spent on his bodyguarding duties with Ara.

Unless...Vixen was going to take out Ara to hit Bangtan and Grey? But both of them were allied with her, that didn't make sense. And he knew JK would never hurt or let anyone or anything hurt Ara.

Clearly more investigation was required.

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

{I forgot how much I liked this fic! It definitely needs some polishing, but maybe I can get it done for some event or a friend's birthday!}

Masterlist is here

[risforrogue]

Blue-blooded royal Kim Seokjin who just turned 20 was now in the market for a spouse was the most sought out bachelor in the kingdom. The future king was handsome and had a great personality that he was well loved and liked by all.

However, none were successful in capturing his heart. Unknown to all except for his parents and his other siblings, Seokjin was cursed by an evil warlock to die on his 30th birthday. The King and the Queen had tried to find numerous ways to lift the curse but it all failed.

The evil warlock gotten into a fierce battle before with the kingdom. He had devised ways to assassinate the king and enslave the people but the King and his soldiers have put up a great fight and won. In revenge, the warlock cursed the Queen's unborn son and future heir to the throne to die on his 30th birthday.

Because of this, Seokjin learned to keep people at bay. He had lots of friends but when he begins to feel something more, he would slowly distance himself and back away from the possibility of love. He wanted to save himself the pain of knowing love and losing it.

Instead, he spent the next 8 years, travelling the world, learning new languages, acquiring new skills and simply trying to savor life before his own would be taken away from him.

He was all but content until on his 29th birthday celebration, Prince Hoseok introduced him to someone. A man with big doe eyes and a bunny smile. His name was Jeon Jungkook and Seokjin felt it, Cupid's arrow and all that, he felt the pull of fate. He was all wrong for him but he could not help it. He should not enjoy his company too much nor fall for his giggles and hearty laughs but Seokjin found himself doing all those and more on that night.

Seokjin asked him to dance and dance the night away was what they did. His siblings Namjoon and Taehyung kept throwing him concerned looks but it did nothing to faze the admiration he had for Jungkook.

They cornered him when Jungkook left to get some drinks for both of them.

"Hyung, this is not good," Namjoon whispered. Taehyung nodded his head while Seokjin rolled his eyes.

"We get it, he's cute but this is so unlike you. You had always been cautious but this, this is madness! Mother saw you both and was alarmed enough to make sure we talk some sense to you!"

Seokjin brushed off their words. He was a grown man and if he wanted to start something with Jungkook, it's none of anybody's business.

"Look, I just want to be friends with him, okay?" he reasoned out.

Taehyung scoffed at his words, "You both nearly kissed while dancing!"

"That, that's not true!"

Of course, it was. When Seokjin held Jungkook in his arms while they were dancing to a ballad, he got mesmerized by the stars in Jungkook's eyes. His lips beckoned to him and as each of their steps slowed down, Seokjin could not help but pull him closer and closer until Yoongi twirled Hoseok and bumped into them, destroying the moment.

Ok, gonna stop here because I need to organize my thoughts. I just wanted a prompt for this post but somehow it became like this and so I'll continue this soon.

[jimlingss]

A Kiss of Poison

➜ Words: 29.2k

➜ Genres: Angst, A Pinch of Fluff, But Still Mostly Angst

➜ Summary: You are the princess of the kingdom, ready to marry the prince/your childhood friend, Jeon Jungkook. But when you visit the forest one last time, an unsightly witch curses you. Now you wait for your prince’s rescue—but someone else might just beat him to the punch instead.

Or alternatively....

In fairytales, the prince saves the princess from the evil witch. No one ever expects the princess and the witch to be the same person.

➜ Warnings: gruesome and horrifying details, curses, lots of sad times, details of deformations, blood.

➜ Notes: this blog has gotten too soft lately. time to bring back the angst...Enjoy!

The mirror shimmers and a smile pulls onto your cheeks as you gaze at your own reflection.   “Why are you so happy, princess?”   “How could I not be?” You turn around from the plush seat at your vanity. With no one else present, you allow your hand to sneak to the back of his neck, tugging him closer. You’re unable to resist and you peck his soft lips with yours, all too quickly and sweetly, making an infectious smile spread across his visage. “Are you even allowed to be in here, Jungkook?”   “I might have slipped a coin into the maid’s pocket.” His grin turns all too cheeky, eyes crinkled in mirth, dark hair swept over to reveal his brow. Yet as cute he is, he still holds onto a princely aura that only acts to compliment his handsome appearance. “I just wanted a moment with you. You’re too busy these days. I missed you.”   You smile at him, all too endeared. “You’ve been busy too.”   “I know.” He sighs. “I can’t wait for this all to be over so I can finally have you for myself.”   You sympathize, petting his head in gentle touches as you whisper, “Aren’t you going to get in trouble for this?”   “It doesn’t matter anyways.” Jungkook is mischievous, making you laugh at how he hasn't changed at all. He’s still the boy you grew up with. “We’re getting married in a week.”   “I still don’t think my parents would be too happy if they knew you were in my chambers. What happens if rumours spread?”   Suddenly, Jungkook leans down and wraps his arms around your waist and the back of your knees. A squeal spills from your lips when he picks you up effortlessly, carrying you in his arms, grinning as you giggle. “It’s mid-day. What could possibly happen, princess? And don’t they want an heir anyways?”   “Jungkook!” you chide him and he laughs boyishly, staring into your eyes, his irises twinkling against the sunlight. He moves near the glass windows, bathing you both in the warmth of the sun rays and you snuggle into his arms, melting in his touch. “I want a chance to rule properly before we have any children. I can’t split my focus like that.”   “You’d make a fine queen even if we had kids running around the place,” he reassures with a soft smile. “If anything it would keep the maids busy and we’d get more time to ourselves.”   It’s peaceful and quiet. The serenity surrounds you both, allowing you a taste of what’s to come. Sometimes it baffles you how fortunate you are — to be so deeply in love with the one you are betrothed to, to have a future that is limitless, for your abilities to stretch so far that your imagination can’t conjure what possibilities can come. You have all you could ever wish for.   But unfortunately, the intimate moment with Jungkook is interrupted by a knock on the door.   “Your Highness? It’s time for you to bathe!”   The prince sighs, exchanging a look with you briefly before setting you back down on your feet. “See what I mean?”   You laugh, a hand placed on his firm chest as you plant a chaste kiss on his plush lips. “We’ll have our time together soon enough. Don’t worry.”   “I’ll look forward to that then.” He reluctantly pulls away, bowing and then taking the back of your hand to press a kiss on it. With one lingering gaze, he moves to open the door.   The maid downcasts her head in respect, stepping aside. Jungkook steals one last glance at you, flashing a smile before he drags his legs off.   You’re so incredibly happy — there isn’t a reason where you shouldn’t be. You’re a blushing bride about to marry your best friend, the love of your life. He’s going to become your partner and companion, and you’ll rule the kingdom together, allowing your tired parents to rest. The kingdom is at peace and prosperous. Your home is warm. Your heart has never been fuller.   This is your happily ever after.

“Your Highness!” There’s a shrill cry that befalls from her lips, eyes big as they watch you scatter around the room, hastily stuffing your belongings into a satchel.   “I will be fine,” you reassure her. “Everyone thinks I’m studying right now. And if they come, just tell them that I’m taking another bath or something and that I’ll be right back.”   “And what time will you come back?” The maid watches as you pluck your cloak from the hanger, draping your body with the thick black fabric and hiding the features of your face from the light.   “Definitely before sundown.” You grin, grabbing her arms, appeasing the worried younger girl. “I’m going to get married in seven days. Then I’ll have my coronation to become queen and I won’t be able to leave the castle freely after that. I just want to go out one last time. It’s not too much to ask, right?”   “Shouldn’t the prince come with you at least?” Her eyes are full of plea, asking you not to go, but you push the stone wall next to the bookcase, revealing the hidden exit. You’re too stubborn for your own good, mind already made up.   “Jungkook is busy and I don’t want to bother him.” You smile at her, casting a final glimpse. “I’ll be fine, trust me.”   The inner passageway leads you to the stables. There, you slip by the boy working, approaching a familiar horse. He resists against your hold until you reveal your face to the light. Immediately he calms down when he recognizes you, nuzzles into your hand that brushes against its muzzle. Before anyone realizes, you’ve burst through the back gates.   Hooves marking in the dirt, galloping away from luxuries handed on silver platters, you ride into the forest hollering at the top of your lungs. It’s not very sophisticated or demure behaviour, but no one here is watching. Not your parents, royal subjects, no dukes or duchesses. You are truly away from prying eyes, sharp judgments, snide comments.   The wind whips through your hair. The gentle breeze caresses against your cheeks, cooling the heat that have risen within them. The entire world is ahead of you. It’s the ultimate freedom.   The canopy of trees above your head is rustling, singing to you. The sunlight filters through the green leaves, warm luminescence painting the land vibrant. The birds swoop over the horizon, chickadees chirping their songs, wildlife peeking out from their homes. You follow the familiar dirt path, eyes sweeping against the flourishing, grassy landscapes. It’s nature in its greatest form. And it welcomes you.   More than the plain stones walls of the castle, the forest feels alive.   You pull the reins of the horse once you’ve made it to your destination. The lake shimmers with the beams of sunlight filtering through the tree leaves. It sparkles like the night sky or jewels spilt on marble flooring, and you hop down, lush grass beneath your feet softening your landing. Your horse rests and you inhale the fresh air, filling your lungs, still exhilarated from the ride here.   Without much thought, your feet approaches the glistening waters and as you lean over, you see your own clear reflection smiling down at you. Your gown drapes along the ground, surely to get in trouble with the other maids when they find grass stains in the expensive material, but you pay little mind to it.   As much as you love your life, sometimes you itch to get away and remember the world outside of the walls.   Baby breaths grow in a heap next to the lake and you reach down, plucking a stem from the ground, twirling the lovely flower between your fingertips. The birds sing together, chirping and tweeting as they—   “Exc...u..se...me...I-I...I need….he..l.p…” A croaking voice interrupts your thoughts. It sends chills to your spine, a hoarse timbre that sounds all too inhumane and you spin around.   An old woman is crouched over. Her spine is bent in half and she staggers, using a stick to walk. She emerges out of nowhere, seemingly past the thickened trees, wearing a black cloak much like yours, but with her hood shields away her face. More importantly, your attention is taken by an arrow pierced straight through her abdomen. Red stains her brown rags, seeping through her clothing, spreading like watercolour on a canvas.   You gasp. She wheezes.   Instantly, you come to stand, about to go over and tend to her wound. But then...a strong gust of wind sweeps through the land, whistling through the trees. It blows back her hood, letting the scrap of fabric flutter away.   Her horrid face is revealed.   Her flesh is thin, skeleton bones exposed, cheekbones and jaw shaven. Her skull is practically visible, every part of it hollow, left eye melted shut, right eye sunken in. The woman’s mouth is lopsided, bleeding gums revealed inside, jagged teeth barely hanging on to their root. Her features appear like they’re melting off of her. Hair stark white, falling out in clumps, her skin is burnt bright red as if she was caught in a fire and the flames imprinted their colour on her flesh.   You scream. Eyes wide, you scramble back on instinct, not realizing what’s behind you.   And you plunge into the lake.   The old woman shrieks in sheer horror. She throws her stick aside and stumbles towards the river, throwing herself near the edge with an arm outstretched. “Gra..b...my...han..d!”   “N-No!” you shout at her in the midst of panic and shock, choking on a mouthful of the water, air sucked out of your lungs. The heavy fabric of your gown drags you down and your arms flail uselessly, gasping above the surface. Still, your eyes remain above the water, pinned onto the monster, scared and frightened. “Do..n’t...t-touch me!”   The darkness begins to close around you. The water suffocates you. But with the fortune of the heavens on your side, your hands grab onto the edge, taking fistfuls of the soil. You push and pull yourself up, clawing your way out of the lake desperately until your fingernails are blackened with dirt.   You choke. Cough. Wheeze. Hyperventilate.   And the monster is collapsed a few feet away, heaving like you are. It petrifies you to look at her and when you’ve regained your sanity, you scramble back on alert, hair and clothes still dripping, bones shivering from the temperature difference. But your mind races, ready to jump onto your horse. Yet, your body remains frozen in spot, legs dead weight.   “Y-You….” She swallows hard, a pained voice croaking out, “...would rather...die...than let me help you?”   “What do you want from me?!” you scream, terrified at the stranger whose face has been mauled into bits now flaking off.   “Am I that monstrous to you?” The woman asks for an answer in a murmur and you realize she’s crying. From her sunken right eye, a tear drops down to her hollow cheek, through the twisting cracks of her peeling skin. “It’s people like you...people like you that my….my enti-..re..life I had to su-...ffer.”   The beast’s syllables are heavy while the red on its clothes begin to spread, staining the grass beneath it, dying in front of you.   “Go away!” you yell at the top of your lungs as if you could scare it away. You don’t know what it wants from you nor do you understand what it’s saying with that growling voice. “Go away! Leave me alone, monster!”   Her lopsided mouth tries to upturn, sad smile forming on her broken visage. “C-child, no one has shown me kindness….not you, not anyone. But...but I want someone to understand my pain...I want someone to empathize…”   Your eyes are shut tight, hands clasped over your ears, not listening, not looking.   “Take away this burden from me,” the woman murmurs on her dying breath, slumped to the ground on her knees, her eye piercing through yours. She sobs with the last of her diminishing energy and the wildlife comes forth from their hiding spots, coming to watch, coming to grieve for her. “You who has had all...bear this cruelty...”   It is chaos. The wind howls and shrieks. You scream, frightened.   “...understand the suffering you have caused me today….n-not even in my last moments...will someone show me pity or compassion…”   The leaves rustle to the hurricane, whispering their woes and eulogies of sympathy. Flowers rip from the ground, caught in the tornado, bouquets that act as tribute to honour her memory. The universe bears witness, pandemonium acting as a prayer, freeing her soul from the confines of her mangled skin.   “......take this curse…” Dark clouds roll over the horizon, shielding away sunlight. The woods become engulfed by a thickened blackness, bleeding through tree trunks and branches, filling the spaces between blades of grass. The shadows reach out, wrapping its fingers around throats to anchor itself down, more suffocating than to drown at the bottom of the lake. “...only then will you learn that beauty is meaningless.”   The forest is alive and it mourns.   The witch collapses, falling over to her side. All at once, your body glows and burns.   Your flesh feels like it’s aflame, sores beginning to split open all over your face, blisters oozing of golden pus. There’s a blood-curdling shriek that echoes throughout the woods, falling on deaf ears, and you realize it’s coming from you. The ear-splitting and discordant scream is tearing from your throat, filled with terror and hatred, agonizing as your bones snap one by one.   Something smells like it’s burning beneath your nose, ashes or embers caught in your lungs — it’s your flesh rotting on your body. Your fingernails claw up your throat, raking against your torso as you heave, face pressed into the dirt. Blood drips from the violent scratches, skin peeling off of you like a snake shedding. Your veins pump, heart erratic with this transformation….   This metamorphosis.   The air vibrates. The earth shakes beneath you. Your frame trembles, crying out. And the baby breaths wither in response.   //   A royal decree is declared across the land. While the family had tried to keep it discreet for fear of rousing concern from the citizens and allowing neighbouring countries to be aware of this vulnerability, far too much time has passed. A sun fall, sunrise, and yet another sun fall has caused news to break out. The princess has gone missing.   The horse had returned but without the girl in sight. Knights, troops, and the prince himself has ridden off as far as the border, searching through homes and meadows, fields and the forest — their efforts proven futile. You are nowhere to be found. You are gone. Disappeared out of thin air.   But no, you haven’t vanished.   You are here, walking, dragging your feet. After so much time, you lugged what remained of your body upwards, yanking yourself out of the forest and into the light, cloak acting as bandages to hide the wounds that have spread across your flesh. When hope is lost, when your pain flares, home is what makes you move forward. Home is where your mom and your dad is. Home is where Jungkook is. Home is where you will figure out how to return to yourself again.   “H...help me…” You tug on a guard’s arm outside the wall, head kept downcast, a croaking voice emanating from your mouth that you cannot discern as your own.   “Who are you?” He is on alert, pushing you back. From the sheer force, you fall down, shocked. No one ever dares to lay a hand on you and to be shoved in such a way, you are about to berate the guard for his audacity.   But what you fail to notice is that your hood has fallen. And the two guards at the front gate are equally disgusted and appalled. “Ugh!”   “How dare you?” you cry, fixing your hood and struggling to get to your feet. “I am the princess!”   Barks of laughter come from both men. “Then I am the king! Scram, monster.”   “No! I’m Y/N, the princess!” You lunge forward, shouting in outright desperation, waiting for your prince to come to your rescue, “Jungkook! Jeon Jungkook! It’s me!”   And you’re shoved back a second time. A sharp spear is pointed at your eyes, the soldier’s face twisting in fury. “How dare you call his majesty without any proper titles?! Who do you think you are?!”   “How dare you point a weapon at me.” Your voice is loud, commanding and your pupils narrow into his. “You will pay dearly for your mistakes.”   He snarls, unafraid of your threats and turns away to the other guards. “Lock this monster up! It dares to be disrespectful to the royal family and steal the identity of the missing princess.”   Two younger men gather, petrified of your outer appearance, but obeying their commands to drag you. Their hands wrap beneath your arms, lugging your legs against the ground. “How dare you?! Jungkook—! Let go of me this instant! Jungkook! Mom! I said let go! Dad! It’s me!”   …   The stone prison is cold, three walls looming over you, spiderwebs gathered in corners and rats scurrying away. You flinch when something scrapes your feet, so you gather your knees, rocking back and forth, surrounded in the darkness.   You won’t be so easily deterred. They’ll see you for who you really are. They’ll recognize your eyes. They’ll know what happened to you and they’ll fix it. Those guards will pay once the curse is removed. You’ll return back to normal, wed to Jungkook, and this event in the future will be seen as a mere mishap. Everything will be okay again. You believe it. You believe it. You believe it.   You know it.   Your thoughts are interrupted by scattering steps. There are faint echoes of voices too familiar from birth until now. You scramble forward, bony knees scraping along the stone flooring, grasping onto the steel bars that cage you inside, ignoring the cysts all along your hands. Your ankle is shackled to the wall, metal links clanging with every movement of yours, but it allows you to stretch yourself out to get closer to the voices.   “She says she is the princess.”   The King and Queen exchange a hopeful look with each other. Jungkook’s eyes widen. The Queen, your mother, smiles. “Take me to her.”   “I must warn you, Your Majesty,….to not get your hopes up.”   “Take me to her,” she repeats firmly and swiftly.   Rapid footsteps ricochet off the cold walls. They run, sprint into the darkness with open arms.   “Be careful,” the guard warns. “It is violent.”   Their shadows are casted on the floor as they approach and you could cry from sheer relief just from seeing their silhouettes. “Mom? Dad?”   “Y/N?” Your mother furrows her brows, unable to recognize the voice she hears.   “Step aside,” your dad commands the guard and after he obeys, the older man brings the light of the torch down towards the cell. The flames of the fire dance, flickering back and forth, warming you as it comes closer. It casts its luminescence down and a sliver of your face is revealed in the darkness.   Immediately, your dad shouts and staggers backwards. Your mother gasps in horror.   “It’s….me…”   Your crying does nothing for them. All they see is the way your eyes are bulging out of your sockets. Your nose is crooked. Your skin looks like it’s melting off of your face. Your scalp is reddened with disease, hair falling out from your scalp, fragile teeth blackened. There are open sores all over your raw flesh, as if maggots are chewing away at the dead parts.   You are monstrous. You are heinous. You no longer look human.   Your mother sobs and your father turns away from you. You gaze at his backside before looking at Jungkook beside them. He is even more horrified. “It’s me….I was cursed...I...I-”   “How does it have her clothes?” your mother begs your father for an answer, unable to rip her stare away.   He grabs onto her arm, harshly whispering, “Don’t look at it.”   “No….mom...dad…!”   Jungkook takes one step forward. “Why did you kill her?”   “What do you mean?” you keen, voice broken and croaking, unrecognizable no matter what you try to do. “I’m right here.”   Jungkook’s fist slams against the wall. You flinch. Your mother shouts in startlement. His arm drops to his side. His hand bleeds, bruises already beginning to form. “How could you?!” He gasps, intense eyes full of hatred. His jaw clenches, muscle in his cheek jumping as if he is ready to tear off your head. You’re scared. Before, he has only looked at you with loving eyes.   “Did you think you could kill her, take her clothes, and pretend to be her?! Did you think you could waltz into this castle so easily and be the princess, you evil monster?!”   Your mother cries and runs off with a hand over her mouth. You are left to defend yourself against these accusations. But they’ve all already made up their minds. “N-..no..no! I was cursed...I was cursed, Jungkook…”   You beg him to look at you — to really look at you.   He doesn’t.   “You’re scum,” Jungkook spits out in rage.   You weep, grasping onto the bars, holding them tightly even when the chain around your ankle threatens to pull you back into the darkness. You scour your mind for ways to get them to believe you and a thought ignites in your mind. The solution is presented on a silver platter, so easy, so simple—   “Kiss me, Jungkook,” you beg, “T-true love’s kiss breaks any curse.”   But the only thing he gives you is scorn. “To kiss you would be a kiss of poison.”   Your best friend, your fiancé, abandons you. He leaves, cape slicing through the air, never to turn around again. The guard doesn’t cast a glance down at you either. “What should we do, Your Highness?”   The King’s shadow hovers over you. You whimper, calling out to him, your father who held you as an infant, who you grew up to look up to, who adored every little thing you did. His eyes no longer hold endearment or mirth — they are blank.   “Execute the witch by morning.”   “Dad! No, wait! Please!” You scream after him until your croaking voice becomes hoarse, until the syllables that spill off your cracked lips are soundless. “I’m your daughter! Please! It’s me! I was cursed! It’s me!”   “Shut up!” The guard yells and turns around, kicking your hands off from gripping the bars. The bottom of his shoe slams on your fingers and a sore bursts. Pus splatters and you cry out in agony, gripping your hand and retreating into the darkness. At the back of the prison cell, you drown in tears.   //   The world that you have known is becoming undone. The happiness you held was so entirely fragile that your tight grip had shattered it completely. No one hears your crying, or notices the way tears have trailed down what is left of your cheeks. Even if they heard or saw, they see nothing but the monstrosity that has come to cover you from head to toe.   Morning comes and your throat cracks from the inside, lips begging for a sip of water that they never give to you. Your wrists are stacked together by metal cuffs. The sunlight burns into the back of your eyeballs. It hurts. You are dizzy. Your vision is blurry. And before you can realize your surroundings, you find yourself center stage.   It’s not a coronation to become queen. It is a march to your death.   There are people in front of you murmuring. You’re a freak to them, a beast they warn their children about. You recognize a few, royal subjects and workers, your maid who is aghast as she is devastated that her princess is gone. They will all cheer when you die.   “Mom...mom…” you call out to her while they shove you past, but instead of sobbing, her gaze is cold. She has no grief in her anymore, only loathing. Your father sits beside her on his throne and he signals with his hand. They both look down at you like you’re a murderer, someone who brutally killed their own daughter.   “Jungkook.”   The prince ignores you. He is your last hope, the one you have not given up on. You are grasping onto everything that you have left, even as it is slipping from your fingertips. But you are too desperate to give up. You love him. He loves you. And he will see past this.   You are pushed onto your knees, head shoved down on a blood-stained wooden table by a guard. The executioner approaches with an axe. It is all too demeaning, to be kneeling in this position in front of the entire world, in front of your family, in front of the citizens you are supposed to rule over.   It soils your status. You are ashamed.   “For the murder of the dearest princess, for stealing her clothes and memories with dark magic—”   But your pride, the words of the man reading out your crimes, don’t matter to you. You twist yourself to look at him and you beg for him to see beneath your horrid skin. “Jungkook.”   “—acting as an impostor and attempting to bewitch the royal family into believing your evil schemes to take over this kingdom—”   “Jungkook.”   “....your crimes are worthy of death itself.”   “Jungkook.” You’ve been taught to hold your head up high, to stand tall, to smile. But here, you are choking on your own tears, gagging over air too thick to swallow. No one offers you pity or compassion. “You s-...said...you would l-love me...y-you promised to marry me...remember?”   He looks at you. The executioner waits for a signal. Jungkook steps forward. The king makes no movements.   A smile tugs on your maimed face, past the cracked, raw flesh. “Y-you’re my best friend...you said it doesn’t matter if we have a daughter or a son...as long as they’re like me…”   “Tell me…” Jungkook speaks to you. He swallows hard. He looks you in the eyes. “...what was her last words?”   “What do you mean?!” you scream and your head is forcibly shoved down again. You struggle against their hold and against your chains, the rush of tears clouding your vision. The blisters on your face begin to pop and bleed, filing between the deep twisting cracks of your face. “It’s me! I’m Y/N. I’m the princess. I’m supposed to marry you! Look at me, Jungkook! LOOK AT ME!”   “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”   He steps back, shaking his head, looking away.   “I love you.”   Your father grits his teeth together, unable to keep watching. His eyes are stern, voice demanding. “Kill the monster!”   “I love you,” you repeat. “I love you.”   You are no longer the princess of the kingdom. You have lost everything — your family, the love of your life, your status, your dignity, your own name. You have been betrayed. Home has been ripped away from you. You have become the enemy.   Your breath staggers. Inhale. Exhale. The sound of the blade whistles in the wind.   It is chaos. The wind howls and shrieks. You shut your eyes tight. It is despicable. It is cruel. You are going to die by the hands of the people you love most, all because they do not believe who you are beneath this skin-deep layer. All because of how you appear, no one will look.   No one will listen.   Don’t look at it — You’re scum — Leave me alone, monster!   You scream, deep within your chest to the pits of your stomach. It is made of hatred. Sorrow has morphed into animosity. The metal chains break from your fury and there are shouts from the crowd, people gasping and running back. The executioner is forcibly thrown away from you by an unseeable force. Your father stands, shouting for the guards. Your mom cries out. Jungkook staggers back.   Sobs tear through your throat, scratching its way out. Your body is aflame. There is a burst of light and each person shields their eyes away too pained to look at it. And when it is gone, they turn to find nothing left but ash.   You have truly vanished into thin air.

The cold nips with the force of a starved animal sinking its teeth into their dead prey. The blackened sky weeps, grieving for your death, having to bear witness to the travesty of your name being laid to rest. The rain is thickened, heavy like curtains of the sky, unable to be seen through.   And you slip.   Your eyes squint. Your feet are slick in the mud. When you collide against the ground, you pick yourself back up, grabbing the dirt, pulling your body upwards. As you shake and tremble in the frigid temperature, your skin splits into deeper grooves, lips cracked, hands chipping away. You follow the only light you’ve seen for miles — the house on the hilltop.   The uphill trek is difficult on your aching legs. But you make it after an hour and you knock on the grandiose front door.   “O-oh. Hello?” After several seconds, a servant is peeking her eye through the gap, parting the door ever so slightly and scanning your shivering frame. “How may I help you?”   “It’s s-so….cold. I’ve been walking for d-days.” What’s left of your teeth is chattering. You can’t control the shivers that have taken over your bent spine, causing the rest of your form to quiver. You’re drenched from head to toe, making a mess on the doorstep, but you keep your head down, pleading with the woman, “can I please stay here? Just for one night.”   “Umm...I can’t let you in without the master’s permission.” She dips her head in apology. “Let me go ask him.”   You nod and the door shuts again. From the glass windows, you can see the fireplace crackling inside, the candlelight flickering. Music seeps out through the bottom crack of the door, laughter from the other side drowning out the sound of the rain pummelling on the planet. The warmth that you so desperately seek is merely past this wall. It’s so close, but out of reach.   You wait. Wait. And wait.   As the outside becomes colder, your breaths become shallow, a cloud seen with every exhale. Something catches in the corner of your eyes and when you turn, you notice underneath the window pane is a rose bush. The red petals spill from the center, flourishing and drinking up the water that falls from the sky, round droplets hugging on the leaves. You stare at it….until the door opens again.   “What is it?”   A man looms over you, standing tall, looking down at your hunched form.   “My name is...I’m—….I’ve been walking for days. It’s so cold outside….can I please stay for one night? I promise I’ll be gone by morning.”   “My home is not an inn where you can come and go as you please,” he hisses in a curt manner, ready to slam the door.   “Wait!” You throw your hand on the edge of the door frame, stopping him. From the small inch that you’ve gotten closer inside, you can begin to feel the warmth melt the numbness from your fingers away.   But you make the mistake of lifting your head.   The baron draws a sharp breath, wavering back, eyes wide. He is repelled by the sight of you. The top layer of your skin is ripping off like a snake halfway through its shedding process. Red sores and blisters throbbing with pus grow all over your raw flesh, scalp stained green, eyeballs bulging from their sockets. It is sickening to even take one glance at you.   “You’re disgusting!” The baron shoos you away like you’re a diseased stray dog. “Get away, get away!”   “Wait, please!” You grab the door and he has no regard, slamming it shut, right on top of your fingers. You cry out, trying to rip your arm back, but it’s stuck. The horrified man opens it again thirty seconds too late when your fingers are now bruised purple and blue, crooked and broken.   “Shoo!” He chases you out with a golden candelabra, waving it around as if he is threatening to hit you with it. “Be gone, creature!”   You’re pushed backwards into the rain, back into the mud. It splatters, staining your cloak brown, your scraped knees stinging in the grime. Your hood falls and the downpour washes down your face acting as the tears you can no longer shed.   “Master!” A plump servant and a thinner one come racing out to bring the baron back inside into warmth. But he stays at the doorstep, shouting at you to scram from his home.   “You vile, disgusting creature! Be gone!”   Again — the stare of hatred. The expression of loathing. Except, this time you don’t beg to be understood, you don’t try to explain yourself, you do not wallow in sadness. You match it.   The wind whistles around you. You stagger back to your feet. The storm becomes heavier, dragging you down, keeping you rooted.   “You should not be deceived by appearances. Beauty is only skin deep. And you…” Your crooked finger swollen and blue points at his face. The hand you lift quivers as you warn him. “...you are uglier than I am.”   “Spoiled.” The syllables shake, vibrating the air surrounding you. It is spoken with the same vigor as swearing an oath. The rain has become silenced in your wrath. “Selfish.” It booms across the land. The croaking voice emanating from your throat hisses. “Unkind.”   But the man doesn’t listen. “Be gone!”   An angered cry tears through your throat. “You are more vile than I am. You are the disgusting creature who will show no mercy to the wretched and poor. All I asked was for warmth and you have turned me away. People like you…..people like you is why I have been abandoned.”   In the midst of the roaring rain, a tear drops from your eyes but is lost in the flood. Your arm extends to him again, but this time the man is taken back. His servants shriek in fear and they all stumble. There is a burst of light that comes from you, one you are only beginning to learn how to control.   You curse him in a single murmur, “let what is unseen by the eyes show.”   There’s a blood-curdling shriek, louder than the thunder rumbling in the horizon. The man crashes to his knees. He grips his burning face, succumbing to his inner self. His servants scream in chaos, shielding away their eyes as he transforms into a hideous beast.   A rose falls from the bush, plunging and rolling right in front of him. The thorns are sharp all around the stem, warning not to be touched. But the flower is overflowing and abundant in red petals, the colour of blood spilled; it acts as a reminder of the beauty that was taken from him.   With your injured hand clutched to your chest, you walk away. The man’s screams still ring into the air, haunting your shadow. You are reminded that you will never find a home if there is someone else there to see you.

When there’s no place left to go, when there is no one to turn to, you still manage to scrape by. The will to live has always been strong within you and maybe it’s from some false sense of hope. Maybe it is from a belief that someday you will find a cure for yourself, that someday there will be a knock at the door and Jungkook will appear. Someday, you will return back home again and they will accept you with open arms.

  It is this very someday, this dream, this vision that drives you forward. You cannot, will not, give up when you see this image when you shut your eyes. And the more you think about it...the more real it becomes.   “I’m sorry.” — Jungkook would whisper while holding onto you, enveloping your frame despite your hideous appearance. You would feel the warmth of his body, the gentle touch of his hand stroking your back to comfort you. You would dig your nose into his shoulder, take in the scent of the sea. Then like always, he would say — “I love you.”   And when you return home, the servants and citizens would clap, your mother would hug you, your father would apologize a thousand times. They wouldn’t care what you looked like. They wouldn’t care about what you’ve become. They would still love you.   It feels so real. Maybe because you’ve dreamt of it so much.   But until that day comes, you will survive.   You find yourself a place, a temporary home. It’s a cottage that’s been abandoned, one that you bought with whatever jewelry and gold bound on your wrists, hidden deep within your pockets. It’s on the outskirts of a far-away village, isolated from others, where you can hide yourself and not cause anyone to become scared. As a cautionary measure, you only emerge at night if need be, making sure to cover your face with your cloak. Often times people’s reaction to your exterior frightens you more than their own terror.   But what you fail to notice is how quickly rumours begin to spread in the village.   “Who is she?” — “I heard that woman is a murderer.” — “Be careful of the outcast.” — “Don’t look her in the eyes or you will turn into stone, alright?”   Even if you have caught wind of the things murmured, you pay no mind. It is harmless and you’ve quickly gotten used to humiliation and slander. They don’t know who you are, they don’t know what your story is. The whispers are meaningless.   But one thing that you do become known for is your garden.   If you’re no longer beautiful, then you can still surround yourself in beauty.   You preoccupy yourself behind the cottage, working throughout the night, using the dim moonlight to tend to it. Never in the palace would you have been able to do such a thing, to put your hands in the soil, to kneel in the dirt. But it makes you feel alive.   The flowers speak to you. Every day, you can see progress, you watch it grow, from the tiny sprout into buds. Your hard work is worth the effort, ripping out weeds by the fistful, watering them. It’s fulfilling to know your time isn’t spent so meaninglessly, even if the labour makes sweat pour from your head.   Tulips. Daffodils. Carnations. Sunflowers. Lilies. Baby’s Breath. Anything that you can get your hands on, you sow into the ground, watching to see what you reap, what blooms. And it’s a peaceful life. You’re content by yourself, simply waiting for the day that Jungkook will arrive.   But as you isolate yourself, your neighbors grow increasingly and increasingly curious. Even when they’re acres away, taking the path towards the forest each morning, they watch the garden flourish. And they come to ask questions as to why the owner of the house never makes an appearance during the daytime.   “Honey.” One night, a woman shakes her husband awake. “Honey…”   “What’s wrong?”   “I can’t sleep.”   “Are you hungry again?”   “No, that’s not it.”   He reaches over to light a candle at the bedside and he helps her sit up, leaning against the headboard of their meager bed. She turns to him, stroking her swollen stomach. Heavily pregnant, the couple have been long awaiting for their child to arrive. “What is it then?”   “Those flowers….from the neighbor’s,” the woman murmurs as if the shadows are listening, “how are they so beautiful?”   “I don’t know.” The man scratches his head in bewilderment, wondering why his wife is bringing this up in the middle of the night.   “They smell so good...I just….want one.”   “What? I’ll just buy you flowers from the florist tomorrow morning.”   “No, it’s not the same.” There’s a crazed look in her eyes, intensified through the light of the flickering candlelight, half her face covered in the darkness. “It’s almost like her’s is…..magic…”   “Don’t say that.” He sighs in exhaustion, unable to understand this nonsense. “Honey, just go back to bed. You’re not making any sense right now. We’ll talk about it later, alright?”   “I can’t stop thinking about it.” She lays down again, staring at the ceiling blankly. “Is it so bad to just take one?”   “Yes. That’s stealing and haven’t you heard all the rumours?”   She rolls her eyes. “Don’t tell me you actually believe those ridiculous things.”   “I just don’t want to upset anyone.” He moves to lay beside her again.   “I want our child to be as beautiful as those flowers,” she wistfully sighs. “I feel like getting one could help us with that, like a blessing.”   “You’re dreaming again,” he chides. “Sleep.”   But the woman was obsessed with it. She cannot stop her fixation of the flowers. The infatuation of them drives her mad and she refuses to eat, to drink, mind absorbed in one thing only. In three days time, the woman becomes sick and bedridden, endangering her child and the man is left helpless, having no other choice.   In the middle of the day, knowing that you won’t come out, he walks across acres and reaches over the white fence, plucking a tulip from the ground, snapping the stem in half. He runs.   It is mystical, the way his wife returns to her full health, the way she is normal and overjoyed again. But in five days, the purple floral withers.   “What’s wrong with you?”   “I need another flower.”   “What?” The man is in distress, following his pregnant wife around as she paces, one hand against her back and the other on her belly. He shakes his head, at wits end. “No, I can’t.”   “I NEED it!” She screams, losing her mind, trembling. “Those flowers, they’re magic. I can feel it.” The woman stops, grabbing her husband and holding onto his arms. She crazily searches his expression. “It makes me sad, but when I touch them, when I smell them, they give me a sense of….hope.”   “What are you talking about?”   “You don’t understand. I need it,” she pleads and begs like there is a scratch beneath her skin she cannot get to. It is as if she has become enchanted and bewitched by the flowers. The woman forces his hand over her swollen stomach. “If not for me, then for our baby. I could feel our baby move every time I was near that flower, but ever since it died...I can’t feel our child stir anymore.”   “...What?”   The woman sobs. “Please….please…”   The man becomes frantic. He steals another, and another. They die quicker than the last, petals and leaves withering away into grey hues. But the man begins to comprehend his wife’s obsession. They are indeed lovely florals, the biggest he’s ever seen, abundant in petals, rich in colour. His heart hurts when he nears the garden, but when he touches a flower, there is a burst of happiness...a burst of faith.   At first, you pay no mind. One or two flowers missing, it could be the wind or an animal or maybe a child wandering into your garden and not knowing better. It angers you, but you push it away. Until —   One night you open the door, watering pot in hand, but nothing remains. Gone. All of your beautiful flowers have been plucked, trampled, encroached. What remains is dirt, weeds, and stems snapped halfway. Everything that you had worked so hard for is stomped on and torn.   Flowers plucked, ripped away, yanked, the garden is pillaged and ransacked like a wild animal had been starved for decades. The most precious part of your horrid life has been stolen. You collapse in what remains. Lost.   But there are petals littering the ground, tiny ones of flowers that haven’t bloomed, of buds that have yet to open. And you follow that way lit by the moonlight, bumbling and stumbling, every step becoming heavier and heavier. Jungkook will never find you. You walk the flowered path, legs quivering in the breeze. Your face will never return to how it was. The grass prickles your bare feet. Your mother loathes you. It smells of soft fragrances that clung onto your bed sheets back home. Your father hates you. The world is silent. Everything is lost.   The door bursts open. The husband and wife scream.   In their home, their tables, chairs, the floor and their laps are filled of your flowers plucked. It coats every object inside of the cottage. The things that you were keeping alive — dead.   They cry and cower in the corner. The man shields his wife away, crouching back at the disgusting sight of you; your burnt flesh tinged in the colour of red roses, melted skin blooming of blisters and bruises, disfigured features arranged like they are falling off.   “You...you stole my flowers?” You drop to the ground, sobbing from your bulging eyes to your hollowed out cheeks. Your croaking voice screeches and bleeds their ears. “You ripped them away! You killed them!”   They were the only things giving you hope. And they’re...gone.   “W-...W-We’re s-...s...s-sorry!” The husband covers his wife with his body. “My-my...my wife is pregnant! P-please don’t harm her...i-if you want...t-take me instead!”   “No!” She wails out, hugging her husband’s backside as if she could anchor him down. “NO!”   “P-please don’t hurt her!” The cowardice man is rubbing his hands together, begging for mercy as he curls up in the corner beside his wife. “S-s-she’s pregnant!”   Your neck cranes. Your eyes narrow. Your arm lifts and you jut out your finger. “I’ve always wanted a little girl,” you tell them with a croaking voice and a soft smile appears on your lopsided mouth.   You always imagined a child, a baby cooing in your arms, bundled up in blankets, sleeping peacefully. He would come behind you, prop his chin on your shoulder, wrap his arms around your body like he so often does and together, you would gaze down at your child. But now you realize it isn’t a dream or a vision of the future that you see. It’s purely imagination.   Delusion.   “Jungkook….he wanted one too…”   “No...no...please.” The father-to-be begs, shaking as he tries to protect his family. “S-spare my child…”   You swallow hard, tearing your eyes away from them and down to the floor. Your fists are full of pink — yellow — blue — indigo petals. Each of them are soft to the touch, silk to your fingertips, pastel colours bleeding from a strong hue to a fainter shade in their teardrop shape.   “Your daughter will be beautiful, but it’s a shame her parents are greedy thieves,” you whisper, looking back at them, cursing the couple in both sadness and wrath. “On her sixteenth birthday, she will prick her finger and fall into an endless sleep.”   “NO!” The woman shrieks, crying out loud.   There’s a burst of light. The curse sets into stone. When the light diminishes, you are able to watch sunspots and sparks dance around the room, flickering like fire, moving like fireflies. They weave through the grieving pair, the gaps of your fingers, your little strands of grey hair remaining. The petals are still soft in your hands, but you let them go, staggering up.   They cry and you stop for a moment, gripping the door frame. But you never look behind you, lugging your body back to where it belongs.   //   It’s not long before chaos unravels again. The man becomes furious after he realizes what you’ve done, how you’ve cursed his future child and made his wife fear for her life. He gathers the villagers, revealing what had occurred on that very night, of course leaving out the part that he had stolen from you. He paints you as evil, merciless...and maybe you are.   But the villagers are all appalled, gasping, mothers worried about their own children, fathers stepping up to protect their families. They gather pitchforks and torches, stomping on the land.   “Kill the witch!”   They march together. “Kill the witch!”   “Kill the witch!” They hunt to burn you at the stake.   They holler, parading to the outskirts. “Kill the witch!”   “Kill the witch!” They trample on the dirt of your garden, kicking the loose stems and leaves.   The people surround your house, holding pitchforks high in the air, any knives and kitchen tools that they could defend themselves with. “Kill the witch!”   A brave soul steps forth, knocking down the front of your cottage door. There is silence. No one is there. “The witch isn’t here...?”   That’s right. You aren’t there. Your belongings are in your arms as you’re running, right leg limping behind with the sores that have grown all over your swollen ankles. Your clothes are packed with you, bread that you had left over. “Kill the witch!”   Their voices become closer, echoing through the forest and when you twist around to see them, you trip on a branch. Your broken face meets the dirt, colliding hard enough to dive a few inches away. But you don’t dwell on the pain that shoots up your muscles, ignoring the shock that your body feels. You pick up your bread soiled in the grime, collecting your things again, running, chased...yet again.   “Kill the witch!” — “Kill the witch!” — “Kill the witch!”   Jungkook will never find you. Yes. As long as you look like this. As long as you’re in this state, you are a witch. Y/N has died. Jungkook will never come for you. Your mom and dad will look at you in fear and hatred. Not even will flowers, inanimate objects, be capable of loving you.   “Kill the witch!”   You will always be seen as a monster.

“Hello, excuse me?”   “How may I help you?”   There’s a young man with plump cheeks, a gentle smile. His dark hair shags on his forehead, almost pricking into his cute eyes. His cotton clothes are muted in colour, showing that he is not overabundant in fortune. “Do you know where the inn is?”   “It should be down this market street, towards your left side.”   “Thank you.”   “You’re welcome. Any time.” The older woman behind her booth smiles in return, appreciating the polite young man. She watches as he walks away and then a frown mars her face, lips falling into a neutral position. He drags his foot as he walks, a limp in his left leg and a slight hunch of his back. She sighs in disappointment, turning away. What a shame….   But it wasn’t only those things. If the woman knew, she’d be aware that the boy has a burn mark that stretches from the top of his ribs to the right side of his neck. Like rose veins growing up his body, stretching across his skin in twisting marks, his skin slightly splitted with pink flesh underneath. But his scar is hidden beneath his clothing while his bad leg is on display, letting others stare occasionally — though he still does not mind much.   He walks down the path, looking ahead in the direction that the woman provided. The young man does not notice the other figure on the busy street. He pays no mind. And his shoulder collides with someone else’s, causing them to stumble back a step.   “I’m so sorr—”   “Minah?”   Your eyes are wide, bated breath held in your throat. Jimin’s eyes are big as well, pupils growing, mouth drawing open. He hasn’t heard that name for over a decade. “Y/N?”   You snap out of it, flinching back when you hear your name. “N-no...you’re mistaken.”   Your body turns around and takes flight before your mind can catch up. The young man is frozen, at a standstill. But then he runs. He runs after you - limping - leaping - struggling. Jimin drags his bad leg behind himself, accelerating forward as he shouts your name aloud for all to hear. He makes an absolute ruckus, drawing attention, making strangers turn to watch.   There is no way. No one else calls by that name. He’s sure of it. He knows that it’s you.   Even if you’re oddly shorter. Even if your voice doesn’t sound the same.   Jimin doesn’t need to see you to know it’s you.   “Y/N!” He grabs your arm, pulling you back.   “No!” you cry out, hidden behind your hood, downcasting your head. “Don’t look at me, Jimin. Don’t look at me.” Your hands are quivering, lifting to cover your face with your palms. He notices the red boils all over the back of your hand and he complies, releasing you and stepping back. “DON’T LOOK AT ME!”   //   It is silent. The bustling town becoming subdued into background noise. He approaches a man at a market stand, skimming through the objects laid out on the table brought from foreign countries, fancy souvenirs and little knick-knacks of all sorts of things. Luckily, he finds what he’s searching for and points to it.   “Hi, can I purchase this?”   He pulls out the right amount of coins and what’s left, he uses to buy some food.   Jimin approaches in slow steps. He gazes at your backside draped in the black cloak, oblivious to his arrival, simply staring out at the azure horizon beneath a tree. You’ve calmed down, no longer hysterical and he keeps his promise of not looking at your face. “Here.”   You peek up at him. Jimin is gawking at the clouds, refusing to look down. You take the mask from his hands. It’s painted in a plain seashell white, two holes for the eyes, a place for the nose and the mouth to breathe and speak. You put it on. And Jimin plops down beside you on the grass, finally looking at you.   “You must be hungry.” He hands you the bread with a soft smile.   “Thanks…” You take it, ripping a corner and it melts on your tongue. There’s no need to spit out tiny rocks or cough on dirt and debris. You can’t remember the last time you ate properly and your stomach growls, starved for days. Like an animal, you grip onto the warm bread with dirtied hands, chomping furiously, inhaling it whole.   Between the pair of you, it’s quiet for a long time, perhaps an hour or more. You’re simply accompanied by each other, getting used to the other’s presence first. There are so many questions to be asked, answers to receive, but nothing is spoken. It’s peaceful, serene — something you don’t experience quite often anymore.   “Where’s your father?” you ask.   The young man looks into his lap with a sad smile pulling into his cheeks. “He died.”   “I’m….I’m sorry.”   “It’s alright. He was old anyways.” Jimin takes a large inhale, enough to fill his lungs and brace himself for his first confession. “I fought in the war.”   “The war?”   “Up north. Four years ago. That’s why my leg and back is like this,” he explains and then tugs on his collar slightly, revealing part of the scar and his patchy skin. “That’s where this is from.”   “I…” You don’t know what to say. It’s been so long that the two of you are less like acquaintances and more like strangers with no connection. You don’t know the person he’s become and he most certainly does not know what you have become. “Why didn’t you ever come back?”   The corners of his mouth tugs upwards and he leans back, looking out at the horizon again. “There were so many places to go, so many places to do. I didn’t think you would remember a peasant boy like me. I...didn’t want you to be ashamed of me either.”   “You’re an idiot,” you spit out and he giggles, a squeaky noise that still shows his youth. For the first time in months, you smile as well, laughing with him even if it’s foreign, awkward, and sounds more like cackling. It’s the first time you’re feeling more like yourself.   “We’re friends, Jimin,” you correct him, though you aren’t so sure of if he still is a friend now. He may have been born of a lower class, but you, Jungkook, and Jimin were all childhood friends. You played together until he left with his dad before you turned ten. “I would’ve never been ashamed of you…”   “I’m sorry I didn’t keep in contact.”   “No, it’s okay,” you exhale. If you were frank, you didn’t know what to say or do. You were overwhelmed, sitting here with someone who used to know you, someone who knows your name, believes you beneath this ugly skin; the only person who sees you for who you are.   With his confession, you prepare for your own. “Jungkook and I…...we’re not getting married.”   He turns to you, quiet. Jimin doesn’t prod or dig deeper. He lets you tell him whatever you want, but his shock and confusion isn’t easy to hide. He never expected to run into you here. Even less, he never expected that you would be in such a state. You — the beautiful princess betrothed to the prince, ready to rule the entire kingdom together.   “I was….I was…” A thick lump forms in your throat. You detest the sound of your grating voice, a voice that is not yours. The desire to rip off your entire face is too much. As hideous as you appear, you feel ugly too. Your skin is itchy and cracking, always uncomfortable. There are boils that ooze of pus if you press too hard, raw flesh that makes it impossible to scratch. But some part of you feels better now that you’re fully covered with a mask. “I...was cursed by a witch.”   “And Jungkook?” Jimin seeks an answer, wanting to know.   “He doesn’t believe me. He thinks...he thinks I’m the witch who killed me.”   “That’s ridiculous.” Jimin takes your hand and when you flinch back, he never wavers, preparing to get up, curling his fingers around your wrist despite the rough skin there. It reminds you too much of when you were still children and he dragged you to places. But you’ve grown up long ago. “We need to go to the castle. I’ll help you explain. I’ll tell them who you are.”   “NO!” you shout, withdrawing your hand to your chest. “You don’t understand. They almost killed me!”   “What?!”   “They called for my execution,” you sob out, heart wrenching, full of the agony sewn deep into your chest. “My own parents threw me out! Look at me, Jimin. LOOK at me! Would they ever believe that this is their daughter?! Would Jungkook ever believe it’s me?!”   “But...but—”   “But nothing!” You’re exhausted and you’ve given up. The bottom of your mask drips of your teardrops. “They think I’m the witch who killed the princess, who stole her clothes, her memory, who’s trying to manipulate the kingdom…..and they’re going to believe whatever they want to believe. Just….look at me.”   He says nothing.   You swallow hard, sharing your grief, your anguish, your loss. You don’t even know if Jimin will believe you. He might just turn around, gather people, burn you at the stake. At this point, you wouldn’t run anymore. Your feet are bleeding, calluses forming all over the soles. You won’t make it far even if you tried. Maybe you should just give u—   “Where are you going now?”   “I don’t know.”   “Then let me come with you.”   You’re a burden. Why would he ever want to come with you, you’re unable to understand. “You don’t want that. I—”   “But I do.” He smiles. “I have nowhere else to go either.”   “Jimin…”   “So let me come with you.” He extends his arm, patting the top of your head over the hood once, gently, making you duck down and he retracts it with a small laugh. “Like the old days. We can have those adventures you always talked about.”   “It’s different now.” You’re speechless. “People, they don’t….they…”   “Can I come with you?” Jimin asks you sincerely and he is patient when waiting for your answer.   You’re not sure if he is just the same genuinely kind boy from years ago or maybe it’s just that he has sympathy and pity for you right now. The one thing you’re certain of is that if it is the former reason then he’s an idiot as always. If it’s the latter reason, there will come a day when his pity will run out and you will be abandoned again.   Nevertheless, you gaze at him and he gazes back at you.   You wonder how he can bear smiling at you like that.

There are days when it feels as if you were cursed eons ago. There are days when you forget you didn’t always look like this. There are days when you believe that this has been your entire life.   Those days are the easiest — you don’t remember what you lost.   When you encountered that witch all that time ago, you weren’t just cursed. It was less of a jinx and more of an inheritance. You not only received her legacy of a misfortunate face, but also the witch’s magic.   At first you were only able to channel it through anger and grief, cursing others as she had once done to you. Though as your life began to calm itself and your mind became clear, you began to tap into what was wrongfully bestowed upon you.   “A eucalyptus stem, a dash of peppermint oil,” you mutter, throwing the objects inside the pot, brewing it over the fire. The colour ripples and morphs from an apricot shade into deep plum. It oozes, boiling with thickened bubbles that pop at the surface. You look back to the old pages of the black book falling apart, words faint, drawings faded away in the ancient parchment.   Once it’s completed, you scoop the liquid with a ladle, pouring it into a bowl. It is a bitter scent that overwhelms your senses. But you repress the urge to gag and you brace yourself, taking a drink.   A second passes. You move towards the mirror on the wall. And you wait.   You wait for your skin to bubble, for your features to shift, for your face to return to the way it was. But it remains the same. The frame of your skull is seen, burnt skin thin, flesh raw and reddened. Your cheeks are hollow, eyes bulging out of their sockets, cysts and ulcers protruding in between your cracking skin. Nothing changes.   The mirror shimmers and you shriek.   The image that you see is horrific and your fingernails scratch against your dead flesh, leaving a trail of marks. You launch the bowl towards the clear surface. It smashes on impact. The mirror shatters — grooves separated the sharp pieces — jagged lines twisting into a spider web pattern. The liquid splatters, turning into a silver hue as it’s whipped in the air, the shade of moonlight. It drips down the wallpaper, weeping down into a sad puddle and expanding.   It shimmers with a touch of magic, liquid turning into its own mirror, reflecting the ceiling, mocking you. The one still on the wall is undisturbed, now reflecting your face at different angles, your eyes appearing tens of times, reminiscent to that of a spider. You hyperventilate, inhales and exhales staggering out of your lungs and then you march away, slamming the door open to the next room.   Three strides and you rip down the dusty fabric covering the full-length mirror in the corner. The clean surface is revealed and you grab the clock on the nearby table, hurling it at the glass and it bursts. The shards rush down in a shower, crystals and tiny fragments sparkling like jewels in the sunlight. You rush to the next room, tearing down yet another sheet covering the mirror and the oil lamp you throw crashes into it.   It splinters, cracks, ruined. You destroy every mirror that’s in your reach. Your reflection becomes fractured, splitting like your skin, and you scream.   “Y/N, Y/N!” There’s a call of your name, someone shaking your frame. “Y/N!”   You realize you’ve sunk into the ground, bleeding hands trembling and covering your face. “Don’t look at me, Jimin. Don’t look at me!”   “I won’t,” he promises and repeats, calming your hysteria. “I won’t.”   This is your home now — an abandoned castle found deep within the forest, lost in a siege and to history from decades ago. The stone walls are barely held together, floors damp and molded, the cold wind whistling through the grey bricks, but while the repairs are slow, they are surely being done. Jimin is working hard to make it more comfortable. And it’s your home now — you have to constantly keep reminding yourself.   There is no way you will return to where you grew up. There is no way you can go back to your palace where warmth was so easily found, where walls were white and paintings were hung, where a flicker of your hand could have servants running. There is no possible way you can be a part of that life anymore.   “There’s nothing…..nothing I can do.” You sit on a stool, bandaged hands in your lap, white mask on your face hiding your features. The black hood hides your head and you feel safe again, albeit ashamed. You watch as Jimin crouches down and cleans up your mess.   “I’ve tried everything. Everything that I could get my hands on, all the spells, the potions….but nothing works.”   “It’s okay.” A smile pulls on his features and he glances at you. “You’ll get it next time.”   It’s silent for a moment. Jimin is busy scrubbing the mess on the wall, picking up the glass shards. You feel like you’re a child grounded, all too guilty and every time you want to get up from the stool to help, he sharply inhales and glares. “I’m sorry.”   “It’s okay,” he says. “I’d rather you do this than keep all your feelings pent-up. It’s not healthy when you do that, you know.” Jimin’s lips pull up again, all too kind, and he taps his left temple. “I don’t like it when I can’t tell what you’re thinking up there.”   “....and what about you?” you ask him as he continues to rub the ugly wallpaper. “Aren’t you mad for cleaning up all my messes?”   “No.”   “You don’t ever get mad?” Your brow cocks and you tip your head to the side. “You don’t ever want to throw a tantrum too and then abandon me here?”   “I said no,” Jimin chides with a grin. “I won’t leave you so easily. I have nowhere else to go. And I know you need me too. I’m your henchman, witch.”   You scoff at his pout. “Yeah right.”   The hunched over man hums a low note, returning back to his job at hand. “If anything, I’m worried. You and I don’t know magic. What if it’s dangerous?”   “It would be a good thing if I blew up this place one day and died.” God knows you’ve escaped death enough times.   “It wouldn’t be good to me.” He becomes more serious, tone almost scolding. “I told you not to say things like that.”   “I’m sorry.”   “Then act like it, brat.”   A tiny smile graces your lips, even if he can’t see it behind your mask. You don’t deserve him — he’s the only one who has shown you compassion, and it’s not from pity either. It’s just who Jimin is. “Jimin…”   “Hmm?”   You want to do something for him in return and there’s only one thing you can offer him. “I can fix your leg for you…”   Immediately, his hands halt. His eyes stay in one spot. You continue, “I found a recipe for a curing potion. I made it too. It didn’t do anything for me, but maybe it can help yo—”   “I don’t want that.” The young man looks down, scrubbing the floor from the liquid that you threw earlier. His dark hair covers over his eyes, nearly poking at them. “My injuries….the scar...I don’t want them to disappear.”   “Why not?”   “I got them from the war. They’re my battle scars,” he murmurs. “I wouldn’t want them to disappear like that. They’re a part of me now.” Jimin finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes. “Shows what I’ve been through.”   “Are you sure?”   “I’m sure. So, don’t ask me again,” he murmurs with a soft smile.   “Okay, I won’t.”   Jimin moves on with a sharp inhale, hands working harder, almost furiously. “What did you make this time? It solidified on the ground.”   “It...did?”   He sits back on your ankles, taking a moment’s rest. “Your experiments are getting crazier, aren’t they?”   “I’m actually getting better at the whole magic thing, believe it or not,” you mumble, getting up from the stool and walking closer. You lean over to see what he means and when your eyes lay on the object, you gasp, stumbling back with a hand over your mouth.   “What?” Jimin is alarmed. “What is it?”   “I….I see me…”   The potion didn’t alter your outer appearance, it didn’t cure you. Instead, it stiffened into a silver mirror and inside, you see your old self, your true self. A joyous smile appears on your face and you pry off the magic mirror off the floor.   This is how you lead your life for the following years. You never give up on finding a way to reverse the curse, though slowly but surely, you become less obsessed with it. Magic becomes your new preoccupation. It isn’t frightening when you learn how to control it, when you begin to test your capabilities. And the abandoned castle becomes your new home. It’s nothing luxurious like the palace that you grew up in, but it’s comfortable and livable.   Through all of this, Jimin is the companion by your side. When he’s not accompanying you, he’s chopping wood or making repairs, growing plants outside and making sure there’s food on the table.   It’s a peaceful life, even if you’re hidden behind a mask.   “Hey!”   There’s a shout that has you stopping in your tracks. A rounded, golden ball bumps against your feet and you look down at it. The colour is a bright yellow, reminding you of the sun itself. The smooth surface sparkles in the light, glitter embedded into the toy.   “What are you looking at?!” The girl is in a pink ball gown, tiara on her head, on top of the mess of curls. She grips her dress with white gloves, wrinkling the expensive fabric, cheeks puffing out. “Pass me the ball or are you blind?!”   You went out to pick more plants — there’s a basket on your back, herbs and shrubs to make potions filled to the brim. You’re strolling through the forest without your mask, letting yourself breathe properly. But here you are, stopped by a child screaming at you.   “Am I talking to a wall? Do you know who I am?! How dare you ignore me! No one’s allowed to ignore me! Especially not a peasant like you!” The spoiled girl shrieks at you with her high-pitched voice, the shrill noise ringing your ears. She pouts, unruly as she is unbearable. Her arms cross and her eyes narrow.   “Are you dumb? Do you not understand what I’m saying?! Are you deaf?”   “I hear perfectly well,” your voice croaks. You look down at the ball and your legs move back, building momentum. Except, you kick it deep into the forest, as hard as you can, watching it swoop over the horizon and take a dive above the trees.   “HEY!!! What’s wrong with you?!” The brat marches up, ready to throw a tantrum and beat you with her fists. But as she approaches and your face becomes more visible, she slows down and her face twists in disgust. “Ughhhhh!”   She throws herself back dramatically, repulsed by you. “You’re disgusting! Are you an ogre?!”   Your eye twitches. You hand lifts. Your fingers snap.   There’s a poof of air, a cloud that floats away and when you look down, the luxurious gown flutters to the ground. In the middle of the discarded fabric, a frog hops out. It ribbits and you smirk. You hover over it for a moment before marching away. “Who’s the disgusting one now?”   People will always be fearful and repelled by your appearance. But instead of wasting anger and sadness on these measly fools, you’ve learnt to have fun. Though….   Jimin is less than approving of the way you embrace your newfound powers.   “I found it, Hansel!”   They sprint hand-in-hand over the meadow, giggling in excitement, rushing over. “The candy house!”   Soon, their laughter is replaced by crying and cackling that echoes throughout all the woods.   “No, please don’t put my brother in the oven!” The little girl is sobbing, holding onto the hem of your black cloak with her tiny fists. “Eat me instead!”   “Really? How noble of you.” You throw the boy away, lowering yourself down to her. You watch the way tears roll down her chubby cheeks and she sniffles, eyes swollen and red. A sigh is held in your throat. “Don’t you know that the people you care about so easily turn away when you need them most?”   The door bursts open. Sunlight pierces through your eyes. He limps inside. “What do you think you’re doing?!” Jimin looks around, connecting the dots of the open hot oven, the candy house, the crying children with chocolate stains all over their mouths. You slip your mask on before he can see. “Oh my god.”   “I found the ones who were stealing from us,” you gloat. “Did I do a good job?”   Jimin is silent. He is appalled.   “I’m kidding around, Minah.” You stamp your foot, offended he would really think you’d go this far. But your childish antics have no effect, even if you’re pouting behind the mask and trying to appeal to him. “I’m not really going to eat them. It’s only a scare tactic. Don’t be mad.”   He picks you up by the back of your hood, hauling you out. The children run free after grabbing armfuls of candy. You scream at them to never come back, but you know the greedy will never have enough.   There’s nothing to do, but cause trouble. You become better and better at magic. It comes from your fingertips, from mutters and murmurs, distracting you from everything else. And you become quite good at it.   You make a name for yourself. Becoming infamous throughout the land. People whisper about you, rumours spreading far and wide. People put you in stories to warn their children — fairy tales. Except in these fantastical tales, if your story was ever told, it would end with your appearance returning and Jungkook would rescue you from your misery.   And the two of you would live happily ever after together.   But you don’t know if you can bear putting your blind hope into that.   “What in the world are you doing?   The brewing room is small, but a sufficient space to work in. Jimin finally makes you restrain all your magical practices into one part of the castle. It makes less of a mess for him to clean up when it’s contained into a specific place. Though at the moment, he’s not quite sure if it makes any difference.   There are spell books and scrolls of witchcraft opened and stacked on top of each other. You traded and collected them, anything that you could get your hands on. On the shelves are bubbling potions and steaming concoctions, all labeled in a way where only you understand. None of them are the cure you’re searching for, but they do all sorts of things.   Across from the black cauldron is the magic mirror hanging on the wall.   “I just finished making something.” You hold up the palm-sized bottle. The tangerine shade seems to glow and it sloshes against the glass walls. “It can turn you into a fearsome dragon, Minah. You can really defend me now. Think about it — a dragon wrapped around this castle. Makes for a scary affect, huh? We’re really going to become famous. Want to try?”   “No.” He shuts you down and points to the brewing green liquid, as well as your other hand where you’re holding a stick with the other end pierced with a red apple, ready to dip it in. “I’m asking what you’re doing right now.”   “Oh, I’m making poisonous apples.”   “Why the hell would you need that?!”   “Well, I keep seeing this girl in the mirror. She’s asking for my help to escape her evil stepmother or something.” You shrug. “Anyways, she’s pretty happy-go-lucky and quite frankly very annoying with her whining and crying.”   “You’re going to….poison her?”   “You make it sound so much crueler than it needs to be.” You shake your head, keeping your tone light and airy. “I’m simply….teaching her that she shouldn’t keep bothering me.”   The apples immediately become confiscated and he scolds you, “I didn’t put in hard work to grow our fruit for you to use it this way.”   The title of evil witch — you don’t mind it as much as before. It’s sort of a fun pass time to terrorize idiots and the shallow. They deserve it anyways. You would’ve never been allowed to do anything in this manner back in the palace. You’re finally letting loose after an entire lifetime of regal dinners, proper posture, etiquette lessons.   And people can hate you all they want. You aren’t affected anymore. They don’t know you. They don’t know what you’ve been through. Their insults are meaningless.   You stare out at the dusk horizon, the gentle wind grazing against your fingertips. The birds are swooping over the sky, singing their songs and flying freely. The weather is becoming warmer.   If there was one thing you could appreciate the most in your circumstances, it was that you were living in the middle of nature. Every time you peek out the windows, there are trees and fields and meadows at a distance. It’s not dead stone walls — it’s alive. The forest is serene and you find yourself smiling while gazing out, even with your lopsided mouth, even if your skin still itches unbearably beneath the mask.   “Y/N?” Jimin approaches carefully from behind. “I need to talk to you.”   “I didn’t poison anyone,” you sing-song.   “It’s not that.” He comes down to sit beside you, staring out at the view. “I went to town the other day, remember? It was a three-day trip.”   “And?”   “Jungkook is getting married.”   The hunched over boy delivers the news sharp and swiftly. He doesn’t linger, ripping off your bandages instead of prolonging the pain. He turns his neck to stare at your covered up profile. It is silent. You watch a bird flying over top, weaving between the cotton clouds. “When?”   “Soon. Two weeks.”   “I see.”   “Y/N.”   You shift towards him with a smile. Even if he can’t see it, he can hear it in your croaking voice. “What’s for dinner, Minah? I’m starving.”   He nods and as you set the table, he gets the food ready.   The both of you don’t talk about it again.   But when night sets, you slip out of the castle, black cloak slicing the air. A three-day journey on foot takes less than a second for you when you use a teleportation spell. With the town sleeping, you steal a hose in the stables outside the inn. You tame it quickly and while you appear monstrous, it senses your sincerity.   You ride it towards the castle. It’s a full two hours through the forest and dirt roads at top speed, never once stopping or resting. You eventually make it with sweat dripping down your body, hiding yourself in the shadows. You’re invisible to the guards when you murmur jinxes beneath your breath, sneaking past them all too easily. Though while it is simple, every step of yours is pained.   You’re entering your home again as an intruder. While you had wished and imagined to return with a celebration, you’re slinking into the darkness instead, through all the secret passages known throughout your life. You avoid the servants and people inside, avoiding when you hear your parent’s voices, unable to bear looking or thinking about them.   Your steps are quiet, strides calculated, aches forming in your throat. It hurts. You turn down the hallway, eyes trained forward, and you enter the familiar room, standing in the shadows, bated breath held inside your throat. You don’t forget it once — someone else is here in place of you.   But it’s hard to remember when you find him staring out at the balcony. He sighs softly. You gaze. The strands of his brown hair blowing in the breeze, the slope of his nose, dip of his cupid’s bow, brown doe eyes too gentle. You had almost forgotten what he looked like.   “I just wanted a moment with you.” — Cheeky smile — Scent of the sea — Touch of warmth — “I missed you.”   You tremble. “J—”   “Jungkook.” A girl, younger than you are, enters from the other room and stands by his side. Long luscious hair draping her backside, flowing like her white night slip. She is soft-spoken, voice gentle and shy. You don’t know her name, but you know she is beautiful. “What are you thinking about?”   “Nothing,” he murmurs.   You missed the sound of his voice.   “Really? You looked like you were deep in thought.”   Your fists ball up, teeth gritting. You shake, overwhelmed in too many emotions, anger, sadness, hatred, sorrow. The urge to shut your eyes, put your hands over your ears and scream is too much. But you can’t move even if you wanted to. You’re frozen in your spot, soaking up every second, refusing to blink, gaze boring into Jungkook. You memorize his features, the way he smiles, he speaks.   But you shouldn’t.   He abandoned you. He had forsaken you. He left you to die.   “Why did you kill her?” — Eyes of intense with hatred — void of all feelings — a despising and loathing stare — “You’re scum.”   You can imagine it. All it would take is for you to shout and make yourself known. They’d spin around in horror and you wouldn’t waste one second to point and curse the both of them. You can do so much. You can curse their love, ruin their kingdom, destroy their reign. You can turn her into a monster right in front of his eyes and make him realize that it is possible for a princess to become this ugly, this evil.   But—   You can’t.   You love him.   “Trust me, I’m not thinking about anything.” Jungkook pulls her in for a side embrace, arms wrapped around her frame. Her hands wrap around his waist, nuzzling into his chest.   It’s quiet. They hold each other. It’s a perfect sight to behold.   “I wish I could have met her,” the beautiful girl murmurs.   “Why?”   “Just because.” She leans further into his chest, lips graced with a demure smile. “She must’ve been great and beautiful if you loved her so much.”   “You are too.” Jungkook tickles her sides. She giggles, squirming away, but he doesn’t let her out of his grasps, holding her close. After a moment, he presses a kiss to her forehead.   “Do you miss her?”   Jungkook pauses, sighing again. “She would’ve wanted me to move on.”   They talk about you like you’ve died.   Your throat aches to scream his name, to tell him that you’re standing right here, alive, that he never looked for you or at you. But no. To Jeon Jungkook, you are long in the grave, a ghost, a dead girl walking, an old lover that was part of his history. And the more you look at them both, the more you glance at them, it becomes unbearable. Suffocating. Intolerable. The gentle exchange, soft touches, smiles. It makes you feel sick to your stomach.   You fade back into the darkness without a single word spoken. You shouldn’t have come back.   Jungkook doesn’t love you anymore — you can see it as clear as day.   They love each other.   //   “Where are you going?”   Jimin asks, turning around from his seat at the table. You know that he knows. The boy with the hunched back and bad leg is perfectly aware that you left that night. You’re thankful that he doesn’t ask, despite having an inkling of where you went. Though his gaze still lingers with a trace of suspicion, not made from malice, but concern.   “Someone’s begging for my help,” you tell him in a snotty tone, lifting your chin high in the air. “Looks like I should open up a business for everyone’s magical needs.”   He laughs, eased at how you’re not brooding or dejected. But he still shoots you an unsure and doubtful expression. “And you’re going to help them? No tricks, no curses, no poison apples?”   “No poison apples,” you promise. “She’s a mermaid, you know. I thought I should at least meet her. I’ve never seen a mermaid before.”   “Do you want me to come with you?”   “You’d just drag me down.” Your hands are placed on your hips and you quirk your head to one side. “Let me do my own bidding...unless…”   “Unless?”   “You really want to become my henchman? Every witch should have a servant anyways.”   Jimin scoffs. “Come back before dinner.”   Yes,” you drag out the last sound, bidding him farewell.   You transport yourself, partly by magic and the other part by horse. Soon enough, you’re staring out at the blue horizon, the azure shade matching the sea. The water sparkles, glimmering against the sunlight. Your arm lifts and you remove your white mask. As the waves crash against the shore, the mist kisses against your face. The salt water stings against the sores and blisters on your flesh, but you welcome it. Your crooked nose inhales the scent of the sea.   It reminds you of someone that makes your heart ache.   But your thoughts are taken by storm when there’s an unusual splash in the midst of the waves. You turn your head, finding something in the water, and you stand taller.   There’s a gasp. You look down to find a young creature, a girl with big eyes and hair the colour of sweet strawberries. She’s obviously scared of you, mouth drawn open, brows knitted together. But she quickly composes herself, though nervousness still attached to her expression.   You catch her tail flickering out into the air behind her. Frankly, it’s fascinating, and you stare with your head lolled to one side. If you never knew magic or curses like you do now, you would’ve never believed in the existence of mermaids.   “A-a-a….a-are you the witch?”   “I’m a witch.”   In all honesty, you don’t know why you’re here. You don’t know why you’re openly offering yourself to help her. It’s not like you’re necessarily sympathetic to her situation. Maybe you’re doing this to prove to yourself that you can help someone, that you’re not a monster, that your humanity is still here. Perhaps seeing Jungkook has opened you up and made you softer, more vulnerable than you should be….especially in your current skin.   Whatever the case may be, what matters is that you’re standing here, where the sea meets the shore.   “What do you need from me?”   “I…” The mermaid is hesitant. Though as the seconds pass, she becomes more self-assured. Her gentle eyes turn stern and her fear is hidden away, admirable determination coming forth instead. “...want to trade my tail for legs.”   “Because you met someone,” you cut to the chase, unfazed by her surprised expression. You already saw it in the mirror. There’s nothing to hide. “A prince.”   The young girl smiles sheepishly and she is breathless. “I’m in love with him.”   You exhale in exhaustion, rolling your eyes. Now you remember why you didn’t like helping others — their kinds of love were all too shallow for your liking. Still, you lower yourself down to meet her eyes. She wades an inch back, alarmed by your disfigurement, but not letting it get in the way of her goal.   “And does he love you?”   “That-….it doesn’t matter.” She swallows hard. “I just want to see him again. I’m tired of being stuck in the ocean. I want to become human.”   “Becoming human is not all that great, trust me,” you tell her as honestly as you can, “and love…..love isn’t how you imagine it to be. Just because you have legs and you can talk to him doesn’t mean he’ll love you back.”   “I know that.”   “And you’re still willing to trade in who you are for him?”   “Yes.” She nods, all too earnest in her request. “I want...something different from this. I want to experience more. I want to know the world out there.”   She is terribly, terribly foolish. Naive. Innocent. You can’t stop her even if you tried. When it comes to these things, once someone has made their mind, they’re too stubborn to hear. “Well, I can help you, but there are limits to everything. If there wasn’t, I would’ve fixed this.” You point directly to your face and you continue, “If I give you legs, it won’t last forever. You’ll have a time limit.”   “H-how long?”   “I don’t know.” You shrug. “Believe it or not, this is kind of my first time giving a mermaid legs.”   The corners of her mouth upturn. “I’ll take the risk then….as long as I get to see him again.”   “I’ll also need something from you as payment.”   The mermaid is at least wise enough to become wary again. The trust she had amounted in the conversation disperses all at once and she stares as if you are an enemy ready to trick her, rather than help her. “What do you want from me?”   That’s a good question. There’s a lot you want, but nothing she can give to you.   You think hard before coming up with an adequate answer. “Your voice.”   “My voice?”   “Trade in your voice and tail for human legs.” You’re forced to hear your voice all the time, every instance in which you speak or whisper and you hate it. It’s not the same as it was before. It croaks, like you’ve been alive for three centuries, never melodic, never smooth. Your laughter is cackling, timbre squaking, tone husky and rumbling.   You’ve forgotten the sound of your own voice.   She frowns. “How will I talk to him?”   “That’s your problem, not mine.” You shrug again. “What do you think? Still up for this deal? You can take some time if you need to think about it.”   The mermaid contemplates for a minute, licking the seam of her lips, tail flicking the waves behind her. She gazes into your eyes before smiling and shaking her head. “No. I definitely want to do it.”   “Are you sure?” you warn her yet another time. “What happens if he doesn’t love you back?”   “Then at least I got the chance to love him.”   “How noble,” you muse.   Eventually, you’re led into a cave. It’s secluded from any prying eyes or ears. Every step you take echos against the cold walls, peaceful and quiet. The waters glow a sapphire shade, sparkling and enchanting. The mermaid reveals more of herself, propping her upper half onto a rock and you begin the ceremony, starting with an incantation. When you signal towards her, she sings.   It’s a soothing melody, echoing all around you, warm like an embrace. You’re surrounded in her voice, bewitched as if she were a siren. It’s lovely and you shut your eyes, feeling all too nostalgic. You used to sing too.   “You have a beautiful voice,” you whisper as her timbre reverberates around the cave walls.   She is both shy and caught off guard from your compliment. “Thank you.”   It takes a lot out of you to cast the spell. Although you’ve made a name for yourself, you are still no expert in magic or witchcraft. But it works and when she faints, tail morphing into legs, you drape her naked body with your black cloak, collecting her voice in a glass jar.   You cast one more look at the girl before you leave. It’s been a while since you’ve been able to sense such earnestness and you genuinely hope it works out in her favour.   When you return back home, you display the jar on your potion shelf. Jimin asks you what’s inside and after you tell him it’s the mermaid’s voice, he is horrified, but you brush it off with a smile.   From time to time, when things become hard, you crack the lid of the jar slightly. And her beautiful voice always filters into the room, all too sweet and soft. During those moments, you look into the mirror to see yourself smiling — your old self, the skin that you were born with, that your mother and father gave to you. Your hands always lift to touch your skin as if wishing that one of these days, your face would match the reflection, but you’re always left feeling the rough texture of your raw flesh.   Nevertheless, it’s nice to act like you’re listening to your own voice, looking at yourself in the mirror. Like nothing has changed from back then. There’s nothing wrong with playing pretend sometimes.   //   Two months later, Jimin notices the jar is gone from your shelf.   “Oh, I released it.”   “You….released it?” The cowering man frowns, not understanding, especially with your nonchalant expression. In curiosity, he asks, “do you know what ended up happening to that mermaid?”   You make a noncommittal sound in the back of your throat, continuing to stir the pot of soup over the fire. Tonight was your turn to cook. “The prince she loved ended up getting married to another princess. She was going to kill him, but couldn’t do it and threw herself into the sea. She turned into sea bubbles….and he never even found out that she was the one who saved him from drowning.”   “That’s….awful.”   “That’s love for you.”   You say it with so much certainty, like you had expected that outcome, as if there was no other ending to the story. But Jimin knew you well enough to detect your sadness and disappointment.   The magic mirror not only shows your old self or the people who ask for your help, but you also see Jungkook in it. One of the things Jimin doesn’t know is how you check in on Jungkook sporadically, stealing glimpses of his life, even though you know you shouldn’t. You still give in each and every time, too curious, aching to know, always hoping he’s doing well.   If you can’t be by his side, at least you can become a guardian watching over him.   But you know how pathetic it is.   Perhaps you’re as idiotic and naive as that mermaid. You should loathe Jungkook as much as he loathed you after you became this way. But if you force yourself to hate him, you’d be lying to yourself.   So you watch him. You allow yourself to indulge in one thing in your miserable existence and you watch how he lives his life. Occasionally there are special events like his wedding or the coronation. Other times, it’s something mundane like him eating, walking around the garden, or dealing with his royal duties.   And you still love him.   You don’t think they’ll ever come a time when you don’t. You grew up with Jungkook. Most of your loved memories have him in them. He was the person you chose to spend the rest of your life with after all.   But one day, when you call upon his name to the silver surface of the mirror, you don’t see him.   You see something else entirely, something else that is not Jungkook, but still him at the same time.   “A…..baby?”   Tears fill your eyes. An instinctual smile appears on your lopsided mouth. It’s a girl.   No one knows yet, not even his wife who’s carrying the child, but the mirror shows you and it never lies. You see the bouncing child, rosy cheeks, button nose, gooey smile and cooing laugh.   Your heart melts. Your eyes search every inch of the mirror, taking in Jungkook’s child that looks too much like him. And you’re happy. You want to congratulate him, even though it’s not possible and what fills you for once is not jealousy, resentment, or regret — it is the emotion of watching someone you love become happy, you are happy for him.   But your smile falls. The next thing the mirror morphs to makes you stumble back. Horrified.   The door slams open. Jimin’s eyes are wide. You shriek at him, helpless. “She’s going to die!”   “Who’s going to die?”   You’re hysterical, pacing in front of him, not knowing what to do. “I saw it. I saw it, Jimin. I saw it in the mirror!”   He limps after you. “What?”   “S-she’s destined to die at a young age. What should we do? What should we do?!”   Jimin finally catches up and grabs onto your shoulders, hands securing around them, forcing you to a stop. “Who?”   You cry, “Jungkook’s baby!”

In nine months, you work hard to search for an answer. All you know are curses and jinxes, but you begin to teach yourself blessings and charms, anything that will grant her favour for a long, fruitful life. But you don’t know what will work, what won’t, and you don’t want to risk harming the baby or casting a spell for it to backfire.   The blissful couple have no idea. They celebrate the pregnancy. Their joy and ignorance acts as salt on wounds. The rest of the kingdom also commemorates the queen’s upcoming child, completely oblivious that the child will die a young age, that tragedy will strike. You can’t bear the thought of it.   “How can you be so sure?” Jimin asks, concerned with your distress.   “The mirror doesn’t lie, Jimin. I saw it.” You swallow hard. “She’s going to die before she reaches the age of five. It...it was from a sickness and she was laying in bed and I saw her bones and she was coughing blood and it...it was horrible.”   When you shut your eyes, you can still hear the pained screams of the toddler.   “I can warn Jungkook.” The hunched boy meets your eyes. “I can tell him.”   “And do you think he’ll believe you?” You know Jungkook — he was your fiancé. “He doesn’t believe in magic or prophecies or any of that. No one in the castle does.”   “Then what do you want to do? What are you thinking?”   “I….I don’t know.” You’re at wit’s end. “But we have to do something.”   “Y/N.”   “I can’t let her die like that. It’s unfair. It’s...despicable.”   Jimin calls your name again, eyes following your form. “Y/N.”   You whip yourself around. “What?”   His gaze meets yours. His brown irises meet your eyes, locking his stare, the only feature he sees of yours behind the white mask. His mouth is downturned, brows knitted together, a knot made between them. It is silent. Then he murmurs, “Why does it matter so much to you?”   You’re left sputtering. “What?”   “She’s not your daughter.”   “I know that,” you spit out, wondering where this audacity is coming from. Your blood begins to boil beneath your skin and you halt in your spot, staring him down.   “Then why are you so worried? You haven’t been eating or sleeping.”   “We can’t let a child die like this—”   “If it’s her fate...then so be it.”   “Then so be it?!” Your voice booms, rumbling the air as if you were cursing all of humanity. Your fists ball up, bones rattling in your rage. “Then you’re saying I should just accept my own fate? Let my face be this monstrous?! Because it was my fate to be cursed?! To be thrown away?!”   “No—”   “You’ll let a baby die because it’s in her fate?!”   “You’ve let other people die all the time!” Jimin is loud, raising his voice over yours. He is unyielding, steadfast in the face of your anger. He knows there is something deeper to your distraught. “Suddenly, you’re so worried about Jungkook’s baby? Why?”   “Jungkook is your best friend,” you say as if it is enough cause for him to be worried as well. A sharp inhale is stolen through the seams of your lips. “And I…..I love him—”   “She’s not yours,” Jimin repeats.   He is worried about you, having no intentions to bring injury to your wounds. “I know that.” You turn away from the man, crying out your words, whispering the antagonizing syllables, “But I want Jungkook to be happy. Is that so wrong? I want his children to live.”   “I want Jungkook to be happy too.” He takes a step forward, reaching down to take your hand and comforting you in his soothing voice. “He’s my best friend even after all these years, so I know. I know it’s horrible that his daughter will die. I don’t want that either. But there’s nothing we can do. There’s nothing we can do, Y/N, and that’s...okay. It’s okay to let go.”   //   Except, there’s a lot that you can do.   You refuse to stand by, to be a witness, a bystander. You can’t. Knowing what you do, you cannot bring yourself to pretend you are ignorant to the tragedy coming. You refuse to turn a blind eye, to give into helplessness. Not when you can save the baby. If not for Jungkook, then for the innocent child.   She is born on the calends of May. Spring has begun to break through winter, warming the land, melting snow banks and rivers streams. Through word of mouth, you learn it is indeed a baby girl, healthy as a horse, the beautiful princess that one day shall become queen — just as you were.   The king and queen are blissful, rejoicing together without knowing what was coming.   Three days after the birth, an unknown darkness spreads across the kingdom. The door creaks open and a shadow enters. The balcony doors are left slightly ajar, curtains blowing in the breeze. Footsteps approach the cot. A scream ricochets through the room.   The child is gone.   “NO!” Sobs tear from her chest and rip out her throat. She collides onto the ground, on her knees, hair brushed back by the wind, white dress on her body making her ghostly. “Please! Don’t take her away from me.”   “I’m sorry.” Half of your horrific face is illuminated by the milky moonlight, eyes bulging out of their sockets, skin melted and shedding like a snake, mouth lopsided and nose crooked, flesh dead and hair stark white. You hold the sleeping baby close to your chest and after one last glance at the mother, you jump from the balcony.   Your black cloak slices through the air.   A blood-curdling scream wakes the entire palace.   The girl throws herself to the railing, looking over. You’re nowhere to be seen. Gone.   //   When you return, sleep has tinged your vision, making your lids and lashes heavier than before. The cold has made your flesh even redder, the colour of blood beading beneath your thin skin in dotting patterns like you’ve gotten chicken pox. You look down to gain encouragement, taking in the way the living being in your arms is breathing softly, rosy cheeks, long lashes, a tuft of hair at the top, all bundled up.   The warmth is inviting, the fire crackling. You enter with a sigh of relief, room blanked in a comfortable darkness. Jimin turns with a smile, about to ask where you’ve been, but the words die in his throat. His gaze befalls onto what’s in your arms. His expression falls. Despair is in his eyes.   “Y/N.” He speaks softly, disbelief bleeding through his whispers, attempting not to disturb the peace between you both. “What are you holding?”   “Jimin.”   “Y/N…” The man with the hunched back and burn scar limps two strides before stopping completely. “Is that…?”   “Jimin, please,” you plead desperately with a broken timbre, holding the child close to your chest, embracing her, surrounding her in the little warmth your body gives off.   “No, no…” He shakes his head, dead eyes becoming angered by the second. “You can’t do this.”   “Minah…”   “Give her back, Y/N.” Jimin’s jaw clenches. “You can’t take her.”   “I have no choice.”   “You can’t have her!” He screams and you physically flinch back. The baby is startled awake and begins to shriek and cry. You attempt to sooth her, patting her back while attempting to get him to understand why you’re doing this.   “Jimin, please.” You shield her away, stepping back.   “She’s not yours!”   “I know!” you shout back, breathless. The baby cries louder, making your ears want to bleed with the high-pitched wail. “I know that!”   “You think I don’t? She’s not my daughter. I keep telling myself that and I know I’m not qualified to be a mother either. Because of this,” you spit out while pointing at your face, “I can never have the life I always wanted. I will never have a family or children of my own — that’s all been ripped away from me. But….but I still want to save her.”   “How?!”   “I don’t know,” you shriek, sobbing, tears streaming down to the bottom of your white mask. “But I can’t let her die. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. I can save her. I know it. I can change the course of her fate if I take it into my own hands.”   He is made speechless.   Jimin runs a hand through his hair. “Y/N…”   “Please, Jimin...please..” You’re sobbing, holding the baby close and never letting go. “I can’t let her die. I can protect her.”

You’re not fit to be a mother. You don’t know how to take care of a baby. You’re ill-equipped to keep the squirming, living bundle alive in your arms. You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re scared. But you can’t let it be. There’s no other choice.   “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you murmur to the crying child, lifting her up in your arms and feeding her with the bottle of milk Jimin prepared. She latches on with closed eyes, becoming silenced and you take a sigh of relief, melting back into the chair.   You watch her, rosy cheeks, long lashes, doe eyes. You’re enamoured.   The chubby child coos, arm lifting tiredly, soft hand opening and it wraps around your finger. Your bated breath holds in your throat, a sharp exhale leaving through the seams of your lips, and you choke out a gentle laugh, brought to tears. Your heart is lighter. The corners of your mouth uplifts.   “I’ll protect you. Don’t worry,” you murmur. “Just grow up healthy, okay?”   The child gives a gooey smile after finishing the bottle and it makes you smile harder.   //   Jimin takes off his cloak, throwing it on the rack. He sets the basket of food down and begins to put it away in the cupboards. “They’re looking for her.” You look up, still holding her. “There was a royal decree and all the guards have been dispatched.”   “It’s okay. I set up protection shields around the perimeter. They won’t find us.”   He puts his things down and without saying much of a word, he walks over and opens his arms. “Here, let me take her.” When you hesitate, he eases you with a smile. “You’ve been holding her all night, let me have a chance too.”   You transfer her to Jimin’s arms. He grins, looking down, cheeks swelling, staring at her face and she giggles with a gummy smile. You smile. “She’s cute, right?”   “Adorable.” He pats her back firmly, smiling at you. “You should go rest. You were up all night taking care of her. From now on, we’ll switch back and forth.”   You blink the sleep away, a burst of happiness erupting in your chest. While Jimin still seems upset with your choices and angered at how you didn’t once ask for his opinion, setting off to do whatever you already set your mind on, he seems to have accepted the circumstances.   “I’m not happy with what you’ve done, Y/N.” He sighs, staring at the baby with a soft smile, head quirking to one side. “But it happened — there’s no point in arguing about it anymore. Let’s try our best to protect her and raise her well so that one day she can return to her rightful parents.”   “Okay.”   “Go sleep.” As he passes, Jimin pats your shoulder. “I’ll take it from here.”   When you worry whether you are inadequate, Jimin’s always here to reassure you. He helps you in more ways than one. But that still doesn’t stop the nightmares — people who you’ve cursed coming back for vengeance, harming the child as you have harmed them. Though when you awaken and rush to the crib, nothing has happened and you breathe sighs of relief.   More and more time goes by without you realizing. The guards come scouring a few miles away, but still nowhere near the abandoned castle where you are. You make sure the protection spells are always casted around the area, concealing the child from harm’s way.   Jimin’s farm flourishes and his trips to town lessen for his own safety. The two of you become increasingly self-sufficient and you also spend less time staring at your former self in the mirror. There are times you forget about the room tucked away in the back, about bubbling cauldrons and bewitching jinxes, the reflection which shows your old self underneath this hideous skin.   When you do use magic, it’s for her. Whether it’s coming up with medicine to cure a common cold or learning about charms to keep her warm, it seems like the days of curses and making poisonous apples have all but disappeared.   Time passes by quicker when she is in your life.   “Look, it’s a teddy bear.” Jimin shakes the stuffed animal in front of her, smiling with crinkled eyes when she grabs hold of the cotton toy. He lowers his voice, pretending to be the bear. “Hello there, little girl. I love you! Your hugs are so warm.”   You stifle back a laugh, watching his childish antics. “Little girl? You sound like a creep or wolf in the woods or something.”   He pouts. “Well, we should probably give her a proper name already instead of calling her the baby.”   You smile, glancing down at the child who looks like a dumpling all wrapped up, rounded cheeks pink and nearly bursting. “They named her Nari.”   “Nari?”   “It means lily.”   “Nari.” He calls her gently, corners of his mouth uplifted. His eyes flicker up to yours. He takes the last syllable of her name and attaches a suffix of ‘ah’ to it. “I guess we can call her Riah since you call me Minah.”   A soft laugh streams out of your mouth. “Okay.”   She grows steadily and gradually. There are countless nights where you are scared to death, when she has a cold or doesn’t feel well, sneezing and coughing. But those nights always pass and during the day, she begins to giggle, opening her eyes more often, making eye contact with you.   Throwing up on Jimin is probably one of the favourite things she does. It never fails to make you laugh.   “Jimin! Jimin!”   “What is it?”   “She’s rolling!” You gasp in amazement and the chubby baby with stuffed cheeks nearly exploding builds momentum in her tiny body and rolls herself to her belly. You know she’s becoming conscious of the world, especially when she stares around with her big eyes, and your heart always swells watching her.   The child sits up by herself. Then you switch to solid foods that she constantly throws across the room. She becomes fussy when teething. Makes trouble when she begins to crawl and mess with the old furniture. She understands the word ‘no’ and pouts when you say it. She points to things, babbling incessantly, tens of sounds leaving her lips like she is stumbling on her own tongue, and you pretend to understand even when you don’t.   Jimin has fun playing with her. Sometimes he throws her a bit too high for your liking, other times putting her on his shoulders and further hurting his back, making you distressed. He also tends to hold her like she’s bread that just came out of the oven, running around and pretending she can fly, making her giggle hard enough to throw up. But he is always gentle, cooing at her, making sure she is safe and happy.   “Say ah!”   She turns the other way, huffing and sulking. “Come on, Riah. Take one more bite for me! It’s good for you! It’s carrots! It’ll make you grow big and strong. Jimin won’t be happy if you don’t eat it. It took a lot of work for him to grow it.”   The toddler finally looks at you. She blinks. Her short arm extends. Her chubby cheeks puff out. Her lashes bat. She points at your face and you’re taken back, startled. “Mama!”   You almost drop your spoon.   You’re sputtering as if she could understand the conflicting emotions brewing in the pits of your stomach, making you all too uncomfortable. “N-No...I’m—….I’m ..not your mom.”   But the child is adamant. “Mama!”   Tears flood your vision, happiness prevailing over sorrow and guilt, and you nod. “Okay, okay. Take one more bite for me.”   You feed her a spoonful while crying. She is confused, staring at you, but you wipe your face with the back of her hand. The child is never once scared of your disfigurement, not in the least bit.   She grows up too fast. There are instances when you turn around and swear she’s gotten taller, she’s caught onto things, learnt a bit more, become smarter, wiser. While she is healthy, the lingering fear only intensifies. You question if you’re doing the right thing, if taking her away from her real parents will do her more harm, but when you gaze upon her, you know there’s no other way.   You will risk everything if it means she’ll be alive in the end.   “Come here!” He encourages her softly. “Come here!”   Slowly, she lifts her arms off the chair and stumbles like a drunkard towards Jimin’s open arms. She staggers, one leg in front of the other, babbling happily as she does so and your mouth draws open in shock. Jimin triumphantly grins, the both of you witnessing her first steps.   “Yay!” He lifts her high in the air when she makes it, making giggles bubble out of her small body. “You did it!”   You never thought the pair of you, ostracized in your own way, would be able to find so much happiness.   “Minah.” Your feet pad after him.   “No.”   “It’ll be safer.”   “Absolutely not.” He twists on his heel, harshly whispering underneath his breath. He didn’t want to wake the toddler who was down for the night after much effort. “We are not going to lock her up in a cold tower. Are you crazy?!”   “We’re not locking her! And it’s for her own protection,” you reason, frustrated to no end while he’s annoyed. You take a deep breath, explaining to him what you’re worried about. “We have to protect her.”   “And we can do it here.” His arms open wide. This time, he doesn’t give in to your pleas. “Where she can roam free.”   “But I can’t watch her all the time.” You shake, swallowing the thick lump in your throat down. “Yesterday, I turned around and she was gone. Gone. Do you know how scared I was? One of these days…...I-.....there’s only so much I can do.”   Jimin approaches calmly and strangely comfortingly. “That’s not true — You have me.”   If you were alone, if it weren’t for Jimin, you don’t know what you would do. For one, you probably would’ve driven yourself insane, paranoid enough to keep the child locked up like some prisoner. He brings you back to reason, calming your overwhelming emotions. It makes you feel better to know there is someone here to lean against, to rely on. You can breathe easier.   “Look at what you did. Your hair’s all tangled!”   “Sorry,” she mumbles, sitting on the small wooden stool as you run a comb through her dark locks, brushing them until they’re silky smooth. “I didn’t mean to.”   You exhale, becoming gentler. “Just be careful next time, okay?”   “Okay.” The four-year old turns around with a big smile, making you sheepish and melt in your spot. It’s dark outside, forest mysterious and the winds knocking against the windows. But here inside, it’s warm — the fire is flickering in the brick hearth, burning the wood that Jimin had cut. He’s gone to bed early, letting the both of you have your own time. You’ve removed your mask.   Yet, as the young girl gazes upon you, there is no fear, hatred or loathing in her eyes. You are not worried that she is ashamed of your appearance, that her tolerance and patience will run thin and someday she will abandon you. Her stare is ever so loving — you’re not used to it.   “Mama…”   “Hmm?”   Her head tilts, having no restraint when her mouth tumbles out the innocent question. “Why is your face different from mine?”   “I didn’t always look like this,” you whisper like you’re revealing a deep secret. No one knows an ugly witch like you would be able to shed such sorrowful tears. “Aren’t you scared?”   Her soft, chubby hands hold your cheeks. Her smooth fingertips brush against the scales, the blisters and ulcers that ooze of pus, burnt flesh rough to the touch, crooked nose and melted features. Her doe eyes glimmer in fascination. “No. I’m not.”   She doesn’t care.   The child is curious if anything. Wonderment has filled her rounded irises, transfixed at how different you are, how unique it is. It’s here that the promise you’ve made in your mind has metamorphosed into an oath — you will protect her with your life. You will protect your daughter.   “Why would I be scared of my mama?”   “That’s right.” Your arms wrap around her, squeezing her into a warm hug. She giggles against your shoulder, sounds playful and muffled. You thank the heavens that she’s here with you.   //   Of course, the day does arrive as the prophecy foresees it.   Right before turning five, the girl is sick and bedridden, coughing blood out and unable to eat or drink. It’s your worst fear come alive, all the nightmares and worries you’ve had to this point flaring to life in one chaotic mess. It’s Jimin who calms you down and gets to work. He assigns himself to food duty, making sure the child has full meals even if she doesn’t want any, keeping her warm in blankets and giving her medication, seeking out the best in the town at any cost.   You focus on the magic aspect, spells and incantations, giving any blessings that it is possible in this universe, utilizing protection charms while murmuring her name. The vision you saw in the mirror all those years ago were of the child in the palace. All you hope for is that this drastic change you’ve taken has altered the course of her life as well.   For seven nights, you hold her through the worst coughing fits, through thundering storms, all while horrifyingly feeling the life drain away from her small frame. It’s miracle after miracle when you make it out after each night; the dawn symbolizing a new day. And it’s a miracle when she shows signs of recovery, albeit body weakened.   She is alive. Even after all the crying and cuddling, she’s alive and that’s all that matters.   You cry tears of joy and you and Jimin embrace each other, overwhelmed in relief.

The girl passes her sixth birthday healthy as a horse, happy as a clam, and that’s when Jimin brings something up, something that you had been avoiding and pushing away for so long.   “Y/N….”   “Hmm?”   “It’s been six years.” He meets your eyes, careful and while you have an inkling of what he’s going to say, you refuse to acknowledge it. “The prophecy said she would meet tragedy before five, right?”   “And?” You look away, continuing to fold her clothes that have been out in the sun all day.   “She…” Jimin blinks away the tears, tilting his head up to the ceiling. He inhales a breath. “She should go home.”   “This is her home.”   “Y/N.”   Your hands stop and you look down to the floor. The shadows seem to expand with the flames dancing back and forth in the fireplace. “You want to send her away? She’s our daughter.”   “She isn’t—”   “We raised her!” your shout echoes throughout the room and it’s only luck that she doesn’t come bumbling out from her bedroom, rubbing her eyes and whining at the noise. Your chest is rising and falling, hyperventilating and you tear your eyes away from his. “We held her when she was sick, we were here throughout all those nights, we fed her, we watched her grow up and now...now you want to send her away?”   As much as it hurts him, he still gently persuades you. “Jungkook is still looking for his daughter. Even after all these years.”   “It’s not right!” you cry out, despite knowing there’s no argument you can make, nothing you can say that would make what you’re doing right. “We can’t!”   “Jungkook and his wife miss her. We took her away from them. It’s not fair to them.”   “But...but...what are we supposed to do without her?”   He swallows the thick lump in his throat and walks, dragging his bad leg over towards you. “We’ll figure something out. It’s not like we won’t see her again.”   “We won’t.” The hunched man hugs you, your croaking voice muffled into his shoulder. “How will we see her again when I look like this?!”   “We’ll watch from afar,” he whispers, “And...we can visit sometimes in secret.”   “Jimin…” You weep, unable to bear the thought of giving your child away. It feels like you’re abandoning her.   “I know.” His back is hunched, but he still pats the top of your head gently, bringing your masked face to his chest, comforting you in spite of his own heartache. “I know it’s hard.”   You didn’t know this day would come so soon.   She is still much too young to send away, to send back, but you know she’s older than you think she is. Your hands can’t help the tremble as you button her up in the nicest jacket, combing her long hair to rest behind her shoulder, making her look as pretty as can be. She’s taller now, doe eyes that remind you too much of Jungkook sometimes, like a deer in headlights that make you laugh.   Except now, you’re crying.   “Mama, what’s wrong?”   “Nothing.” You wipe your face with the back of your hand. As much as Jimin tried to remain strong in his own convictions, he couldn’t do it. You know he’s suffering as much as you are. He simply kissed the top of her forehead, told her to be good and that they’ll see each other soon.   But the brave face he displayed has crumbled. The hunched man is locked in his room, refusing to leave. You’ve taken the liberty to bring her there, spare him of having to watch her walk away.   “Where are we going?”   She lifts her arms, stroking your tears away and you smile. “Somewhere.” The answer you give is vague, though she seems to not prod anymore and you take her small hand that barely wraps around yours. You can still remember when her hand used to wrap entirely around your finger and the memory doesn’t help when you’re trying not to break down into more sobs.   It’s the first time you truly bring her outside. In the past few years, Jimin has taken her to the garden out back, but she’s never been allowed to go beyond the forest line, where the trees begin to thicken. So when you guide her towards them, allowing her to go forth, she is fascinated.   The young girl laughs, giggles, all too giddy. Though when she looks up at you, she is made confused and scared at how quiet you are, simply giving her an endeared smile. You mask your emotions, holding her hand, taking her for a stroll around the forest, your home.   When you’ve collected yourself to say goodbye, you tell her to shut her eyes, murmuring your spell. She grins, loving your magic, and within three heartbeats, you’ve materialized in front of Jungkook’s castle. Even at a distance, standing on a grassy hill with no one watching, the scene in front of you sends pains towards your chest, constricting your breathing and making it hard to think.   The stone walls stand high, towers majestic. Your home….your old home...is still tall in the sky.   “Where are we, mama?”   You lower yourself down onto your knees. You hold her hands again. Your eyes lock into her’s. “Nari, listen to me, okay? That’s going to be your home from now on.” You point towards the castle and her eyes follow, bewildered.   “What about our home?”   “It’ll still be there, but you’re going to stay here from now on,” you calmly explain.   “And what about you?” The young girl searches your expression. “Are you coming with me?”   “No.” You force yourself to speak past the painful lump in your throat, keeping your gaze stern and unyielding. “No, I’m not.”   “You’re….leaving?” Her voice increases in pitch, expression rippling and all at once, her mouth downturns, vision flooded with saltwater, sniffling with her shoulders, legs trembling.   “You’re a good girl, Riah.” You sniffle, bulging eyes burning when you force the tears back. The words spew off your tongue, trying to say everything you want to before it’s too late. “Jimin and I, we love you very much, okay? You were the best thing that happened to the both of us. We’ll visit you again, don’t worry. I...I love you.”   You embrace her, arms wrapped around her small frame, pushing her to your chest. A few years ago, she was only a bundle of blankets. But now she’s a safe little girl with a long life ahead of her, the rightful princess of the kingdom. Her parents have been waiting for over half a decade and while she might forget about you someday, this is all for the best.   “No! D-Don’t...lea..ve...m..e…” Riah cries, wailing as teardrops spill down her cheeks like rain. She hiccups and begs, “Please! I-...I promise I’ll be g-g….ood from now on! So...don’t go! S-stay with me!”   She hangs onto you with all her might. You pry her grip off of you, standing. Your feet move on their own accord, away from her despite your steps being heavy. Eyes shut. Resisting the urge to cover your ears. Heartbeat thundering against your rib cage.   “Mom!” your daughter yells. “Don’t go!”   — “Don’t leave me!” —“Stay!”   //   Jimin sits in his silence. Defeated. He is at the table when the front door creaks open. His eyes are swollen red and he can’t feel his face, numb from the salt that poured down his cheeks.   “Y/N?” His voice is unrecognizable, hoarse from crying, form still shaking.   You enter inside, mask hiding your features, black cloak draping your body and hiding your head. You stand motionlessly in front of him. He asks you with a heavy heart, “y...you...did it?”   Before you can answer, there are padding footsteps behind you. Someone runs, a girl who’s still crying and she has no reservations, launching into his arms. Jimin barely manages to catch her, surprised and standing back with his limp leg. His crouched back aches, but he is wholeheartedly confused. The man looks at you before down at the girl.   She embraces him with an iron grip, scared to be taken again. “Dad!”   “I…” You lower your head, dejected, ashamed. “I couldn’t do it.”   You are weaker than you thought. You couldn’t bear letting her go.   Maybe you’re really evil and selfish after all.   Jimin sighs, not knowing what to do or say. He simply hugs the child back and after a long moment of cooing her, stopping her sobs, he ends up saying, “maybe...maybe next year.”   Next year never comes.   One by one her baby teeth fall out, replaced by an adult tooth, and you tell tales of a tooth witch that gives chocolate in exchange for the fallen tooth. In the morning, she’s bouncing around, showing off her sweet treat to you and Jimin that you had snuck in during the night.   She’s taught reading and writing by you while Jimin takes over lessons in math after he painstakingly watched you struggle to explain how to multiply. He also teaches her plants and natural sciences while you are assigned to history and magic on top of the others.   The child becomes taller, smarter, more independent. She is insisting on doing things on her own, like brushing her hair, and while it makes you sad that she’s growing up so quickly, you begin to let go. She becomes increasingly curious about the outside world as well, asking questions about the universe beyond the stone walls. While sometimes Jimin brings her to town with him, she is usually outside in his small garden or inside her room.   Despite isolating her from the rest of the world, you know it’s for her own protection.   But she’s not the only one who becomes older. Jimin becomes slower in movements, back more hunched, still refusing for you to use magic on him. So you help him using other remedies.   As for you, Riah’s independence allows you to tap back into magic, helping people fulfill their wishes. You watch as their greed destroys themselves — a servant girl who transforms herself for one night, ball gown and glass slippers, fooling a prince into infatuation, only to be left by him when he finds out her true identity. A miller’s daughter willing to sacrifice her newborn to spin straw into gold to get a king’s attention. A woman helped into marrying a bluebeareded man she does not love for his fortune, only to beg for your help again when she wants to be freed and take his riches.   Humans are disgusting. Ugly. You see it clearly now.   “I’m back!”   “Welcome home.” Jimin is at the table as usual and you shut the door, setting down your satchel and hanging up your black cloak.   “Where is she?”   “Oh, you know...around.” He smiles, continuing to chop the carrots, the even rhythm soothing to listen to.   “Everything was okay?’   “Yeah, same old.”   Right as you’re catching up with him, there are quick footsteps and the young woman you were speaking about comes waltzing in with a grin. “Good morning! I missed you!” She rushes over, giving you a quick squeeze with her arms. She pulls away, stealing a carrot slice from Jimin with a giggle and then grabbing an apple from the bowl before skipping back into her room.   It’s so quick. You blink and she’s gone.   “What was that?”   The hunched man laughs. “You tell me.”   Now that you think about it, she’s been so happy lately like she’s walking on clouds. “Did something happen?”   “No.” Jimin tips his head to the side, frowning and trying to think. He can’t come up with anything and shrugs. “It’s at least better than when she used to slam doors and stomp around.”   You laugh in agreeance, brushing past him. But Jimin’s eyes stray off and he immediately brings up his arm, knife dropping on the cutting board, hands curling around your wrist, stopping you. He flips your palm away from him, staring at how a leaf is stuck to your skin. “What happened?”   “Oh, it’s nothing.” You slip out of his grip. “It was from a wolf I encountered on the way back….”   “A wolf?!” His eyes are doubled in worry. “What in the world…”   “I grinded up some herbs that I had so, I’m fine.”   “Sit down,” he orders with a glare. “Right now.”   His command has you complaining, dropping down to the seat across the table. He takes out a small box from the upper shelf, full of bandages and gauzes. Jimin wipes off your makeshift dressing, his brows furrowed slightly, eyes lidded in concentration not to hurt you further.   He is much older now. You notice the longer you stare. His dark hair is marred by grey strands, wrinkles creasing his skin around his eyes and mouth where he usually smiles and laughs. But while he was becoming sluggish and easily tired, he is a calmer force than before.   “I know you think magic’s a good solution for everything, but sometimes all you need is some traditional medicine and a few bandages.” He pours a clear liquid over your split wound, the sting causing you to wince. He hums, acknowledging your reaction and becoming even gentler than he was before. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t scar.”   “It doesn’t matter if it does or not.” You have blisters and boils all over your hands anyways. “Do you think it’ll really make a difference?”   Jimin looks up at you, even if you’re still hidden behind the white mask. “So because you think it doesn’t make a difference, you’re willing to take stab wounds and stand in fire?” He scoffs at your ridiculousness, scolding, “I won’t let you get hurt.”   “Minah…”   “What?”   You gaze at him, eyes softening. “Do you ever want to leave?”   “What?” His hands stop.   “Aren’t you tired of me sometimes?” you murmur, “I mean, I’m tired of me. I want to leave me behind all the time. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to go somewhere else. You’ve already stuck by me for so long.”   “Are you trying to kick me out or something? Is that what you’re trying to say?” The corner of his mouth lifts and he looks down again, bandaging up your wound properly and neatly, skilled hands working.   “When you came with me, you wanted to live out adventures, but we don’t have any adventures anymore.”   “Raising Riah was the best adventure and every day with you is already an adventure. He smiles again, pupils flickering up to lock into yours, still holding your hand. “Pirates, wolves, goblins...there’s always exciting things in our lives.”   “Sorry—”   “I’m not going to leave, Y/N. I don’t want to leave. This is my home. Riah is part of my family. You are part of my family.” Jimin sighs. “I don’t know why even after all these years, you still think I’m going to get tired one day and up and leave you here.”   “It would be understandable if you did.”   “But that’s not what I want, lady!” He laughs, feeling like he’s talking in a circle. “Get it through your thick skull!”   Aren’t you tired of seeing my face? Aren’t you tired of being around something so ugly and unsightly? — You can’t bring yourself to ask the questions on the tip of your tongue.   Even with Jimin’s reassurance sometimes you feel scared. What you have is so fragile. It would take less of a curse, a spell, to have the people you love the most abandon you again.   “I’ll be back in six days.” As usual, now that you were back on your journey, it was time for him to go on his. Jimin is heading to town to stock up on a few necessities. It had been a while since he ventured into the outside world.   “Can you get me those charcoal pencils?” Riah asks with bright eyes.   “Course, I will, sweetheart.” He presses a light kiss to her forehead, smiling, before looking off at you. His eyes melt into a gentler gaze of unspoken affection. You return his smile. “I’ll be back soon.”   “Have a safe trip.”   “Bye!” The young girl waves at the doorway, sunlight hitting her skin, shadow painted across the floor. “Don’t forget!”   It’s underneath your skin — a feeling that it’s not right, that he shouldn’t go. Your heart is heavy, intuition screaming. But you push it back and away, turning around, letting him go anyhow.   “Have you eaten yet?”   “I already did!” Your daughter is chipper, ginormous smile nearly breaking her face. “You should eat if you haven’t. I think I’m going to go back to my room early. I’m in the middle of this book and it’s getting really exciting.”   “Is it now?” You smile. “Did something happen, Riah?”   “Something…?” Her head quirks, another smile, shyer, appearing on her features. Her cheeks deepen in hue and she shakes her head. “Not really.”   “Alright, go on then. But did you finish that homework book I assigned you to read?”   “I did,” she chimes and runs off.   It’s quieter without Jimin around. You eat and wind down by yourself, but you’re unable to shake the unsettled feeling. No matter how much time passes, you’re unable to whisk the emotion away.   In the middle of the night, you throw the covers off of yourself, slam the door to the tucked away room open and you look into the mirror. A reflection of smooth skin and shining eyes greets you. It’s the you before the curse, who smiled at the smallest thing, who was bursting with youth and happiness.   You dispel away the picture with the mutter of Jimin’s name. It shows you the image of him rested in the forest near a riverbank, safe and sound. Yet, the discomfort lingers and you call upon Jungkook’s name, finding him sleeping in his castle. Breaths stagger through your parted lips and you stalk the next thing you think of.   Footsteps pad against the cold floors. You shove open your daughter’s door.   The bed is empty. The window is wide open.   She is gone.   //   You wait patiently. There is nothing you can do but wait and hope for the best. In the back of your mind, you know you’re too scared of going to the mirror, of saying her name and witnessing a horrific image of where she might possibly be. So you wait.   It is the middle of twilight, hours later, that there is the sound of ruffling. There are soft giggles, a rope of yellow hairs thrown up to the open window, latching onto the window hook. She grips it and her hands clutch onto the window pane, pulling her body up. The girl notices the shadow in the corner. Her laughter dies in her throat.   She gasps. “Mom?!”   “Where did you go?” You emerge from the darkness, face twisted with anger. “Who was with you?!”   Your shout booms, causing her to flinch. But you are undeterred, pacing towards the window to get a look, only for her to block you with her body, arms open wide to prevent you. “Mom!”   You catch a silhouette running towards the thick tree lines and your eyes dart back towards her. “Who was that?! Where have you been going?!”   “I...I met someone, okay?”   “Who?”   “He says he’s a prince from the neighboring kingdom.”   “A prince?”   “Yes.” She smiles, breathless, looking up at you. The young girl holds your hand in her’s, and she searches your expression, speaking earnestly, “he’s great, mom. He’s the sweetest and kindest boy I’ve ever met.”   “Where did you even meet him?”   “I met him in town once when I was with dad and then I ran into him in the forest again.”   “You’ve been in the forest without my permission?!”   “Mom…”   “And you think it’s okay to go running back into the forest in the middle of the night like this?! Do you know what’s out there?! There are wolves and humans and horrible—”   “It’s okay.” She exhales, grin swelling into her rosy cheeks. “He said he’s going to protect me.”   “Don’t be so stupid!” You throw her grip off of you and she stumbles back in surprise. “You think he would save you if push comes to shove?! He wouldn’t. How long have you been seeing him?”   “I-I don’t know….for a while now.”   You’re speechless. You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to say. You’re in need of someone calmer, who can re-direct you in the midst of your overwhelming emotions and fears — you need Jimin. But he isn’t here.   So, you take a deep breath, finger coming to point towards her.   “You are not to see him again.”   You shove past the girl, closing the windows and locking the latch, drawing the curtains in a rough motion.   “Mom!”   “I don’t know why you ever thought it was a good idea hiding this from us for so long, but we never talk to strangers. What have I taught you? We never believe what someone tells us. We never leave in the middle of the night and go into the forest if we want to stay alive.”   “He’s not a stranger!” The girl pants, chasing after you. “He’s nice and kind and—”   Your heel twists around, eyeing her. “And you believe that?!”   “Yes, I do!” She is too certain in her convictions. “I love him.”   You are shocked, taken back, and you shake your head with a scoff. “Love?”   “I love him.”   “And does he love you?!” You’re shrieking at her in a high-pitched voice worth ringing ears, ready to pull out the remains of your hair, like a true witch driven to madness and wickedness.   “He said he’s going to marry me,” she argues back at you, saddened by your reaction, hurt by your tone.   “He’s a liar.”   “You haven’t even met him yet,” she disputes. “If you just met him, I know you would love him—”   “What did I tell you? We don’t believe in that kind of love,” you plead with the girl, softening your voice to get her to understand. “You don’t put your trust into princes or knights or men for that matter. No one will save you or protect you. They will betray you—”   “I’m not a child anymore!”   “I know that.”   “You’re treating me like I am one.”   “Because you are acting like one.” You’re frustrated and angered beyond belief. No matter what you say, she doesn't listen. You feel like you’ve failed as a parent. “You don’t know anything about the world. You are terribly naive and hopeful and the world out there,” you spit the syllables out, finger coming to point out the window, “it will crush you.”   “M-mom…” She cries, face rippling into tears, mouth downturning, brows knitted together, choking out sobs.   “I don’t know who planted these ideas into your head, these ideas about love…” You whip yourself around, not sparing her another glance. “You are not to see him again, do you understand me? Now get to bed this instant.”   The door slams.   You’re hyperventilating on the other side, back pressed against the wall. You can hear her the sounds of her crying, leaking from the crack of the door. Your tough and stern façade crumbles. It morphs into anguish, anxiousness, doubt, fear. You don’t know what to do.   I love him.   Your worst nightmare has come alive.   //   It is silent between the two of you for the next few days that pass.   You refuse to talk any further on the subject. Riah gives you the cold shoulder. You put her on house arrest, supervising her closely and keeping an eye on the girl without allowing her to take one step outside. It’s drastic measures you’ve taken, but it’s for her own good.   She just doesn’t know it yet. But one day, she’ll thank you.   It’s your job as a mother to protect your child. You’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.   Though the anxiousness you have never dissipates even when you’ve gone this far. Your hair is standing on its end. A sea of goosebumps have never left your flesh. Your intuition still pricks the back of your mind. You spend more time in front of the mirror than you have in the past eighteen years, but it’s to make sure Jimin is safe and sound.   You never monitor him so intently before, though it makes you feel a bit better to see that he’s gotten to town without being harmed. You even catch him splurging on charcoal pencils, making you smile and prepare a lecture. But contrary to your instincts, nothing seems amiss.   You look to see if there’s a new prophecy. After all, you’ve single-handedly changed fate, freeing a child from the grips of death. Altering destiny can create calamity, but when you murmur a spell in front of the shimmering reflection, there is nothing. There are no prophecies. Only conjured images of a cozy cottage that’s been abandoned in the middle of a meadow.   A garden of flowers — Tulips. Daffodils. Carnations. Sunflowers. Lilies. Baby’s Breath.   It serves to confuse you more.   You haven’t grown flowers in decades.   “Riah.” You knock on her door, having given her more space to make her less upset. “Are you going to come for dinner or not? The food’s getting cold.”   There are thirty heartbeats of silence. You knock again.   “Nari, answer me right this instant.”   Nothing. You throw the door open. The windows are left slightly ajar, curtains blowing in the breeze. The ties you made around them are torn to the ground. But instead of the bed being empty like a few nights ago, she is here, sitting on the edge of it, back turned towards you.   “You left again?!” You go berserk, blowing a gasket in your brain, feeling blind sighted.   Yet, she ignores your rage, whispering, “When I was six...where did you bring me?”   “What?” You frown, wondering why she’s suddenly bringing this up. “What’s the matter?”   “Where did you bring me?” she repeats and turns away to face you, tears flooding her vision, hatred burning in her eyes.   “I—...don’t remember what you’re talking about.”   “You were going to leave me!” Her voice increases in volume into a yell and she gets onto her feet, unleashing her rage. “Why didn’t you?!”   You’re confused, in disbelief, mind turning numb. “You asked to stay.”   “Because I didn’t know any better!”   Her screams reverberate, hitting against your ear drums. There’s a moment of quiet.   “Where is this coming from, Riah?” you murmur, “Where did you go?”   “You lied to me,” she spits much to your horror, enunciating every syllable pointedly with a burden attached to them. “You really thought I wouldn't have found out? You really thought you could’ve hid it from me? I’m the lost princess. You...you were the witch that stole me away.”   Silence.   “It’s true, isn’t it?” The girl with the dark hair and doe eyes shakes her head, crying, but less in sorrow and more in angry betrayal. She asks as if you would tell her she’s mistaken. But you don’t say anything. The words have caught in your windpipe. He had told her — the prince or whomever she is meeting with must’ve spoken about this old tale haunting the kingdom. She must remember — you bringing her in front of the castle at six-years old, ready to let go, recalling your conversation with Jimin that she had eavesdropped in without knowing what was going on.   Whatever the case may be, she has grown old enough, smart enough to fit the puzzle pieces together. And you cannot deny the picture she has painted for you — lost princess stolen away by the evil witch.   “It’s true, isn’t it?!”   “Yes.”   Her sobs deepen, heart wrenching, agonizing, and she shakes her head, not wanting to believe it. “When….w-when were you planning to tell me?”   “I don’t know.”   “Were you planning on keeping it a secret forever?!”   “I….don’t know.” You take a step and she backs up into the corner. “Riah…”   “Don’t touch me!” Her eyes narrow, tone sharp, glaring at your monstrous appearance. “You’re disgusting.”   You’re at a loss, calling her name in vain.   “You kept me trapped here. You didn’t let me go outside farther than the forest. You stole me away from my parents!”   “I did it for your own protection—”   “From what?!” She shouts in hysterics, teeth gritted, jaw clenching. “I’m not your prisoner! You can’t manipulate me and lie to me! My entire life….my entire life is a lie!”   “I can explain.” You follow after her when she begins to walk away, putting a distance away from you when your presence is unbearable to her. “I did it to save your life. I had no other choice. You were going to die if it weren’t for me—”   She stops, twisting herself around. “Then you should’ve just let me die!”   “H-how could you say that?!”   “Did you really think you did this all for me? No. It was for you and your selfish wants.”   “Where are you going?” you beg her when she begins to pack her clothes, throwing open her wardrobe and grabbing her satchel in the corner, a birthday gift from Jimin from many years ago.   “Away from you!”   “I never trapped you,” you attempt to reason, feeling too helpless, doing anything you can to get her to stay. “I let you go free. I let you—”   Your daughter shoves you away, out of her proximity. When she faces you, there is only loathing and spite in her expression. “You stole me away from my mother.”   “You think that woman is your mother?” Against your will, tears begin to trickle down your hollowed cheekbones, through the twisting cracks of your reddened flesh. “I was the one who took care of you. I fed you. I clothed you. I bathed you. That woman is only your mother in name, only because she birthed you out. But it was me who did everything else. I was the one who raised you.”   “You stole me away from her!” She shrieks. “She never had a chance to raise me!”   “You are my daughter. And I love you. No one in this world can change that, not even you!”   “I am not your daughter! I don’t have a mother like you! You are nothing more than a witch.” The girl is bitter, stepping back, weeping into her palms, hair shielding away her face when she downcasts her head, refusing to look at you. “You took me away from what was supposed to be mine. The life I was supposed to have. You lied to me! You betrayed me.”   The silence is painful. When she brushes past you, your hand reaches out, grabbing hold of her hand. “You can’t leave. No, Riah, please!”   “Let go of me!”   “If you go with him, do you really think he’ll love you? He won’t.” You’ve seen what happens when people put too much hope in love. You don’t want her to turn into the mermaid who threw herself into the sea after being heartbroken. You don’t want her to become abandoned like you were.   So as she struggles against your hold, you plead with her to stay with you. You drop down to your knees, an iron grip holding her hand, begging her to stay, or at least until Jimin returns and he can get to her, more than you could ever be able to. “Riah...I love you.”   “You don’t!”   “I do. No one….no one can love you more than I do.” This child that you’ve raised for the past eighteen years, that you love so dearly, is a part of your family. You held her when she was an infant, held her when she became sick, brushed her hair, fed her, watched her take her first steps towards you. You will always love and protect this child of yours. “Please...don’t go.”   But she pries your dirty fingers off of you with disdain. “Watch me.”   The door slams shut as she takes another step — your magic lingering in the air.   You can’t let her go.   “I won’t let you leave. I...can’t.”   The door knob does not move. The satchel slides off her shoulder, thumping on the ground. She is trapped with four walls around her, bird in a cage, mouse underneath a box. Her hands lift into her hair, the dark strands filling the gaps between her fingers. She tugs on them and screams at the top of her lungs in suffocation. The girl cowers over, shrieking, blood-curdling at the back of her throat. The cries are more horrific than when you stole her away as a baby.   //   There is incessant banging on the surface of the door.   There are calls out to you, begging to be released. You pace, fragile teeth biting against your molded fingernails, not knowing what to do. If you open the door, she’ll leave, so you can’t. You don’t want to lose her. What you need is Jimin — he’ll know how to talk to her, how to get her to calm down, how to get her to understand.   You wait for him, but the stranger from nights ago comes wandering back, ignorant in his confident strides. Your daughter shouts for him, fists hitting against the window until her skin bruises blue. “I’m here! I’m up here!”   He doesn’t hear her.   Instead, the stranger stumbles back when you step into the sunlight. Your features appear like they’re melting off of your peeling face, eyes bulging out of their socket, mouth lopsided, nose hooked and crooked. Maggots are eating away at your decaying flesh, flaps of it hitting against your muscle tissue, like a snake halfway through shedding. The blisters and open sores are oozing of yellow pus, hair stark white and part of your scalp burnt, turned into shades of purple.   You’re disfigured and he is horrified with your face, sickened to his stomach when he looks at you. Scared. Hateful. Loathing. Nauseated. It’s now that you remember why you’ve isolated yourself, why people are never to be trusted, why your life has so much misfortune.   It’s people like him who made you suffer like this. People who don’t know you. People who don’t spare compassion or pity, even in the moments that you need it the most.   The young prince draws his silver sword. “Stand back, witch!”   “Leave!” Your hands fly into the air, bursts of light coming from your fingertips. You hiss at the man, chasing him away, “Leave! Don’t come back!”   “No!” Your daughter screams from her locked room. “NO!”   But you never curse him. You never use any spells or jinxes.   You simply scare him away, allowing him to stagger back into the forest like a coward. And when you return back, crying fills the abandoned castle that’s been your home for decades.   This is it.   You’re about to lose everything, everything you have created after being abandoned and left.   The home you’ve built and protected is now exposed to outsiders. The daughter you raised and love looks at you with eyes of loathing and hatred. It is silent — and you find yourself alone.   //   The news spreads like wildfire, out of your control. The man you chased away who is indeed a prince, gathers troops and guards to save Riah. Within a day, the rumours have spread that the girl is the lost princess, the lost daughter of the king and queen. It sparks enough hope after so many years of silence that Jungkook gathers his own army and sets out on this promising news. He leaves his wife behind, going to see for himself if the rumours are true or not.   They carry with them torches and swords, bows and arrows, riding on horses, marching through the forest. There are only so many protection spells and barriers you can put up. If your home is revealed and they know the path, they can walk straight through the shields, waltz into your home and spear you with their weapons once and for all.   Jimin catches wind of the town’s murmurs, of the awful witch who had cursed many, who cause people’s eyes to bleed when they look upon her, who ruthlessly kidnapped the child of the kingdom. And he comes running back. You’re sure he’s not going to make it on time, but as you watch him through the reflection of the mirror, you’re glad he’s out of the way.   At least you get to spare him from the tragedy that was to come.   You sit alone in the castle, putting on your mask to keep the last shreds of your dignity. Waiting as the troops advance forward. Waiting for the night to come.   You’ve accepted it. You’ve evaded death enough times and you’re glad that you fought for so long. If you hadn’t, you would’ve never had the opportunity to raise a child, to find so much happiness in someone who accepts you. It’s going to be perfect too. The lost princess will be saved by the prince who’s infatuated by her beauty. The evil witch who took her away will suffer the consequences and be killed.   It’ll be a happily ever after….   The door slams open as your eyes shut. “They’re here! They’re a few miles away!”   “Jimin?” You frown and he throws his body forward, grabbing your hand, forcing you to stand up on your feet again. “What are you doing here? I….I thought you were still far away.”   He looks around in panic. “Where’s Riah?”   “Jimin.”   “Where is she?” When you don’t say anything, he shakes you, hands gripping your shoulders. “Y/N! We need to go, right now!”   You hug him. You lean your weight forward, falling into his arms. Jimin staggers back onto his bad leg, instinctively coming to wrap his arms around you, cradling your frame. You hold him close to you, head on his shoulder, taking in his scent that reminds you of home.   “Riah wants to leave….I...I locked her in her room. They’re coming to save her.”   “What happened?” He catches his breath, heartbeat slowing.   “I don’t know, but you should go.” You swallow hard and release him from your grips, pushing him towards the door. “Thank you for staying with me for so long.”   “I’m not going anywhere.”   “Leave me here.” You turn away from him. “Go before they come.”   “Y/N. I’m not going.”   “LEAVE!”   The roar that escapes the pit of your stomach has the window trembling in their panes. The walls vibrate. The air shifts. But Jimin stands his ground, despite your wrathful command.   “I’m not going anywhere! Let….let me protect you.”   You break down into sobs. Jimin takes three wide strides and holds you again. He wraps himself securely around you, murmuring, “let me protect you this time.”   The two of you wait for them to arrive.   You stop running, reaping what you have sowed, taking the consequences of the crimes that you had committed, while Jimin remains by your side. Soon enough, the eerie silence is replaced by shouts and horses calling from the back. They’re confused by the empty clearing, but as they continue forward, they are stopped by an invisible barrier.   They notice the ripples of the shield, the way the air seems to billow and someone commands them to fight, to break it through sheer force.   Jimin turns and holds you by your shoulders, locking his eyes into yours. “I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t do anything and just stay here.”   You nod and he runs into another room. But with a deep breath, you go against his will. You have to protect her. With a wave of your hand, you allow the prince through. He stumbles past the barrier and despite his soldiers shouting at him not to go forth, he draws his sword and runs.   The prince bursts through the doors with ease and he stares at you, put on guard. “Stand back before I kill you!” You stare at the tip of his weapon, wondering what it’ll feel like to be impaled by it. “Where is she?!”   The barrier outside finally shatters. There are screams of the troops. You point to the room where the girl is still banging on the locked door. “There.”   He rushes over and kicks it down.   “Come on, let’s go!” He shouts at her, dragging her away with little regard for you.   “W-wait!” Riah cranes her head over, looking at you in distress, stare on yours.   But her prince tugs on her arm. “There’s no time!”   “I’m sorry for lying to you.” You watch as she gets pulled away and you gaze at her one last time. You remember — the rosy cheeks, button nose, gooey smile, cooing laugh. The bundle that you held in your arms, the infant that would always cry when you set her down.   The way she rolled over for the first time. The babbling. The crawling.   “Come on, Riah. Take one more bite for me! It’s good for you! It’s carrots! It’ll make you grow big and strong. Jimin won’t be happy if you don’t eat it. It took a lot of work for him to grow it.”   The toddler finally looks at you and points at your face. “Mama!”   The way he encouraged her softly and she lifted her arms off the chair, stumbling like a drunkard towards Jimin’s open arms, one leg in front of the other. “Yay! You did it!”   “Why is your face different from mine?” — “I didn’t always look like this. Aren’t you scared?” — “No. I’m not. Why would I be scared of my mama?”   “Where are we going?” — “Mom! Don’t go!” You remember how Riah cried, wailing as teardrops spilled down her cheeks like rain. She hiccuped and begged. She hanged onto you with all her might. Your daughter yelled out to you. “Don’t leave me!” — “Stay!”   And here you are. Finally. You are letting her go.   But she will always be your daughter that you love, that you will protect. “I love you.”   She is pulled away, out the door without a single word spoken to you. Gone.   Your hand lifts and the doors automatically lock. A few heartbeats later, soldiers are storming the castle, beating down the surface, causing the ceiling to crumble, the walls to shake. The horrible sounds of their destruction ricochet. You shut your eyes and ears until—   “It’s a dragon!”   There are ear-splitting screams. Through the window, you see the magnificent beast. Tangerine scales shimmer all over its body, breathing fire towards the troops, but never harming them, only scaring them away. The rumble of the ancient castle walls cause the mirror in your tucked away room to fall to the ground, shattering into pieces. The rest of your potions spill, glass rolling off the shelves and cracking into fragments.   The empty bottle that Jimin had drunk from bursts into sparkling particles, jewels he could never gift to you.   He fights, not backing down, and with an inhale, you gain his courage, calling upon a storm. Your feet are rooted into the floor, using any spells and jinxes to ward off the men. The windows break with the force of the whistling wind. The debris comes sweeping into your surroundings, a tornado that whips through the remains of your hair and clothing. The furniture of your home is flipped and damaged. The screams sing above the symphony of the pandemonium.   The castle is decaying. Your home is falling apart. You want it to stop.   The doors burst open and the soldiers scour every inch, searching to kill this evil witch and return their world back to peace.   “Enough!” you yell at the top of your lungs, above the winds, voice echoing through the hallways. “Jimin! That’s enough!”   You rip the mask off your face. The old white plastic falls to your feet. You gaze upon the destruction you’ve created, the sins you have committed in this lifetime.   “Stop. this.”   “Kill the witch!” — the soldiers shout at each other — “Kill the witch!” — they stalk the noise of your croaking cries — “Kill the witch!”   One of them finds you first. The victor of the witch hunt sees you, smiling triumphantly as they point their weapon at your defenseless body. And they shoot. The nose is deafening in your ears. The arrow fires, warbling the wind, twirling in the air. It punctures straight through your abdomen.   You gasp for air, stumbling back. Your head downcasts, looking down at the wound. Red stains your brown rags, seeping through your clothing, spreading like watercolour on a canvas. You wheeze.   “Y/N!” Jimin screams, coming through the window and morphing back into human form, feet touching the ground first, transformation reverting, billowing through his body. He limps towards you, catching your body in his arms as it falls.   He has become burnt all along his left side, leg dragged behind him, injured. The colour of carmine drips from his head, staining his skin and the ground beneath you. His head aches, vision fading, but he keeps his grip firm and secure.   “Stop!”   There is a familiar, smooth voice. A hand held in the air prevents the guards around from further attacking. Your neck cranes with the last of your energy and the corners of your mouth lift. He looks older than you remember, though some things never change. Even if the ashes from the battle have pressed into his skin, his dark hair, his brown doe eyes are the same. You missed him.   You missed his warm touch, the scent of the sea, the life you could’ve shared with him.   You missed it.   “It’s you again….”   His arm drops. He remembers.   It is difficult to speak when only shallow breaths can be taken. “J-Jungkook….”   Your home is falling apart. The castle is giving out, the last of its strength being tested. The fires on the roof and all around you is spreading. The warmth of those flames and their smoke are beginning to envelop you. The soldiers stay behind him, having stopped on his command.   Jungkook looks you in your eyes.   Your dying breaths dwindle. Jimin holds you close to him, tired of fighting.   You smile at Jungkook one last time. The corners of your mouth lifting with love and compassion. His sword drops in a clang. And his own lips fall, horrified. This time, it’s not because of your face, but finally, in your last moments, Jungkook finally realizes that it’s you.   You tilt your head up towards Jimin who’s still holding you, embracing your body.   “D...on’t….look...at...m..e...I’m...s-s….o…..ugly….”   “No, you aren’t.” He laughs softly and breathlessly, gazing at you with endearment, stroking your cheek with his hand. “You’re beautiful.”   You smile even wider than before. His hair shags down over his forehead, cheeks swelling with a gentle smile, eyes crinkled into half moons, cute giggles leaving through his throat even in such a situation. You are monstrous. In your life, people have made you suffer when all you wanted was someone to show you kindness, to understand your pain, to empathize.   And Jimin was that person for you.   He’s not the love of your life. Your soulmate. Your one true love.   But that doesn’t change the fact that you love him. You love him not because of any rush of infatuation or any monarch butterflies that have taken refuge in your stomach, not because of any spark that had ignited when you set your sights on him. You love him because he is here by your side, because he has always been here to help you, to support you, for you to lean on.   He had always chosen to stay with you. And you have always chosen to love him.   Your hand trembles as it lifts to hold his cheek and he reaches down, kissing you. It’s a soft brush of the lips, gentle and plush. He chokes out a soft laugh pulling away. It isn’t true love’s kiss. The spell is never broken. You’re still disfigured, but he doesn’t care. He sees far beneath it.   It is difficult to murmur on your dying breath. You are slumped to the ground, eyes piercing into his. You sob with the last of your diminishing energy, the scarlet hues spreading through your clothes and drenching them.   The winds howl and shriek. The leaves outside rustle to the hurricane, whispering their woes and eulogies of sympathy. Flowers rip from the ground, caught in the tornado, bouquets that act as a tribute to honour your memory. The universe bears witness, pandemonium acting as a prayer...   You whisper lowly, making your final curse out of sadness and happiness.   “F-for showing...a witch...so much...undeserving kindness….I curse you...Jimin...to be with me...forever….in an endless sleep….and in..dreams...live...the life...we’ve always wished for…”   He smiles. “It would be my greatest honour.”   There is a burst of light. The soldiers and Jungkook shields their eyes away, too pained to look at it. When the light diminishes, and they look back, sunspots and sparks dance around the room, flickering like fire, moving like fireflies. They weave through you and Jimin, eyes closed, both fallen asleep….   Finally at peace.

… ..   It’s a cozy cottage in the middle of the meadow.   Puffs leave the chimney, a fire crackling inside and keeping the modest and comfortable space toasty. On the outside, there are tulips, daffodils, carnations, lilies, baby’s breath. Seeds are sowed into the ground, waiting to see what is reaped, what blooms.   The lovely florals already rooted deep into the dirt are abundant in petals, rich in colour — pink, yellow, blue, indigo. They are pastels that are strong in hues before fading into a fainter shade in their teardrop shape. The soft fragrances cling onto clothing and bed sheets left hung on the clothesline.   The sunshine is beaming, weather warm and sky azure with the gentlest of breezes kissing against cheeks. It is peaceful, a feeling of contentment bursting through the dreamy atmosphere.   The door opens from the outside.   You’re returned to your old self again, eyes and ears as they should be, hair and skin no longer falling off your body. Even your voice is normal again, not the croaking sound that you weren’t familiar with. But you walk right past the shimmering mirror, not paying it any time of day.   “Jimin! You’re taking up too much space in the garden again!”   Your hands are on your hips, foot tapping in impatience. He’s halfway through eating his soup, sitting at the small round table by the glass windows halfway between the living room and the kitchen. He puts down his spoon. “What is it now, lady?”   “Your carrots are in the way of my tulips!”   “Why do you even plant tulips? We can’t eat them!”   “Flowers are prettier than your radishes,” you argue in a calmer voice, but your tolerance is running thin. “If your garden was just full of your plants, it would just look like shrubs.”   But of course the boy has to sass you back, “if our garden was full of your flowers, we would have nothing to eat.”   “Hey!”   He stands up from his seat with a grin all too amused with the banter and he approached slyly to wrap his arms around your waist. He is not injured, no bad leg or hunched back, no scar twisting up the side of his body. Jimin is healthy as can be and looks less like a henchman and more like your aggravating, stupid husband.   “Fine, fine. I’m sorry, alright?” Jimin plants a kiss on the tip of your nose, his softened gaze dripping of endearment. “Next time, I won’t plant so many carrots. But lower your voice, okay? Or else you’re going to wake up our baby and I just put him down for a nap.”   You pout, giving in. “Fine.”   “That’s my good girl.”   “Psh.” Your hand reaches down, taking his hand and he wears an idiotic grin, happily lacing his fingers through yours. There’s not a single regret he has on being here, being with you like this. And you don’t have a worry that he wants to be somewhere else, that he will leave. “I love you.”   “About time,” he teases. “I know I’m charming, but you were really starting to worry me there with how long it was taking for that confession.”   You scoff, moving to elbow his stomach, but he avoids it swiftly with a laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”   Jimin hums, quirking his head to the side. “I love you too.”   “You better. We have a kid together.”   He giggles and when your banters subside, your head is rested on his shoulder, his arms around your torso. You both stare out the window to the flourishing garden. It’s beautiful and a serene sight and you could relish in this moment endlessly.   It doesn’t matter what you look like. Jimin will be by your side, a comforting presence, someone to lean on, even if he annoys you like crazy sometimes. And it doesn’t matter what he looks like to you, bad leg or no bad leg. As long as you’re together, this place is your heaven.   “Jimin…”   “Hmm?”   “Did you fix that hole in the roof yet? The one that’s been leaking water into the bathroom.”   “......oops.”   “Jimin!” You laugh and he giggles sheepishly.   This is what it should have been. No magic. No curses. It’s plain and mundane, but this is all you could have wished for.   This is your fairy tale ending.

[purpletigertaetae]

The Transfiguration Tutor

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 4307 words

Genre: Hogwarts AU, Slice of Life (as “life” as you can get in an AU) Fluff

Rating: PG

Warnings: None, I mean there's a lot of fluff, but not really any warnings

Notes: Okay, I’ve jumped out of my comfort zone SO MUCH with this fic (and this header that I made in like 0.2 seconds because I’m dumb and couldn't find anything I liked) Like I already don’t fluff well (If we’re being honest I don’t write anything well 😂), but this added Potterverse into the mix, which just GAH. This was actually supposed to be a oneshot for Namjoon’s birthday, but I’m so late I can't even use that excuse anymore. I’m so nervous typing this... But Enjoy! I hope you all like it! Also PLEASE GO CHECK OUT @thebluesyren‘s Moodboard! It’s what helped inspire this!

You stared curiously at the Ravenclaw prefect sitting in the library. His silvery hair parted carefully on the side, his thick rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and his thick lips twisted into a wry smile as he poured over his Charms textbook while twirling his quill over and over in his hand. You had been trying to work on your Potions essay until you saw Namjoon enter the library. You had carefully watched his every move while he gracefully maneuvered across the haphazard chairs and desks to find an empty corner. You watched as he approached the empty desk only to trip over his own two feet. He had smacked his hand on the desk to steady himself but had slipped some more, let out a stream of curses, and then he was lying on the floor his books around him; the ruckus causing everyone around him to giggle.

“Shh!” Madame Pince huffed from her desk, irritated by the noise.

Namjoon had stood up, brushed and smoothed his robes, sent a dimpled smile towards Madame Pince, and gathered his books to sit back down.

That was an hour ago. You had given up on your homework completely, doodling on extra parchment while staring at the clumsy genius. Slughorn would have to wait.

So, this was the boy who was supposed to tutor you in Transfiguration. Your grades, while stellar in every other class, were slipping in McGonagall’s class and she had worried you would not pass your final exams this year. She had told you to seek out a Kim Namjoon, well rather she had gushed over a Kim Namjoon and had told you to ask him for help.

“Kim Namjoon has the highest grades of this year. He will go far. You on the other hand, Miss Y/L/N, will need to improve drastically if you wish to continue on your path as a healer. You will need tutoring in transfiguration. And my recommendation is, you should ask Mr. Kim for help.” From McGonagall, that was high praise, and cause to worry on your end. You had decided that today would be the day you would talk to Namjoon, but you had been in the library for two hours, he for one, and still you were afraid to approach the handsome boy you were slowly getting softer for.

---

Three hours later and you literally had finished every essay due for the upcoming week except transfiguration. Namjoon, however, still seemed stuck on Charms. You looked at his face, forehead wrinkled in confusion, and decided that maybe you could strike up a deal.

You packed all your things and made your way over to his table.

“Namjoon right?” The boy looked up at you, confusion evident over his face. “Hi, I’m Y/N? Professor McGonagall told me to find you for some transfiguration help?”

His striking features smoothed out and a dimpled smile graced his face. “Hi Y/n. Yeah, McGonagall had talked to me, but uh, now isn’t a great time. I’m still struggling with the Charms homework.”

“Oh, is this the cheering charms essay? Here, let me see if I can help you!” You slid into the seat next to him, dropping your bag and books onto the table, while peering over his shoulder.

You carefully pointed out all of the information he had gotten wrong and explained the theory to him. Namjoon just watched you, eyeing you as you spoke, pointing to different passages in the textbook; your striking features looked lovely in the candlelight. Your eyes sparkled as you explained a particular passage to him. Your lips looked soft, and he caught himself wondering if that was true. Was he maybe falling for the intelligent woman sitting next to him?

“Earth to Namjoon? Namjoon? Namjoon!” He snapped out of his daydreams and looked at you, “Yes?”

“Did you get anything I told you?”

“Uhhh,” He scratched the back of his head, grinning sheepishly.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly and sighed, “Namjoon, you’re going to have to pay more attention! Now focus!”

“Wait, y/n,” he placed his hand on your forearm, stopping your writing, “Why don’t we become study buddies?”

“What?”

“Well, think about it. You need help for Transfiguration and I definitely need help with Charms. How about we help each other?” Namjoon leaned back against his chair and looked you dead on, a small smile playing on his face.

You examined the boy in front of you and then the empty parchment that was meant for the transfiguration essay you hadn’t even started. You definitely needed help, and you wanted a way to repay him. Helping him with Charms would be the ideal way, and maybe you could even become closer friends.

“It’s a deal.” You thrusted your arm out and shook to seal the deal.

Namjoon sat up and grabbed his quill again, rifling through the textbook to find where he last left off.

“Great! Can we finish Charms first and then go onto Transfiguration? I haven’t started Transfig yet so we can work together!” Namjoon started rambling, but you cut him off swiftly.  

“That’s fine, but I’m warning you. If we’re stuck here all night, you owe me a butterbeer!”

Namjoon looked at you and grinned, “Deal. So, I understand the incantation for the cheering charm, but I definitely am confused on the theory and execution.”

You sighed deeply and then dove in. This was going to be a long night.

---

Four hours later and finally you both closed your books and leaned back in your chairs, resting your eyes.

With your eyes still closed you asked, “What is the effect when the Cheering Charm is too strong?”

Namjoon replied huskily, “Fits of hysterical laughter. What is the incantation to conjure a flock of yellow birds?”

“Avis, and a gunshot sound and smoke are aftereffects of the spell.”

“By Merlin, I think she’s got it!” Namjoon cracked open an eye and sent a genuine dimpled smile your way.

“Well, I’ve got the theory down for sure, but I’m going to need help with execution-”

“Now? Y/N… I’m tired!”

“No, not now. I’m wiped, but tomorrow? After dinner? We can find an empty classroom.”

“That sounds like a plan!”

You sat up and started packing up your bag, Namjoon copying your actions.

You both left the library, some of the last ones to leave, said goodbye to Madame Pince and started strolling back to the Ravenclaw tower in a comfortable silence.

As you climbed the stairs, Namjoon broke the silence.

“Y/n, you excel in all your other classes, why do you struggle in Transfig? Not that I’m judging or anything! I’m just curious.” He began scrambling in fear of having offended you.

You laughed at his expression, and then spoke, “I don’t know, to be honest. Defense, Herbology, Charms all came easy to me. Transfiguration doesn’t. It requires a type of concentration I just don’t have.”

Namjoon looked at you thoughtfully.

“I can understand that. Charms requires a sense of certainty, a sense of grace that I definitely have not acquired,” he spoke as he tripped over his own two feet.

“See what I mean!”

You chuckled as you approached the Common Room entrance. You slipped in and noticed that it was basically empty, just three students snoozing near the fire.

You both climbed the stairs and then stopped right before you were to go separate ways.

“Good night Y/N. Thank you for helping me.”

“Ditto, good night… Joon.”

Namjoon turned to make his way to his room, cheeks bright red. You had called him Joon. Only close friends had called him Joon. He looked over his shoulder at your retreating figure and mused. That name coming from you had sounded so sweet. He really wanted to hear it again.

You turned and walked to your room blushing hard. Joon? Where had that come from? The boy was endearing, and you definitely were soft for him, but this was uncharted territory. Though… he was a gentleman and one you really wanted to get to know better. Who knew, maybe this would be the start of a beautiful friendship. You shook your head and got ready for bed. This would be a thought for another time.

--

Namjoon and you continued your joint tutoring together for the next couple of months. You saw each other so often that a friendship began to blossom. You would talk late into the night, discussing your aspirations as a healer and his aspirations to become part of the Ministry. Most of the time you even joined him for his rounds; his partner always “forgot” though you both knew she was always with her boyfriend. Your blood boiled but Joon would always shrug it off with a smile, “it’s nothing I can’t do Y/Nie, though you’re welcome to join me.” You two would roam the castle, ending up in the astronomy tower and gazing at the stars before walking back to your dormitories. Rumors began swirling about the two Ravenclaws in love, but you both remained oblivious and ignorant. People could think however they wanted.

As you both approached your final exams, you began spending even more time together; his friends became yours and your friends became his, until one large group sat together for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was a mixed group; his friends were spread into all the houses: two in Gryffindor, two in Hufflepuff and two in Slytherin. But they all got along, and they definitely were a band of brothers that soon became your closest friends.

The last Hogsmeade trip, was right around the corner, right after exams. Namjoon had wanted to go with you for the longest time, but every time he would chicken out and everyone ended up going as a big friend group. This time though, he was adamant to spend some time with you. He caught up with you as you walked back from the Herbology greenhouses to lunch.

“Hey Y/nie!”

“Hey Joon! What’s up?”

“I have to run, but will you come on rounds with me tonight? I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure!” With your confirmation, he ran off, leaving you confused. What did he want to ask? You worried that maybe he was doing well in Charms and didn’t need your help anymore. You worried in your classes, when he sat next to you but wouldn’t talk to you; you worried at dinner, where he was noticeably absent; you worried up until you met him in the common room for rounds. He ushered you out and into the corridor and you both began walking. Usually the silence between you two was comfortable as you walked, but today it was suffocatingly uncomfortable until you burst out.

“Kim Namjoon if you don’t ask me what you’ve been wanting to ask me soon, I will kill you!”

“Y/n just be patient. I’ll ask you soon.”

“Do you not want to help me anymore? Do you not need my help anymore? Do you not want to study together anymore? Do you not want to be friends anymore? What is it?! Please! Let’s just work together until our exams are over and then I promise I’ll be out of your hair! Can you just tell me what you wanted to ask?!” Your voice grew more and more agitated as you continued on and on until you ran out of breath. Namjoon beside you just remained quiet with a small smile on his face.

God, you were so cute when you were angry.

He waited patiently until you finished your tirade, walking and observing quietly. When you quieted down, he spoke.

“Are you finished? Calm down Y/Nie, I still want to help you with Transfig, and I definitely still need your help in Charms. I don’t intend to fail my exams and I don’t intend for you to fail yours. We’re still friends! And… oh look we’re at the Astronomy Tower! Let’s quickly take a look and then we can continue this conversation.”

You stared at him dumbfounded as he ran forward. He was about ask you something. Why on earth did he stop? Ugh, he was infuriating sometimes.

You marched up the stairs behind him ready to chew him out until you saw him looking out on the balcony. When you laid your eyes on him, your eyes widened and you audibly gasped. He looked ethereal. The moonlight made him glow, bouncing off of his skin as he stared into the sky. The stars were mirrored in his eyes and his hair shone like silver; he really was stunning. He turned back to you and beckoned you forward with his hand, patting the railing next to him. You walked up to him and looked up at the night sky and whispered, “Beautiful.”

You could’ve sworn he said, “you too.” But when you turned to him, he was still looking up, admiring the sky. For what seemed like eternity, you both were silent, admiring the swirling stars twinkling merrily.

Every now and then you would glance over to him, wanting to break the silence, but his beauty would take your breath away again and you would look back up, not wanting to ruin the moment. Finally, you lost patience and broke the hushed silence to whisper, “Joon, what did you want to ask me?”

He looked down at you. His expression filled with something you hadn’t seen before. Was it love? Unbeknownst to you, you were mirroring the expression back at him. His tongue flitted out, wetting his lips, and your eyes flickered down to the movement, admiring the curve of his lips. Your eyes flicked back to his, as he cleared his throat, and his eyes flitted down to your lips as he leaned forward slightly. You tried to say something, but your breath got caught in your throat as you looked up at him. You hoped for something, anything to break this spell, but in this moment, you wanted to test the softness of his lips with yours. You wanted to feel his hands resting on your hips, not on the railing. You wanted him to bare his soul to you and you wanted to bare your soul to him. Maybe, just maybe you were falling in love with him, your moonchild. He opened his mouth to speak and suddenly you were afraid of what he might say. Your stomach filled with butterflies as this handsome man began to speak.

“Y/N, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me after exams. You know I really need to buy some new robes and I could use a friend’s eye.”

Your heart, which had been somewhere in your throat, instantly sank like a rock. He what? He made it very clear in that moment that he considered you just a friend. All of this, baring your soul, the environment, the moon, the stars, the whole thing you had made up. He was just admiring the stars like he always did, and your imagination was running wild again. You tried to rearrange your face into a friendly expression, trying not to betray the heartbroken mess you felt inside. “Sure! I’d love to help you!” Your voice caught in your throat, but you shoved your feelings away and cleared it a couple of times, swallowing the lump thickly.

“Joon, it’s late, I’m tired, I think I’m going to head back. I’ll see you tomorrow?” You turned and left, trying to keep your tears at bay until you found your bed.

Namjoon, on the other hand, couldn’t stop cursing himself. The timing was perfect, the atmosphere was perfect! He could’ve kissed you and everything would have been perfect! But his bloody brain spoke again. He chickened out! He mentally slapped himself. He would have to do better. God, he had wanted to kiss you, you had looked like an angel in the moonlight. He mentally cursed again. He should’ve just stopped at asking you to Hogsmeade after exams. What possessed him to say friend? He clutched at his hair in despair and looked back up at the sky one last time. The stars still glinted, and Namjoon knew that this had been the perfect moment. Argh, stupid brain, stupid mouth, stupid Joon. He turned away from the balcony and trudged back to the common room, feeling sorry for himself. He needed to figure out a way to see this through properly. You and he belonged together, that he was sure about. He just needed to grow some courage and ask you out.

--

After that night, the entire group knew something was wrong. On the surface, you and Namjoon still studied together, still hung out together, but the dynamic had changed. It was as if you both were toeing on eggshells around each other. However, final exams were fast approaching and the time to think about relationships was gone. Everyone had decided to grace the library with their presence and the careful silence was broken too often. You and Namjoon were always left searching for an empty classroom to study both theory and practical applications. Your first exam was Transfiguration and Namjoon’s first exam was Charms. Needless to say, both of your nerves had been shot. You both had attempted to stay up late the night before, hoping to cram, but by eleven, you knew that you needed sleep. Namjoon and you had called it a night and decided to try to get some rest for tomorrow.

You tossed and turned in bed that night, unable to calm your racing nerves. If you failed this exam, you were done. If you got anything lower than an Exceeds Expectations, you could kiss your Healer dreams goodbye. Plus, there was the issue of Namjoon. You definitely did not want to let him down. He had spent countless hours tutoring you, becoming your friend, and maybe more. How would you face him if you failed? You turned over and watched the clock on your bedside table tick over and over, the repetition providing relief to your otherwise churning thoughts. Watching the clock, you finally fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning you were up at the crack of dawn. You dressed quickly and found your way down to your favorite abandoned classroom. That’s where Namjoon found you over an hour later pacing back and forth, mumbling transfiguration incantations to yourself under your breath.

“Y/N!” He grabbed you by the shoulders and peered into your eyes.

You were jolted out of your fervor, “Namjoon? What are you doing here?”

“Hobi told me you were here working yourself up! Y/N I need you to stop worrying!”

“Stop worrying? How do I do that? This is the Transfig final! If I don’t pass this, I’m done! There goes everything, my healer dream, all that we’ve worked for! I’ll have wasted your time too! I just…” You rambled on and on without even a breath. Watching you, Namjoon’s eyes widened.

“Baby, hey no! No!” He pulled you into his chest into a tight hug and kissed the top of your head. Somewhere within you, butterflies erupted again. He was holding you awfully close.

“Y/nie, you are brilliant, you know this material and I know you’re going to ace this exam. You hear me?” You snuggled into his chest further, nodding tentatively at his words. He rubbed your back comfortingly and peppered your crown with kisses. “You are my intelligent, gorgeous, brilliant girl and I know you will achieve all your dreams.” Namjoon softly spoke sweet nothings into your head while you calmed down from your impending panic attack in his arms.

Something, though, niggled in the back of your mind. Did he… did he call you his girl? What did that mean? You wanted to dissect his words further, but the great clock chimed 8:00 and you knew you had to assemble for your exam. You tensed at the gong, pulled away from Namjoon, smoothed your hair and patted down your clothes with shaky hands trying to calm your nerves.

“Y/N you are going to do great, you hear me?”

“Thank you Joon. Good luck to you too.”

Namjoon caught your hand in his and you both walked, in silence, to the Great Hall where you were then separated. Namjoon would take his Charms theory and practical exam first while you would take your Transfiguration theory and practical exam. You two would meet up again at lunch.

As you entered the side room, your eye caught Namjoon’s one last time. He shot you a thumbs up, which filled you with hope and you gave him a silly grin back. At the silly exchange your heart lifted and you, for the first time, felt confidence lightly flutter through you. You might just pass this exam.

Once you were seated and the exam had been passed out, you took a deep breath and flipped over the paper. Question 1: What is the incantation to conjure a small flock of yellow birds? Please state and describe the aftereffects. You grinned, remembering back to your first meeting with Namjoon and began furiously writing.

-

You came away from the theory exam feeling pretty good, albeit a little confused. Every question you had answered you could remember Namjoon’s deep voice patiently explaining and reexplaining. For some, you could even see Namjoon’s face in your head smiling that dimpled smile at you, his loud laugh when you cracked a joke. Namjoon had permeated this exam for you and his personality had maybe gifted you with the correct answers.

When your test group regathered, it was time for the practical exam. There were 15 booths set up, each with their own examination proctor. The proctor would ask questions and you would have to execute the spell. When you entered your booth, you were faced with a wizened old woman who introduced herself as your  examiner.

“Hello Miss Y/L/N, I will be your proctor for today. My name is Professor Caldwell. Are you ready?” You nodded, gulping nervously. “Then, let us begin. First, can you conjure this cup into a small dragon?”

You let out a small laugh, remembering how you had learned the spell in the first place. Namjoon had dragged a chest in to the classroom thinking that the bigger the object the easier it would be for you to conjure. However, you had ended up chasing a relatively large dragon around the classroom while Namjoon tried and failed to put out the fire on his robes. Shaking your head, you cast the spell, “Draconifors!” and the quill began to change. Smiling, the proctor looked at you and continued on. You attempted spell after spell, only stumbling once or twice until Professor Caldwell placed her test papers next to her and stood up to shake your hand warmly. “Congratulations, Miss Y/L/N, you have completed the test.” You looked into her warm brown eyes, edges wrinkled with smile lines, and hesitated.

“Miss Y/L/N? Do you have any questions for me?”

“I- uh, Yes, I do. But I am not sure you can answer.”

“Go ahead, and I will make that judgement myself.”

“How-,” Your voice came out squeaky with nerves. You cleared it and started again. “How did I do? Did I pass?”

“Well, Miss Y/L/N, I’m technically not supposed to answer that, but on my end, you’ve definitely passed. Barring your theory score, I’d give you an Outstanding for the spell work you have shown me today. Congratulations!”

At her words, your heart soared, and the widest grin spread across your face. You shook her hand tightly, thanking her profusely and raced out into the Entrance Hall, looking for Namjoon.

As you pushed past the throng of people, you both locked eyes and before you knew it, you were sprinting to him. People around you parted as you rushed up to him breathlessly. Instinctively, his arms opened, and you threw yourself into them, jumping up to hug him. You placed both hands around his broad, his wide smile calming your racing heart, as his arms came around you and caught your thighs, holding you up while you wrapped your legs around him in a bear hug. He laughingly set you down after hugging, “So I’m guessing that the exam went well? Mine went really well!”

“It went amazingly well.” You grabbed both his hands and looked up into his eyes, happiness overflowing your being. He started to pull away, but you stopped him. “Wait, one second,” He looked at you confused, and you giggled, “There’s something I want to try.”

With that you leaned up on the tips of your toes and pressed a featherlight kiss to Namjoon’s soft lips. As you left his lips, you whispered, “Thank you. For everything.” You turned to leave, but Namjoon tugged your arm back into his embrace, and pushed his lips back on yours. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding and wrapped your arms around his neck while his hands slid around your waist as he deepened the kiss, throwing all his emotions into it. Your soft lips melded together, as if finally meeting. After what seemed like an eternity, you two separated and leaned your heads against each other, caught in your own little bubble, until…

“Finally!” Yoongi and the rest of your group let out cheers and then the entire Entrance Hall was clapping. Joon and you turned bright red, and you hid your head in his chest, embarrassed by the attention. Namjoon let out his barking laugh and kissed the top of your head. “Jagi, I need to ask you something, and this time I refuse to mess it up. Go to Hogsmeade with me?” You nodded enthusiastically, still smiling widely and Joon caught your hand tightly and brought you in for another kiss. Turns out finding a tutor for Transfiguration really did help you.

A/N: ITS SO LONG, I’M STILL NERVOUS ABOUT THAT. God, I gotta get better at writing. Lemme know what you think. And Back and Forth isn’t done, I’m just lazy about updating. I promise I will update that soon!

[lqkoko]

[ghostsbunnii]

Absolutely breathtaking

[readyplayerhobi]

Queen of Ice | 03

; Bodyguard!Jungkook x Princess!Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst

; Synopsis: Jeon Jungkook is the best water magic user of his generation, so it made sense that he was given the prestigious posting as a royal bodyguard. His position puts him close to you, the Crown Princess of Sejong and the only ice magic user in history. Jungkook is great at protecting you from danger, but not so much at protecting his own heart.

; A/N: Another drabble for you :D I’m not putting word counts on these, purely because they’re just short drabble length anyways!

; Previous - Next

-

“Your Majesty, you look beautiful.” The prince from Jeju, whom you’d sworn not to entertain, was standing in front of you with a low bow. Jungkook wasn’t sure if he was purposefully smirking or if it was just the small tendrils of jealousy in Jungkook’s heart that was making him see that.

Either way, he wasn’t happy to see the prince. Not only was the Jeju kingdom prosperous and strong, but their prince was almost disgustingly handsome. He was tall, his gait elegant and movements precise. Jungkook could imagine his air magic was equally as graceful, which just made him dislike the man even more.

It didn’t help that Prince Seokjin was everything that made a perfect prince. Well-spoken, knowledgeable, and with a perfect bloodline. He’d been nothing but polite since his arrival and it aggravated Jungkook that he was too perfect.

“It’s Your Highness, not Your Majesty. I’m not the queen. Not yet, at least.” You responded, your voice as cold and hard as your expression. Prince Seokjin was taken aback by your words, jerking back slightly as his eyes widened slightly. But he’s been too well trained to let your words cut him and he gives a small smile of apology.

“Your Highness, of course. My statement still stands though, your beauty is as effortless as the cherry blossoms that bloom in the springtime.” It takes everything in Jungkook not to gag at the saccharine words, though he does give a glance over to Hoseok who stands at his right. The older man catches his look and gives a subtle roll of his eyes in agreement.

“How...nice,” You falter for a moment, trying to find a word that doesn’t sound condescending, though Jungkook is pretty sure that you failed. “You are...gifted with words.”

The quiet snort comes from Hoseok, who looks mildly mortified as everyone’s attention turns to him momentarily. Cheeks reddening, he bows his head in apology to his princess and the prince. Thankfully, no one says anything about the blatant break in the protocol by the bodyguard and Jungkook is thankful for his friend’s sake.

“Will you walk with me, Your Highness? I hear your gardens are beautiful.” Prince Seokjin says, offering his arm to you with grace. His robes sway gently with the movement, their colours vibrant and beautiful in the mid-morning sun. The colours are symbolic of Jeju, the rich azure blue reflecting the glimmering blue ocean and the creamy white of the tangerine blossoms winding their way through the blue in delicate designs.

It’s a stark contrast from the black and gold that makes up your robes, the black trousers that hug your legs painted with their golden decorations. You look the complete opposite of Prince Seokjin, so dark compared to the lightness of him. A small, petty part of Jungkook notes that you don’t look good together. Like two pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit, the overall image is perfect but that one section looking wrong.

Whether that’s true or it’s just Jungkook, he doesn’t know. 

Twisting your lips slightly, you flick your eyes over the foreign prince and hum lightly. Finally, you turn swiftly and begin to walk in the direction of the gardens. A flick of your fingers over your shoulder indicates to those behind to follow, but you vocalise it as well just in case.

“Come. Let us satiate your interest in our oh-so-famous gardens.” Prince Seokjin falters once more, his brow furrowing in frustration at your constant unwillingness to follow royal protocols. He glances at his people, whose red faces are more from anger and irritation at the rudeness with which their prince has been treated. 

The prince says nothing though, simply striding on his long legs to catch up to you. Jungkook and Hoseok are already on the move anyway, especially wary with the new arrivals. Who knows what they really intend to do, perhaps they do want their prince to woo his princess or maybe they want to engage in a coup.

Though it would be especially stupid of them to try that, so far from their kingdom. There was no way they could hope to keep this kingdom, but Jungkook knew that he was getting way ahead of himself.

“How was the journey here, Prince Seokjin? I do apologise for you spending so long to get here for no reason but I hope you can at least enjoy the hospitality of our kingdom whilst you stay.” There’s an awkward silence after you finish, only the sound of boots and shoes on the floor of the marbled corridor. Even Jungkook is surprised at how blunt you’ve just been, but he shouldn’t be surprised.

Your shoulders are tense beneath your robes and Jungkook knows that you’re furious with your father. There’s no doubt that after this meeting, you’ll be storming into your father’s office and there will be an argument that could level a small hamlet. Jungkook would have to recuse himself from that meeting, as there’s no way that your father would accept his presence after what he’d done the last time. Hoseok would have to go in.

“Er, I’m sorry, what? What do you mean for no reason? I’m here to discuss a potential marriage contract with you, as your father requested. I was not aware you did not know?” He sounds hesitant for once and a little insecure. Even Jungkook feels a little sorry for him at that moment. You can certainly be a force to be reckoned with when you want to be and he wonders if Prince Seokjin truly knows about your cold reputation. You’re being positively nice right now.

“I was aware of it, but I had told my father that I had no intention of courting a potential marriage. I had explicitly told him that I would not be marrying you or anyone else right now. It would seem my father ignored my wishes, once more. So I will grant you the hospitality of our castle and kingdom, but I will not contend with any talk of marriage, is that understood?” You sweep through the doors to the gardens at that.

The gardens had been created by some long-dead ancestor of yours and they were maintained by some of the finest plant and earth magic users in the kingdom. It meant that they were an explosion of colour at all seasons, ranging from the most vibrant violets to the prettiest pinks and beautiful blues. 

Jungkook loved to spend his free time here, simply breathing in all the floral scents and feeling at once with himself. Sometimes he’d even create a delicate mist to let them have some extra water, encouraging them to grow stronger than ever. It irritated him that he had to share his favourite place with this prince.

It’s clear though that Prince Seokjin doesn’t quite know how to respond to your firm words, so he does the diplomatic thing and instead smiles at the large gardens.

“These are certainly impressive gardens, I can see that many years of work have gone into them,” He pauses then, looking a little awkward and Jungkook almost feels sorry for the man. “You know, I am quite tired after the trip. I apologise for cutting this short but I think I will retire to my quarters and rest before the banquet tonight. I want to be at my best before meeting the king. It was lovely to meet you, Your Highness.”

The words are very careful and Jungkook isn’t too sure what to make of how he talks to you but decides to let it go. It’s clear that Prince Seokjin isn’t too sure of what to do with when faced with the impenetrable ice fortress that was you and defeat was the better option than trying to break through right now.

“And you, Your Highness. I hope you get a good rest and I will see you later.” 

With that, you turn around and head further into the gardens. Jungkook spares a glance to the stunned prince before following close behind. You may have been the perfect example of a frozen princess, but Jungkook knew that you were anything but beneath that frosty disposition. Inside, you were burning with anger and fury.

A soft touch on his arm causes him to look to the side, catching Hoseok’s serious look. With a subtle nod towards you, Hoseok tells him everything he needs to know and Jungkook nods in turn. Automatically, Hoseok begins to drop back to give them space.

Giving the garden a quick once over, Jungkook moves closer than is normally deemed acceptable for the princess. But you don’t flinch, nor do anything to indicate you’re uncomfortable with his close presence.

“Are you okay, Your Highness?” He asks, lowering his voice even though there’s no one but Hoseok and the plants to hear him. It’s a perfectly logical question for a bodyguard to ask his charge, but there’s something underneath his professional demeanour.

He wonders if you can tell, or if you even care given your clear refusal to entertain any form of romance. Perhaps that’s why he feels so strongly for you, maybe it’s his way of protecting his heart. You were unreachable for someone like him and he’d always be around you in some form, so it was harmless, surely.

And yet, you don’t react how he expects. 

The two of you stand in front of the elegant pool that’s situated in the centre of the garden, the surface covered in lily pads with blooming flowers. It’s his favourite place in the whole garden, the water calling him so strongly here. He knows it’s your favourite place too.

“No, I am angry at my father and embarrassed to be put on the spot like that. How dare he do that. I told him no, I said it many times and yet again, he goes and ignores my wishes. He refuses to see that I am an adult, a grown woman with her wishes and demands yet he treats me like a child. Or worse yet, like I’m nothing.” Venom laces your words and Jungkook wonders whether he should feel honoured to experience your true emotions.

They may call you the queen of ice, but people often forget that ice burns just as easily as fire.

“I’m...sorry. I can’t even imagine how uncomfortable a situation this must be for you, Your Highness.” He murmurs, not entirely sure of how to talk to you. Whilst it may be his job to protect you, it wasn’t his job to talk to you. This was new territory for him.

You sigh deeply, letting your head fall forwards as your shoulders deflate. For the first time, he doesn’t see you as the strong and proud woman that you always were.

“Please, none of the highness stuff right now. I just...I need a friend right now. And not a friend who wants something out of me.” He’s not quite sure what to do or say, his brow furrowing as he tries to figure out what his next move was. There had been no training about what to do in cases like this.

“I’m not someone who wants something from you, but I am someone who is required to protect you with my life. I’m not sure that qualifies me as a...friend.” The statement falls flat and he swallows hard. Nothing that had happened today had been expected and he was sure that you were just as confused as he was.

“It’s the closest I have, so that’s good enough for me.” You don’t say anything else, instead just staring at the colourful fish that dart up to the surface of the pond. Jungkook chooses not to interrupt the silence, instead just letting you have your moment of deep contemplation whilst he wonders.

He wonders how easily people have misjudged you. They thought you were cold when you burned warm, they thought you had a perfect life whilst you fought with your father at every step.

Would they really be jealous to know that you had no voice in your future? That you had a life of luxury and riches but you didn’t even have a true friend and instead had to resort to calling your bodyguard your closest friend.

Tracing his eyes over you, he twists his lips and wishes he could do more to help. To be able to hold you and comfort you, give you the warmth that you’d been denied for so long.

But he’s just a bodyguard, and you’re the crown princess.

[kookiecrumb]

jjk|| Your Head

"tags": @kazthebrekkerofinej

word count: uhhhh

summary: Jungkook is the heir to the throne of your Kingdom! In this tale of duty versus heart, will love prevail victorious?

tags: Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader, oneshot, smut, fluff, slight angst, some crack, pining, forbidden lovers, Jungkookie has a sweet tooth, strangers to friends to lovers

warnings: explicit language, impact play, birthday sex (technically), fingering, oral (m receiving*), love marking, alcohol consumption, s&m themes, horny grinding, praise kink/body worship

a/n:

hey guys!

Firstly, I want to say how proud I am of myself for growing so much during this fic. I learned a lot about what I'm comfortable with, what I'd like to work on, and where my confidences lie.

I won't lie and say it's been easy, because writing this meant dealing with a lot of my fears? I'm excited for all the works that are to come.

The only thing I can do is be as receptive to growth as possible, so I'm looking forward to learning...

*I actually learned that Vaseline wasn't invented until like the 1870s? The fic is written in the 1810s, so I actually had a choice between having them do it with vegetable oil or spit. Spit won.

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5 years ago

You bend over to pick up an apple that had rolled over under your father's produce cart, praying that it isn't bruised so that you have to pay for it out of your dinner, when a crumpled piece of paper hits you in the ass.

Confused, you crawl out from under the stand and unwrap the paper.

The paper itself is of the finest quality you've ever seen. It's a sturdy cardstock, bleached white with gold etchings on the borders. The print on the top of it reads "His Highness Jeon's Royal Study," and scribbled in some kid's amateur cursive below, "Nice butt."

You directed your gaze upwards, towards the towering castle walls. Sure enough, a boy no older than 15 had his noggin popping out from the top of the rampart, with two wide eyes staring down, curious as to your reaction. This was Prince Jungkook, heir to the throne of your kingdom.

"Shouldn't you be equestrian horse riding or playing polo or something?" You shout. He furrows his eyebrows, apparently offended at your assumption, and then disappears behind the edifice.

Moments later, another paper hits your shoulder as you're practicing your caligraphy behind your cart. It lands between the apples, so you reach your hand over and fish out out.

You glance up at the anticipant, and sure enough he's there with his doe eyes and his coconut head, ogling.

"No, dumbie. That's at MID-day." Well how were YOU supposed to know the royal schedule of the crown prince, it wasn't just common knowlegde you learned from being a humble farmer's daught--

Ah!

"Will you STOP?!" You put your foot down. "Unless you're here to buy my apples, then you're not getting ANY, little Prince." Oh, shit. You gave him ideas. Now it was really over for you.

In less than half an hour, half a company of men arrived at the marketplace, asking about your little old apple stand, and sure enough, Jungkook had bought out the entire cart so that you were forced to help with the transaction.

The young prince had eyes frankly too big for his head, with the most prominent cupid's bow you've ever seen. His nose slightly outgrew his face and his ears were hidden away behind his short, black hair. "Now you can talk to me." He gave you a rose he'd stolen from the royal garden. "I am Jungkook, heir to the throne of--"

"I know who you are." You interrupt him, documenting His Highness' total in your calligraphy book.

With a hand perched on his chest from surprise, he scoffed. "And I happen to think you're really pretty, so I was going to ask you to be my very first consor--"

"You're 15, you have playmates not consorts."

"And how old are you?!" He's had it, raising his voice and taking a bite out of one of your apples with force.

"16, old enough to have suitors." You tease. Jungkook hangs his head a little. He just needed someone to talk to, it would seem. Reluctantly, you scribbled down your address down on a piece of note paper and handed it to him.

"Look, if you buy more of my apples, I'll have an excuse to tell my Dad so I can hang out with you." You spoke in a low voice as to not raise suspicion.

Your dad is standing negotiating with the guards about prices, his usual embarassing haggling gruffly overpowering the guards elegant twiddle-tones.

"Wonderful! See you soon, my sweet!" He resumes his confident demeanor, tucking the paper into his overcoat with a small smile. He salutes you boyishly and marches away with a year's supply of apples.

For the next week, the royal kitchen had baked 3 apple pies, made 5 fruit salads, 4 batches of apple muffins, and threw the rest of them in Sangria; that's the same Sangria as King Jeon finds himself drinking in his wife's drawing room on Sunday.

"Call Chef, fetch him up here." He waves to his assistant, keeping his eyes on the outside. He was deep in thought, his hands stoicly behind his back.

The Kingdom had been prosperous for over many years now, and war had not come close to threatening its borders in a lifetime. Negotiations were always successful, and quality of living was high. The work of a King, in a situation such as this, was to perfect the image of the royal family as strong rulers, and to paint his daughters as desirable to foreign heirs.

"Your Grace," the assistant called his attention, "Head Chef Sung." The dainty man bows and scurries off somewhere else.

Chef Sung is a portly man, who carries himself heaving with every step, his great belly inflating with each hefty inhale. He approaches the King, and kneels down to kiss his hand with his fat lips.

The King recoils in disgust, but quickly collects himself and his words. "Where are these apples from, is it France or Spain?" He demands.

"Neither, Your Highness." Mr.Sung lifts up his eyes. "They are from our Holy Kingdom; by order of Prince Jungkook, an entire cart was purchased of these apples and we have not been able to get rid of them." Tears threatened Chef Sungs eyes at the very mention of the fruit.

'Well, there's one thing the kid's done right.' King Jeon now faces the Chef, setting down his drink on a mahogany table, leaning against it casually. "Well! Good. I'd like to meet the owner of that cart, invite him to my Sunday brunch."

"Oh, yes, of course sir! You'll never see them in our kitchen aga--What?" Chef Sung takes out his handkerchief, waving it around in the air and drying his tears at once. "So you like them! Why...Yes! Yes, of course!"

Your father thought it would be valuable to have you around the kitchen, learning from the skilled men and women employed by the Jeon family. He only visited once a week to drop off fresh produce, (he'd been officially hired to handle restocking of goods) but you, after showing promising signs of being a gifted baker during one of your father's restocks, were granted scholarship by Ms.Kang to be her aid.

You were now, officially, a resident of the Jeon Estate, residing in the servant's quarters, immediately adjacent to the kitchen. This was convenient. It was far too convenient for a certain little Prince to get the idea of wanting a midnight snack and wandering downstairs.

One day, he does just that. He finds his way into the first bedroom to the right of the stairs facing the kitchen, and that happens to be your bedroom.

He pokes you awake. "Ow! Ow, whyyy~" You whine and toss yourself over to the other side of the bed. His irritating poking persists. You grab his fingers and your eyes shatter open.

You sit up, alarmed. "You could have me arrested, what the fuck are you doing?!"

"I wanted a midnight snack! Besides, I wanna talk to you." He pouts, still holding a small teddy companion.

"Fine. I'll bake you ONE sheet of cookies." You slip on your night shoes and shuffle to the kitchen, and Jungkook tags along.

By the time Jungkook's 18th birthday comes around, he's in the kitchen helping you whisk buttercream to top his cake while having a tease at the Austrian Princess' mole.

"You have one right under your lip, look!" You take a little buttercream from the bowl and stain the dark spot with it.

He licks it up and hastens to add, "it needs more sugar, lady!" as he turns to grab a puffy bag of confection sugar.

"You're impossible to please." Snatching the sugar away from him, you smirk. "You can gobble down as many sweets as you want when the ball commences. Remember, this is the year you're supposed to be keeping your eye out for a girl of a good fam--"

"Yada yada, must have hips for childbearing, yada yada yada..." He mocks the speech his mother had told him that morning when he got dressed.

"Exactly." You set your bowl aside to fix Jungkook's tie. "Yes, and that's your duty, as our heir."

You step back and examine Jungkook one more time. He'd grown so tall in the last year, his legs like spider's and he was just beginning to grow into his features. Handsome boy.

You, too, had grown into an elegant young woman. You had a poised complexion, ready-mannered and graceful. Your hands seemed out of place in your otherwise feminine frame, carrying an extra bit of girth from baking. You were 19 years old.

Marriage was becoming an uncomfortably frequent topic during your visits home, as your mother had married young, herself, she expected the same of you.

Truth be told, there were plenty of offers for your hand. You were a skilled and very esteemed individual, who had broken into thr artisinal class. But your father knew better than put a dowry on your happiness. So long as you worked, he saw no reason to marry you off just yet.

"Now, go. Your sisters must be worried sick! Go out there." You shoo him, pushing him out the door of the kitchen despite his flailing arms.

Throughout the party, you'd been carrying a platter of your own baked goods, serving them to the aristocrats attending the Princes' coming-of-age ball. Accents from all over Europe and some from Kingdoms as far East as Cyprus jubilantly engaged in artful conversation which filled the air with good spirits.

Jungkook, himself, was busy being introduced to as many women as possible, a medley of presenting duchesses, ladies, and even Princesses of your Kingdom. They were each more qualified than you'll ever be, ten-fold.

One was a Greek Princess, her hair cascaded in darling curls down her shoulders and her eyes were deep-set, her voice a flirtatious trill.

Another, a Prussian Princess', posture radiated excellency, and whose complexion sparkled like powdered snow. Jungkook greeted her warmly, pleased with her appearance.

Distracted, you tripped up your skirt and dropped the remainder of your pastries. With that, you stepped off to use the restroom.

The sound of Strauss' Rosen aus dem Süden faintly loomed in the air as you wiped tears from your waterline in the mirror. That was just the way it was, wasn't it? Princes come of age, and they find wives who they commit their lives to.

"Married men don't have friends who are girls." You say out loud, just to realize it. Jungkook was now expected to find a mate within the season, and he was, in fact, quite the eligible bachelor.

Little did you know that Jungkook had been keeping an eye out for you throughout the party, not only because you were carrying his favorite Danish pastires, but because he knew your company was his greatest comfort.

He's in the midst of greeting the Duchess of Kent when he excuses himself to go look for you. He finds your mess first, frowning as he realizes something has gone terribly wrong.

He catches you in the hallway, face puffy and shaky. He grabs your wrist to keep you from darting back to the kitchen.

"Please don't do this, it's my birthday, y/n." It's as if an unspoken rule had been broken between you, and he feels it. Something is making you uncomfortable. "Was it the girls? You told me about this, it's my duty to at least greet them and--"

"Yeah, you sure did greet the Prussian woman nicely." You speak through tears. "She's the girl you were born to be with, huh? Your birthright?"Jungkook is silent. "Every girl at that ball wants to be your wife, want to have your children. They haven't known you for a day and yet they're ready to be your bride."

You search Jungkook's eyes for any sign of coherence, hoping that he would defend against you, that he would speak up and tell you otherwise. No such argument comes.

You yank your arm from his grip and march to the kitchen to remake the pastries you spilled.

You had the job of clearing off all the tables upon the departure of the last guests. It is midnight, and the windows of the castle stream moonlight down on the carpet beneath your feet. The glow of candles soothe you as you hum the waltzes which echo in your mind. It's a brilliant evening.

The centerpieces of the tables were gardenias, lush rose-like flowers with yellow pistils.

Summer, 1809

"Jungkook, wait! You're going to make me trip!" You shout from the top of the hill.

"You've gotta come see before the sun sets! It's the only way we'll get there on time, now run!" Jungkook's speeding down the terrain towards the Sycamore tree which grew deep and wide beneath the banks of a great rushing river.

You groan and throw caution to the wind, rolling down the steep mount in your Sunday dress. Jungkook turns to watch you, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "Look at you!"

You land on your feet at the bottom and scurry off to join Jungkook under the grandfather tree, out of breath entirely. "Now, look what you made me do. You're such a boy, you know that?! Making me come out here just to see some bloody--"

Jungkook has plucked a gardenia and placed it behind your ear. "Would you shut up? We got here on time. Behold."

In all its glory, the sun bathes you in its vivacious rays, creating a feeling of heavenly bliss as it dips below the horizon. The sky blushes pink, its clouds mere whisps above you. Wind rustles the leaves of the grand tree, rousing the birds to chirp their afternoon song.

"Mom used to come here all the time with my Dad, because of these." Jungkook clasped the blooming flower in his tender hands.

After a while, he says "the bugs will come out soon, so we ought to go back," as if he's trying not to scare something away. He helps you up, and with one last look across the valley, you walk next to each other back to the East Quarters.

You take all the silverware and plates by the tub to the dish-washing station and toss all of the linen napkins into the washing machine. All you had left was to blow out the lights in leading upstairs.

"Prince! It is very late, and there are no guests left for you to entertain. What troubles you?" Jungkook's sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands, still wearing his best suit.

"I disappointed you, y/n...I didn't like any of them." He admits, lifting his head up to sulk at you. "I should have told you then, but I didn't want to make you upset!"

Did Jungkook mistake your jealousy for disappointment?

"I'm not upset because you didn't hit it off with the girls..." You sigh. A confession is due, and he's ready to hear the truth from you about how you feel about him.

"Well, the truth is, I didn't like any of the girls because I like you, y/n. But you know that, don't you?" You pause, asking him to elaborate.

"Remember when I bought all the apples because I wanted to be with you? Like...I told you that you were my consort and I kind of meant it?" He felt pathetic now, realizing that you weren't just ignoring his advances. "So you didn't friendzone me for 2 years, you actually didn't know that I liked you."

It was almost laughable, a situation you would read in one of your illegal novels which you kept tucked away in your pillow at night. "No, Kookie, I didn't." You admit to your insolence.

You can't bear to lead him on any longer. You needed to put duty over your own self interest for the sake of the kingdom, even if it shattered his hope. It was better this way.

"But, you do know that we can't ever be a thing, right? It's just silly." Your heart tightens with the words which fall out of your mouth. "It is. Nevermind what your parents would think, what would it do for your image? You're on the world's stage, Jungkook, and you're a selfish person if you think you can just throw all of your duties away to date a scum of the Earth like-- like me!" With your heart in your throat, dry your eyes with your sleeve. "And...I want to, I really really want to, more than anything else to love you, Jungkook. I love you! I...can't." Through the blur of your tears, the shapeless blob that Jungkook has become stands up.

Taking his thumb and swiping it under your eyes, he sighs. Words escaping him, he takes your trembling body against his chest and nestles his head in the crook of your neck. Your cold hands travel underneath his overcoat to hold his waist. The Princes' lips plant a gentle kiss on your neck, chaste yet deep and satisfying.

"I will not accept any bride if not you, my love." He draws back, meeting your fervid gaze. "To the world, I remain a bachelor for a few years."

"And after those years, Jungkook?" You ride your hands up to caress the man's jaw. "You will still love me after those years, and then what?"

"I don't know," he says, voice as soft as powder. "I don't know many things, y/n, that's why I need you to teach me." His palms are rubbing at your waist, beckoning you closer.

His breath quickening as you lean your body against his hold, and you figure it must be the wine he drank to calm his nerves. That was it, wasn't it? He was drunk.

"You're not drunk, are you?" Your face sours, really hoping it's not the case as you feel your body temperature rise.

"Y/N, I've only had a glass. You saw I was a wreck back there." His lips kept chasing yours in a dance you can't quite describe. "I have wanted to hold you like this since I saw you selling apples on the street. Give me the honor..." His forehead against yours and his strong hands supporting your back, he's already fucking you with his eyes.

"The pleasure of being your lover." He squeezes your waist tight with his forearms, planting brisk kisses behind your ear and breathing in your scent. He smiles against you. Your skin pebbles at his affectionate touch, purring softly as your eyes roll back in delight.

"Kookie..." You breathe, leaning on his broad chest. "Kook, the maids are wondering where I am, I have to go..." You slur, tugging at his collar.

He grunts in protest, taking your ear between his teeth and nibbling it.

"If you let me go, I'll steal some cake for you tomorrow at breakfast." If there's anything Jungkook likes more than Cream Ice, it was cake. He unravels you from his arms and nods, his eyes softening.

"Request my service tomorrow, from Ms.Kang. She's been sweet on me lately." You peck his cheek before stepping back. Your rouge has embarrassingly stained His Grace's cheek.

Jungkook bows and presses a kiss on your hand, eyes rising to meet yours. "Til' morrow, babe."

Jiyoo shakes you awake the next morning, handing you a cake and a note that reads: "Prince Jungkook has a commission he must discuss with you. Meet him at his chamber immediately."

Lacing on a simple corset over your nightgown, you try not to look too red in the face as you climb up the stairs to His Majesty's room. You'd be up there alone, as requested. The girls would absolutely start rumors based on that alone-- rumors which you realize are probably totally true. This was stuff of scandal, after all...

'There shouldn't be anything scandalous about love.' You decide as you rap on His Highness' door.

"Please enter...but only if you have my cake!" Jungkook says in his morning voice. He's so cute.

The simplicity of Jungkook's abode takes you by surprise. His bedroom is very well lit, a capital display of the flowered valley through his bay windows washed the room in gold, painting his porcelain white carpets and his cotton sheets a warm creme color. His drawers and vanity were etched in gold, with breathtaking detailing.

The Monarch himself was splayed across the bed, laying on his side casually. He held a glass in his hand, holding a white wine. He puts down his glass and sits up as your presence.

"We both know that you didn't come here as my servant." You lock the door behind you. "And I have no such commission to give you, darling." The innocence which undertones his usual speech is missing as he coaxes you towards him.

"This much I know, Your Majesty," You say, taking a bit of frosting on your index finger and smudging it on the Princes lips. His black eyes, as cunning as a viper, watch you dangerously as you push two fingers past his plush lips. He wraps his hands around your wrist and draws your hand away, his gaze fixating on you.

"Set the cake down." At his command, you carefully place the confection down on a nearby chest, feeling Jungkook's eyes on you, drawing you back towards his grip.

"Let me pull your laces apart," with your waist held by his Herculean hand, he hums "and then let me pull you apart. I want to memorize your pleasures and gratify your desires, I need it, y/n..." Your back flush against his chest and your thighs split, his hands knead into you as he litters your collar with his mark.

You gasp softly against the crook of his neck, giving into his hold of you. His hot tongue spreads under your jaw, closing into a hard kiss as his hands travel back up to undo your corset and free your tits.

One by one, his fingers pop open the buttons left on your gown until the collar hangs off-shoulder to expose your collarbone. At the sight of new skin, Jungkook's tongue darts to stain it.

His hands stagger above your breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here?"

"Oh, Kookie, touch me everywhere~" Your hands form fists around Jungkook's shirt, beckoning him impossibly closer.

Grasping one ever so carefully, his thumb grazes your bud as he playfully bites under your ear. "ah-- ahh,"

Jungkook groans in response, he can't believe how cute you sound. Curious, he wants to hear more, so he traces your thighs and experimentally pushes up the outside your cunt.

You squirm, tensing up immediately in response. You bring your hands down to find the latch on his trousers and dip your hands below to rub him through his undergarments. He heatedly bucks up to meet your touch, a panting mess.

You face him now as he watches you ride his fingers while you grip his girth through his clothes. He takes you by the ass and places you on his prominent bulge, hips rolling into you as he hungrily kisses you, his firm hands grinding your core on his cock.

His face is a sinful red, panting under you desperately.

"I've been wanting to do this," His voice warbles through your touch, running your thumb along his underside. It's his turn to gasp. He sits up and collapses his lips into yours, softer than rose petals and his taste faintly like wine.

You place your hand on his chest, and his heart is pounding, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his honeylike complexion.

Hastily, you pull your dress over your head and lean back to allow him to familiarize himself with your stark form, a dainty chain hanging between your bosom. Jungkook bites his lips as he wriggles out of his clothing, desposing of it beside the bed.

He's giddy behind those sultry eyes, you know him well enough that he's overexcited to get inside of you. It goes straight to his cock, your playfulness as you feel up his bare shoulders and discover his abdominals, your fingers tracing his ridges with a sense of innocent wonder.

He takes your hands and looks at you in this way-- Butterflies fill your stomach instantly. Jungkook's thumbing at your pout with his intrepid fingers.

His eyes flutter when grip his base and submerge your upper body below his hips. You lick a long, thick stripe up his underside, causing his breath to hitch and his head to fall back on to the bed.

Those goddamn cupid's bow lips of his would whisper the dirtiest things under his breath, lewd thoughts that sounded completely alien coming from His Majesty's mouth, he said for you.

"Oh, such a pretty mouth~ It's so good, y/n, you swallow me so good--" he moaned like a mantra, trying to keep his hips from snapping up into you. Your hot, wet tongue wrapped around his throbbing cock was only a fantasy to him for years.

He fills your throat with his girth, his taste tantalizingly smooth. It leaves your mouth with a 'pop.' You struggle to keep your legs apart as you crawl up to kiss him.

He takes those fingers of his and slides his index and middle into you and languidly thrusts them, smirking against your lips. "Shit, you liked that, hmm..."

"Kookie...please," you whine as he squeezes your ass hard before smacking it. You yelp, the sting of his fingers radiating from your skin.

"I like it when you beg, y/n, it's so cute..." He pulls your ass up to his thighs. He's flush hard against your abdomen, already sticky with his precum and your spit. You marvel at the self control he has.

You don't finish your thought before he has his head inside of you, impaling you on his cock and stretching your entrance, hissing at how incredible it felt to have you around him.

His shaft reached pleasure points within you had yet to discover. You clench, feeling his tip brush against your cervix. "Wh... hngh," he groans, "how did you do that, do it again--" You wrap your legs around his thighs and clench around him, biting your lip. You watch as he shivers from pleasure, feeling his skin horripilate under your touch.

His thumb is softly circling above your clit as he pulls out of you carefully. He swirls back in, nestling himself inside your heat, hissing. "Ahh~ Jungkook~!" At the sound of his first name moaned out of your mouth, he groans and rolls his hips up to create messy friction. That familiar knot in your stomach tingles as he plays with the bundle of nerves buried within you.

He glances up at your ruined lips, clashing with them again as he lifts your knees up with his hands and thrusts nice and rough, making you yell with every jolt of his cock. The smell and sound of sex fills the room as he experiments with positions, laying you on all fours.

"Get your ass up for me." You obey, ever servile. You're reminded-- you're his servant. He owns your work, he owns your services, and now he wants you in the most lucrative way, he wants your soaked cunt around his imperial cock. He gets what he wants.

Jungkook's palms smack against your ass one more time, just to watch the way it jiggles for him. He smirks a little before he shoves himself into your pretty little cunt. You bury your face into the pillows in pelasure as he chases your orgasm with vigor, fingering your clitoris while you move your hips back to meet his hard thrusts.

You whine like a harlot, his cock allowing you every satisfaction as he works a head-spinning orgasm out of that cunt. "I'm gonna cum, Kookie~!" you warn as you spasm against his length, moans ripping from your throat as you coat him with your thick juices.

His hips stutter up and he just barely pulls himself completely from you as he paints your back white, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

After a while of loud panting and scattered giggling, Jungkook reaches over for a wet cloth and cleans the both of you gingerly. You trail your hands up to caress his jaw and kiss his lips softly.

"You need to tell everyone that I had a long and extensive request for the Harvest party, that I wanted a lot of fall fruits and vegetables featured in the baked goods, make it as specific as possible and make sure that you mention that I want to meet with you again, over dinner." His labored breathing punctuate his words, as youd kisses consume him. "And..."

"And?" You cock an eyebrow, simpering.

"Doyouthinkmaybeyoucouldbringmesomemilktogowithmycake?" He mumbles, eyes glued on the bed.

"What?" (If you give a Kookie a Cookie...)

Disgruntled, he sighs and repeats: "Milk! Milk for my cake. I know it's moist cause you made it but I'm really thirsty, especially after..." His cheeks flush a cute pink. You wait for him to continue just to fluster him a little more. "Y/N, just please!" You can't ever refuse his pouty face.

Next week, Jungkook's got you pinned against the hallway wall, making out with you hungrily as his hands ride up your dress. Just across the hall, his Dad is negotiating war with Portugal over land in the West.

The next month, you have his cock buried in your throat underneath the table at an important conference about how to create jobs.

All this while the pressure for Jungkook to find a bride continues to rise as he reaches seniority, and as his father's grey hairs pronounce themselves.

Warm touches are always hidden away to the public eye, but often shared between two kindred spirits underneath the man in the moon's watchful eye. Jungkook, as he reaches his maturity, grows strong. His jaw sharpens, and his eyes darken. His hair grows long, and he gains weight. Now at the proud age of 20, Jungkook had become a man before everyone's eyes, including the eyes of foreign monarchs and their eligible bachelorettes.

One day, you're serving the Royal family at a private dinner, when the topic of marriage comes up for the first time since his birthday.

"Your mother has made friends with the mother of the Austrian Princess, and she's invited you to the cordial ball to introduce yourself to the Princess. An allyship with Austria would prove advantageous for our relations with France, so you are to make your best impression." The King wipes his mouth. Setting his fork down, he continues: "It is in the family's best interest for you to marry her, if the French Princess, Anastasie, does not present this season or the next." The Queen holds the King's hand firmly, reassuring him from his shoulder. She wears a slight frown on her face, her eyes worrisome, somber. The King hides his anxiety, as he's been accustomed to from decades of responsibility. Would this be the face of Jungkook soon?

For now, Jungkook's face is scrunching at the thought of marrying Anastasie. She's not the most delightful young woman, her imprudence ruined her enjoyment of any event. She couldn't keep an intuitive conversation about regional politics and domestic policy for the life of her. Her people were on the brink of overthrowing the aristocracy, he was sure of it.

"Yes, father," is what you hear from him before you disappear down the stairs to fetch desserts.

Jiyoo interrupts your quest for sweets with a letter, signed by His Grace. She has a naturally innocent demeanor, her cheeks rosy and her frame as delicate as a feather. "Y/N, you have another special request from His Majesty...can I ask you why you get so many of these?" She looks genuinely curious, not a single menacing thought behind those eyes.

"It's because the Prince really really loves his cake." I mean, technically it was true. Jungkook never passed up an opportunity to squeeze, smack, or dig his fingernails into your ass during your sessions.

"Oh." Jiyoo pouts. "So it's not because you're like, in love or anything?" Her eyes are glued to the floor. You were expecting this question eventually, as the other girls in the kitchen were already suspecting it. It was only a matter of time before word slipped into the girl's ears.

"As much as I enjoy the Prince's interest in my baking, it isn't my place to confess any sort of feeling for him." Your answer is straightforward enough, so Jiyoo nods and hands you the letter. Another request.

Outside the Palace, Winter came like the wind. Lakes froze over, and couples tied up their skates and danced on the ice. The trees were bare and brown, not a single leaf persisting through the chilling breath of Jack Frost.

Jungkook had left for the Winter Palace, to volunteer and raise spirits up in the North. As heir to the throne, he was to be Commander in Chief of the Royal Armed Forces, and therefore needed to undergo intensive training in order to boost morale.

You're back home, and in your wake is your father, who has now grown tangibly tired. He's been on a strict diet of warm vegetable soup for about three months, now. His eyes are sunken, but he still wears a subtle smile even during his most trying days.

Match girls make their rounds at night, you watch as the lamplighters illuminate the streets with their tall ladders and their taller peacoats. Shop windows glow warm shades of yellow and creme; inscriptions on the glass create shadows on the white snow.

"Wow. It's almost as cold as the King's heart out here." You step outside one day with a cup of tea, sneaking in a cheeky smirk. Yeah, good one.

"I heard that!" You turn towards the little voice. A child, maybe about 9 or 10 years old is pointing at you. You squint at it.

"Well, it's true..." You mumble. You have a bit of change in your pocket, so you walk towards a stand to buy a hot bun and a paper.

"Chilly today, hon...Best you take this on the house." The tenant hands you a steaming cake wrapped in a simple cloth and your paper. You stick the paper in your dress pocket and take back your change. You nod a 'thank you.'

You spill the contents of your pockets on the dining table and snatch the paper, snapping it open. Your eyes eagerly skim the headline: "Prince Jungkook Fires Up Royal Army." Below is an article detailing the happenings of His Majesty. All of it sounded very intense, the running, strategizing, first aid training...Was there anything Prince Jeon couldn't nail on the first try?

You set the paper down and pick up your now lukewarm tea. In the back of your mind you're coping with the fact that the Spring Solstice is next week, and that marks the beginning of Jungkook's last season as a Prince.

The King is ill with tuberculosis, and recovery is unlikely. If Jungkook is to marry, it is next season and that was final.

Sitting at the window of his Winter Castle study, Jungkook plays with a ring nestled between his fingers. He looks out onto the lake, as if he's trying to reach you with his gaze. His heart is tight knowing that it would be the season he chooses his bride. Actually, he'd already made up his mind long ago. If his duty was to marry, there was no way to evade such a responsibility. He had to fulfill it, despite his anxieties.

He straightens up and walks out of the hollow room with a firm step.

You awaken with the sound of horse's hooves thudding against the Earth. It is yet to be dawn, and in the distance, thunder roars mightily.

A figure wearing a long, black hood hoists itself off of the animal, tying it to a nearby post. It walks towards an obscure entrance, unknown to many staff.

Intrigued, you wrap a blanket around yourself and peek out at the stranger. His fingers are shorter than his palms, and that's when he tosses of his hood, his eyes set on you. "Y/N..."

You're bewildered by his guise, questions filling your head.

"I was horny, so I left camp" He sits down at the counter, catapulting a cookie into his mouth.

You roll your eyes. "And the guards let you?! Jungkook!" You whisper-yelled at him, readjusting your makeshift blanket-dress.

"Obviously not!" He puffed out his chest with pride. "I bribed them," he smirks.

"You're insufferable," you scoff, your eyes wandering down to observe his physique. His shirt is anything but conservative, highlighting the muscle he'd earned through laborious, sweat-inducing drills. You can feel his eyes on your face as you observe him.

"You can't hide it either," he crosses his arms. "You're standing in the kitchen with a blanket around your naked body." He flicks his tongue. He steps forward, putting a finger under your jaw so you're looking him in the eye.

Your eyes fill with lust as he speaks over your lips. "Look at yourself..." A crash is heard in the other room.

Jungkook's head darts up and in a flash, he disappears into the night.

'Fuck.' You gather your dress from the floor and shuffle back to your chamber.

The first event of the season commences with the most exaltant of spirits as friends of old greet each other with youthful smiles. Juicy exposés, enticing tales, and thoughtful greetings are exchanged in the most formal manner, and the conversation is lively; the most controversial topic of conversation, however, is the rumor that Jungkook is to marry this season.

So far, he's been to four different private residences within his own Kingdom and has been invited, by the secretary of King Louis XVII to meet their daughter. It would be an understatement to say that stakes were high for the pending King.

You were kneading your dough a little too hard thinking about it. "Not so rough, y/n!" Ms.Kang snatches the mixture from your hands. "What is up with you lately, you're so tense! It's really disrupting the kitchen's dynamic."

You shrug it off. "It's going to be hard sedating Anastasie's sweet tooth, I suppose."

"Well, you seem to be doing just fine dealing with Jungkook's addiction to cakes...She's perfect for him, really." Ms.Kang throws more flour on your kneading table and steps off. You give up on the dough, covering it with a cloth and letting it rise.

Jungkook is tapping his feet, munching on finger sandwiches as he waits on you to make an appearance.

"Dearest Prince, look, I am wearing Mediterranean violet!" A duchess shouts as she passes by him, to which he raises his eyebrows at. Another, with dark green eyes approaches and begins speaking rapidly in French at him. Frightened and undereducated, his canned response was: "Excusez-moi, Pouvez-vous répéter plus lentement s'il vous plaît," to which the duchess furrows her eyebrows before something else catches her attention, elsewhere.

Truth is, Jungkook is incredibly shaken at the thought of announcing his engagement tonight. Well, that and the fact that you had yet to pop out of the kitchen. Man, those finger sandwiches were good.

As the night progresses, Jungkook realizes that if he doesn't get up on that platform and say what he needed to say, he'd have to say it in London. Setting his fears aside, he plants himself on top of the orchestral stage and taps a champagne glass with a cheese fork. The music comes to a stop.

With conviction, he begins: "The time has come that I announce my engagement. To all of my beloved friends, who have introduced me to the most beautiful, talented, diverse, and benevolent ladies I've come to get to know over the years, I thank you from the depths of my soul." He swallows and continues, his confident voice masking his trembling. "The life of a Prince is defined by the virtues presented to him at birth. Those virtues are: duty, responsibility, grace, kindness, mercy and integrity." Here comes the part, oh shit.

"I am abdicating my throne to my Cousin, the Duke of Namseong."

Silence sweeps the room. You poke your head out to see what was going on.

"...to marry the love of my life, y/n." He points at you. Your face is cherry red, and you find yourself dropping those same Danish fucking pastries all over the carpet.

"Shit," you fall on your knees, plucking them from the ground one by one. You don't know whether to run as fast as you can or to present yourself, but your body seems to be currently doing the latter. You go along with it.

Jungkook takes your hand tenderly on the stage. "I am unable to perform my duties as King, and therefore am ineligible for the throne." His touch gives you the will to continue beside him. You feel the pure fear rushing through your love's veins, and he knows that this is the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, yet he stands by his announcement.

So, if Jungkook doesn't get to be King of this World, he at least will forever be the King of Your Heart.

But all this, of course...is all in Your, dear reader, Head.

~

a/n:

hope you enjoyed.

[lubdubsworld]

A Tale Untold. ( Jungkook x Oc)

Historical Au! General Jungkook! x Princess Oc!

Warnings : Non con/ Dub con, Manipulation, violence.

Rated 18+

Summary : The King of Elvyra is proud of his empire and of his perfect family. But the truth behind his ascension, is a tale that remains untold.

“The palace is so beautifully maintained your Majesty. Truly, such opulent splendor …..” The envoy from the neighboring Kingdom stood slack jawed in the Grand Hall, staring around at the gleaming trophies, mounted shields and gold embossed portraits that decorated the walls.

The brocade curtains had been left open, tied together with silk braided ropes with jeweled hangings, the light from the late afternoon sun setting the whole place aglow. On ornate tables scattered across the large room, stood little treasures and trinkets that had been taken as bounty from successful military campaigns against smaller, weaker Kingdoms.

All of it a testament to the unchallenged power wielded by General Jeon Jungkook, the King of Elvyra. He was not like the other monarchs. He still commanded his army personally despite wearing the title of King.

Jeon Jungkook, who stood to my left, with his arm wrapped around my waist in a possessive grip that was just shy of painful.

“ You must thank my beautiful queen for that, I’m afraid, Sir Cha. She has been much occupied with setting the Hall and the Palace to rights after my ascension, and her efforts have paid off. Have they not, princess?” Jungkook whispered, turning around to brush soft lips against my ear and I felt physically sick.

The last endearment was a sneer. And insult. A reminder of what I was : a captive.

“Yes, my King.” I said softly, keeping my tone level. I wouldn’t dare act up in front of guests, because Jungkook’s punishments would be cruel and merciless. He would keep my sister away from me, or worse, he would forbid me from spending time with our oldest son.

Jihwan was only seven, but already he was being trained as the heir, spending hours on the training fields with his father and it took endless hours of begging and servicing Jungkook in his bed and out of it, for me to be allowed a scant few hours with the boy.

Jungkook drilled into his head the importance of power, the need to instill fear in his subordinates, raising him to be just as ruthless and cruel as he himself was and I had only those few stolen hours to speak to my son about the values that I had grown up with. My heart ached when I remembered the kind of monarch my own father had been : a kind, gentle man who loved his Kingdom. And my elder brother had been raised with morals , compassion and justice in his veins, only for Jeon Jungkook and his barbaric army to invade our home and destroy it all.

“Your beauty outshines all of this, my Queen.” A man simpered next to me and Jungkook’s eyes narrowed at him. I swallowed. Jungkook didn’t like others looking at what was his.

“The story of your ascension to the throne here, we would love to hear of it.” One of the women said and my breath caught in my lungs, Memories flooded my head, traumatizing and painful. My skin went hot and then icy cold and my husband laughed next to me.

“It was quite simple. I was offered the throne and the lovely daughter of the Kingdom, in return for saving them from ruin, was it not, my dear?”

Liar.

“I.. Yes.”

“Ruin? Was your kingdom is trouble, my Queen?” the woman asked.

~~~~~~

No. We were rich and thriving. Everyone was treated equal here. My parents ruled with a heart of gold and everyone was well fed and joyful. We held festivals every month, celebrated life and never deemed ill will to anyone else. We loved each other. The commonfolk dined with the royals in the courtyards and the King himself drank at the cavern down in the village. The oldest prince, my brother, he played with the boys in the village, taught them how to wield the sword and the bow and arrow and my sister and I… we spent our days in the meadows…. Making daisy chains and stealing kisses from the stable boys.

~~~~~

“ They were in desperate need of firm leadership. My father in law, may he rest in peace….he had a weak heart that gave out soon after our alliance. Her brother followed soon after leaving me no choice but to take over.” Jungkook’s voice held a note of genuine sympathy and I felt sick to my stomach.

~~~~~~~~

The sight of my father, kneeling in front of his throne, shackled and in chains. My mother on her knees, begging for mercy and Jungkook’s men held a dagger to her throat. My brother standing in front of me and my sister, arms spread wide as he stared right at General Jeon, refusing to kneel.

“What you’re doing goes against every law on earth, Jeon. The moment you attack a foe when he has his back turned you reveal yourself to be a coward.”

And Jungkook had laughed, loud and uncaring.

“And if I stab him through the heart when he’s right in front of me? What does that reveal?”

It had happened in a flash, the quick movement of his wrist, the flash of silver as he drew his weapon and then the sickening squelch of the blade as it sunk through skin and flesh. The hot wetness of my brother’s blood as it splattered all over my face, the dawning horror as I realized that he had run the sword right through my brother’s heart and the endless screams from my mother and sister as my brother died right in front of our eyes.

I had stood there, too stunned to scream watching the boy who had taught me how to walk bleeding to death in front of me and when I had looked up, Jungkook’s eyes had been trained on mine.

“Bring her here” He had said firmly, pointing right at me and my entire world had exploded in agony. I screamed in protest as his men grabbed me by the arm, yanking me forward with such force that my legs gave out, dragging over the rough stone floors as they pulled me to stand in front of the man who had invaded our home without remorse.

“General Jeon….” My father’s voice came from behind me , soft and yet firm. I could hear the grief and pain in the syllables, and I wondered how much my father must be aching at this moment. He had loved my brother with his whole heart “ We’ve offered to surrender, offered you the throne. Please. Spare my daughters and my wife. There is a summer palace at the edge of the kingdom . We will retire there and live our lives out in exile. Please… don’t hurt them. They are too young to understand what you’re doing.”

One of the men standing next to Jungkook stepped forward and I glanced at him, my eyes widening when I saw his face. He looked like an angel, pristine and flawless. And his gaze was trained on my sister . I felt my heart began to pound as he began making his way over to her.

“No!! No… Aline!!” I screamed and Jungkook’s hand shot out gripping my jaw and forcing my mouth closed.

“Hold your tongue, woman.” He whispered. “ My patience wears thin.” He glanced at my father and the smirk on his face grew bigger. “ I think that would be such a pity, your highness. A face like your daughter’s … it doesn’t belong in exile. It belongs on the throne…. does it not, princess?”

“Your daughters are beautiful , majesty. They deserve to have handsome, brave husbands, do they not?” the man who had gone to my sister called out, his fingers curled around her arm as he dragged her to the front and I felt my heart crack in two as Aline burst into loud, miserable tears.

“Lulu…. Lulu make him stop… tell him to let me go…” She whimpered , punching fruitless against the soldier’s armored chest and the man seemed amused as he stared at her.

“Please…she’s too young…” I begged, staring at Jungkook beseechingly. “ She’s only sixteen summers old… Please don’t hurt her…”

“Sixteen isn’t a child. She is old enough to bear one herself.” The man holding her snapped angrily and I stiffened.

“A fair enough point, Taehyung- ah…” Jungkook laughed “ but we’re not barbarians. Let her go for now.”

“What?” Taehyung growled. “ No. I want her. Jungkook I’ve never taken anything from any of the countless kingdoms we’ve ravaged but I want her.” He shook my sister like she was ragged doll and Aline looked catatonic with terror.

“Please , let her go, she’s shaking…” I begged , trying to yank my arms away from the men holding me and Jungkook growled.

“Shut your mouth or your father dies.” He snarled and I was too stricken, too distracted to register what he had said, too focused on my baby sister to listen.

“please Jungkook, don’t do this… She’s young and she’s scared….”

Jungkook’s snarl of rage made me go white as a sheet and I watched in horror as he pointed straight at my father with the sword that still dripped with my brother’s life blood.

“ Get rid of the old fool.” He roared and my heart ripped straight in two.

“NO!!!!!!!”

My loud cry did nothing to deter the men holding my father who showed not a moment of hesitation, raising their sword.

“Remember who you are, Iseul!!” My father said loudly and I turned my face away, closing my eyes as the sickening sound of the blade coming down rang through the place, my mother’s howl of agony following shortly after. I stared at the floor, going limp in the arms of the men holding me up, my body numb and throbbing in disbelief.

“Now look what you made me do.” Jungkook snapped. “ I was going to let the poor fool live, somewhere in the dungeons with your mother but your complete and utter disregard for my authority….it fills me with rage, Iseul.” He snapped.

I couldn’t breathe, my lungs constricting. They were dead. My father and brother, the only two men who had protected me and my sister all our lives, they were both dead. This man. No, not a man. A monster.

This cruel, heartless monster had butchered them in front of my eyes.

“Look at me.” He said suddenly, stepping in front of me.

I didn’t respond, keeping my gaze trained on the floor and his hand shot out, gripping my chin and forcing me to look up at him.

“Look at me.” He said firmly. “ Come morning we will be wed. I will be your husband. You will belong to me. You will give me strong heirs and all of your wants and needs will be mine to fulfill. Do you understand what that means, Iseul?” He demanded.

I choked on a sob.

“Jungkook we need to get rid of the bodies. Give them a proper funeral at least.” Another man stepped out of the shadows and Jungkook sighed.

“Yes, hyung. Taehyung-ah… Why don’t we take our new brides to our chambers?” He smirked, “ I could do with some stress relief now that the hard part of this whole thing is done.”

“Took you long enough. Come here my pretty doll…” Taehyung grinned, dragging Aline away and I whimpered, stumbling to try and follow but Jungkook’s arm came around my waist squeezing tight.

“That’s her husband now. Think of it that way and it will hurt less. Your sister is married to a man who will love her , protect her and cherish her. He will give her nice strong children. What more do you want for her?”

I exhaled shakily, turning to him.

“ What do you know of love, you monster?” I whispered.

Jungkook hummed.

“Then how about this, my princess. Let me teach you what I know of pleasure, and you can teach me all about love.”

It was a lesson that I never forgot. A painful, humiliating excruciating lesson in his bed where he stripped of my clothes, my dignity and the last shreds of my honour.

I stared at the ceiling as he lay over me, the large expanse of his chest pinning me to the mattress, the slick drag of his member inside me making me ache and throb, his lips, pressing kisses against my throat.

“you smell like a flower garden, my angel. So pure and precious. Made for me, I see….” He whispered, hips pushing up against mine as he ducked into me with long, rough strokes.

I stayed still staring into nothing and he pinched my nipple, twisting the buds till I whimpered.

“Please…”

“please what?” He whispered, resting his forehead against mine, forcing me to stare into doe eyes that seemed to glitter like the clear sky on a spring night. What a beautiful monster.

“Please stop…” I whispered.

“Stop…” He laughed cruelly. He pulled out fully before slamming back in with more force. Pain lanced up my body. “ Now why would I do that?”

“Hurts…” I whispered, exhausted. My hands lay limp and tired next to my head, throbbing from trying to punch him countless times to no avail.

“Poor little love. It hurts because you aren’t used to it. I will do this often and well and soon, your body will know that I belong inside you. And then you will beg me to make it last longer… not stop.”

I closed my eyes, staring into my mind. Remember who you are? I didn’t even know who I was anymore.

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

“Of course, it was a pity that the royal blood came to an end that way. But some things can’t be helped.” Jungkook said firmly, arm still wrapped around me in a vice like grip. I glanced at the sun as it dipped lower in the sky. Was Jihwan done with the training? I wanted to see him. To hold him and remind myself that there was still some goodness in the world.

“But under your rule, the kingdom has thrived, your Majesty. So it was all for the best.” The man said brightly and Jungkook chuckled.

“That is true. Would you like to view the training grounds now?”

“If, I maybe excused?” I asked softly and Jungkook frowned.

“Is something the matter?”

“I feel a little unwell…” I said softly and the look on his face darkened.

But he didn’t protest, merely dipping his head lightly.

“Jihwan is in the west wing. He’s working on his scribing skills. You may visit him for a while and after our guests retire, I will fetch you from him.”

I bowed respectfully.

“Thank you, my King.”

~~~~~~~~

“Mother!!!” Jihwan’s loud cry rang through the hallway as he came barreling into my arms. I caught him too my chest, eyes stinging because soon he would be too old for me to hug and kiss and caress.

“My darling child, I’ve missed you..” I whispered.

“You saw me last night at dinner…” He laughed.

“And that is entirely too long ago.” I brushed the hair of his face. “ did you eat your meals? Have you been keeping yourself safe?”

He nodded eagerly.

“Auntie Aline and Uncle Tae bought me a new dagger.”

I felt my heart drop. A dagger?

“Darling, please be safe…Is it too sharp?”

“A little. But Uncle Tae told me I’m old enough to learn how to use it to fight.”

I closed my eyes, willing my self not to scream in frustration.

“Alright. But now unless your father is there to watch you, alright?” I whispered.

He nodded.

“Yes, mother. Mother…. “ He hesitated. “ Do Auntie Aline and Uncle Tae love each other?”

I blinked.

“What?”

“She looks so sad, sometimes.”

I bit my lips, willing myself to smile. Unlike me , my sister didn’t know how to put on an act. She had always been a delicate child and the trauma of our parents death and Taehyung’s cruelty had taken a toll on her. She was deeply depressed but her husband didn’t care. All Taehyung cared for was her body and the two sturdy sons she had borne him, a third child on the way.

“Of course darling. You do know, Han and Jiwoo are going to have a younger sibling soon? She must be tired from growing the baby inside her.”

“Will I have a sibling too?” He asked innocently and I opened my mouth to refute the idea when a shadow fell over us.

“Would you like one, my brave little tiger?” Jungkook’s voice rang over us and I stiffened.

“No.” I said swiftly, “ He enjoys having all of mama’s attention, don’t you darling?”

Jihwan wrinkled his nose.

“I don’t know. A little sister would feel nice.”

Jungkook hummed.

“I like the idea of that. If you give me a daughter then we can have her betrothed to Han at birth.” He said casually and I felt sick.

“Jihwan, you must go back to your lessons, now. Your mother and I will see you at dinner.” Jungkook said softly and I flinched when Jungkook gripped my shoulders tugging me away from my boy. Everyday Jihwan looked less and less upset at leaving me and I wondered if one day he would begin welcoming my departure.

Jungkook didn’t say a word, turning me around and leading me gently to the opposite wing, where our bedchamber lay. It was a path I traipsed a million times in the seven years we’d been married and yet, it felt just as unbearable as it had back then.

The sight of the King made the maids and footmen scramble away in a panic and I swallowed as he opened the large engraved doors , prompting me to go in. I stepped in only to have him press against my back at once. I stayed still, letting him untie the strings of my train, before moving to undo the button of my gown. He stopped halfway through.

“This is tedious. Strip for me and get on the bed.”

I didn’t move. What did he want? Surely he wouldn’t be thinking of humoring my son? The idea of bearing more children for him was abhorrent to me. I wanted to cry. But I did as he said, carefully stripping out of all my clothes ,m placing them in a neat pile, on the table nearby before moving to climb into the bed for him. Jungkook moved into sit against the headboard, before grabbing my wrists and pulling me to his lap.

“Look at me.” Jungkook said, once I sat straddling his thick thighs, the curve of my bottom resting against the hardness of his arousal. “ I was right, wasn’t I?”

I stared at him as his hands came up to pinch both of my nipples at the same time, playing with the hardened numbs till I began squirming on his hard length.

“ You were made for this weren’t you? To be my queen and my wife? Such a perfect mother too. I was right to choose you, wasn’t I?”

I stared at him, the handsome face that I wanted to hate., But it was hard. He had given me Jihwan. He had let me keep my sister at arm’s length. He had let my mother live out her years in the palace, although the grief had killed her two years ago. It could be worse, I told myself, lifting and moving to line the tip of his member against my body and sinking down on him. It could be so much worse.

“Fuck…yes. Just like that angel….” He gripped my waist, bucking up into me and my body caved, now used to the intrusion.

“Yes…” I choked out, when his thumb moved to press against my center, rubbing circles.

“I was right….I’m always right . Your body knows I belong inside you.”

He pulled me close, arms a vice around my body and I choked as he fucked into me .

“Say it… “ He demanded and I closed my eyes, sorrow and helplessness welling into tears and brimming over my eyes onto his shoulders and down his back. But Just as I was used to him inside me, Jungkook was used to the tears soaking him whenever we did this.

“Don’t stop.” I breathed.

The King after all was always right.

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

Author's Note : Would you guys like another part? But please tell me what you thought !!