#also not shown here but her wings do in fact flutter like crazy like any normal bugs' would

[ferahntics]

More Quiver? More Quiver

[angstmongertina]

hidden meanings

Mishka answered an ask about what A meant when they said that they aren’t “good at this sort of thing” and it fucking destroyed me so here we are, like a week and some 2.6k words later. (I’m sorry I’m a slow writer lol.)

Guys, I love Adam so goddamn much.

Most of the dialogue is Mishka’s. I’m just expanding out the scene with more introspection than is entirely healthy lol.

AO3 Link

Adam is not, by nature, a man of change.

Of course, living through nine centuries has done something to temper his obstinacy, and he knows that he is at least less technology-adverse than Nate, but he is also fully aware of the fact that that comparison means hardly anything. Even so, in his long life, he has also found it far easier to simply focus on the present and his duties to the Agency, the organization that, despite its own changes, has remained one of the closest things to a constant in the rapidly evolving world around him.

This world that he does not truly belong in, but that he also cannot leave, that he has simply been existing in for nearly a millennium.

Still, he has long since learned that it is easier, that it is better, to concentrate on the task at hand, to do his job without unnecessary frills and complications. He only has need of himself, his assignment, and his team, those very select few he has come to work with and trust. Those others who have proven themselves, who are also frozen in time, permanently caught in the eddies of the steady stream of life. Who, like him, have secrets and memories that lay guarded, shrouded in the past, out of sight and out of mind.

At least, that has all been the case until Unit Bravo found themselves assigned to Wayhaven and to her.

If anyone had told him, a scant few months earlier, that a human woman, still so young and inexperienced, the daughter of his unit’s handler, would have brought so much change to all of their lives, he would have called them crazy. And yet…

He glances down to his side.

It is a strange thing. At a first pass, the figure walking beside him, taking at least two steps for every one of his, is not one he would have expected to make such an impact. While he has to admit that Agent Langford herself is not of any impressive physical stature, she has an elegance, a commanding presence, that has always served her well, both on the field and behind a desk. Her daughter, on the other hand, manages to be of even smaller frame, not even reaching his shoulder in height, and so slender that she looks as though a strong wind might be able to knock her off her feet. Despite the potential dangers of their mission, her dark hair hangs in messy waves down her back, long and unbound and utterly impractical for combat. All in all, she is, at least at first glance, utterly ordinary, looking for all the world like another resident of Wayhaven that has shown up to this accursed carnival. Except…

Except, in spite of the crowds, the noise and the sights and the chaos, of everything that he loathes, everything that should be overwhelming to his senses, even in the best of times, all of it pales in comparison to her.

As if sensing his thoughts, or at least his attention, she tilts her head up, raising an eyebrow, and his chest tightens at the inquisitive look in the stormy grey eyes that lift to meet his, at the way his traitorous hand twitches in its attempt to reach out for her. Her lips part, all soft curves compared to the bright sharpness of her gaze, and he only realizes when she presses them together, a heaviness resting in their corners, that she has asked him a question.

One that he cannot for the life of him even begin to recall.

Instead, he gives his usual noncommittal grunt, at once a deflection and a response, one that has always served him well. Except this time, his typical antagonism does not appear to hide his preoccupation; for a split second, something flashes across her face, disappearing so quickly that even he, with his supernatural speed, cannot identify it. Its swift departure does not, however, prevent it from settling poorly in his stomach, a sudden storm of unease that has him looking down, unable to meet her eyes and the depths of what he might find there.

He cannot help but be thankful that it is only a few steps further to the carousel, a bright, swirling mixture of colors and music that seems to draw the attention of everyone in range. Almost as if it has been expecting them, the ride slows as they approach, and he does not fail to notice the way Surina’s face brightens as she sets foot onto the steps, the first hint of true enthusiasm he has seen from her since their disagreement in the car.

The animation in her features, highlighted by the twinkling lights of the ride, is nearly enough to make him stumble as he follows her. Climbing up with more difficulty than he cares to admit, he stiffens, clearing his throat before crossing his arms over his chest.

Given her preoccupation, he is almost surprised when it cuts through her reverie, but somehow, it does and in spite of the bustle of others climbing on around them and the general din of the park, her quiet intake of breath echoes in his mind. She turns from inspecting one of the fiberglass creatures to give him another questioning look, but this time, he is prepared for her keen gaze and instead, he glances about them, eyes narrowed. “I don’t think both of us should be seated for this ride. One of us should stay standing to cover us in case of issues.”

The words come out stilted, heavy against her excitement, and part of him finds himself regretting them when they seem to settle over her shoulders, pressing down against the cheer that had lifted them only moments earlier. For a second, he wonders if she will argue, contemplates apologizing, but she only exhales in a long breath before giving a nod, though a hint of a smirk replaces the faint frown on her face, one that is usually enough to put him on his guard, except…

Except, this time, those grey eyes lighten to a softer blue, once again dancing with her amusement, and he can feel his chest tighten in response, enough so that he almost, almost, misses her next statement.

“All right. You sit and I’ll stand.”

It is a challenge and he knows it. Her face is alight with the force of her energy, her eyebrow quirked teasingly with a hand braced on her hip. Despite his best efforts, his breath catches in his throat as the corner of her mouth curls into a smirk, and he has to actively force himself to look away, running a hand through his hair to resist the urge to wipe that cocky smile off of her face, to taste the insolence on her lips…

“Fine.”

Blindly, he reaches for the nearest creature, climbing into the fiberglass saddle before the form of his chosen steed registers to him. It isn’t until she steps closer, her grin growing wider, that the curved neck and pale white wings filter into his consciousness, and he finds himself resisting the urge to growl.

“Seems appropriate.” She chuckles, apparently too preoccupied with running a hand over the bright orange beak to notice the way he stiffens at her words, his heart pounding so loudly that it’s a small wonder everyone on the ride doesn’t notice, but, oddly, instead of mocking, her gaze is playful, a soft invitation. “You know, the whole bad-tempered part?”

She takes another step closer and he says nothing, cannot begin to form a coherent sentence in lieu of gritting his teeth as her arm brushes against his, a warmth that he can feel even through his coat, and he resists the urge to flinch.

Judging from the way she glances away, her expression falling yet again, he is not as subtle as he hopes.

He is not sure if it is perfect or horrendous timing that the ride begins then and she rocks onto her heels, her hand wrapping around the pole just under his, so close that he can feel the heat from it, can almost feel the fluttering of her heartbeat, soft and rhythmical under the cheerfully chiming music, interwoven with laughter and conversation from the other patrons. Steady and intoxicating.

He swallows once, hard, and looks away.

“Maybe we should talk… or something?” Her voice is quiet, enough so that he is certain that anyone without supernatural hearing would not have been able to hear it, and his eyebrows climb at the show of hesitance from his normally combative companion. “Help blend in with everyone else.”

In spite of his better judgment, he lets his eyes drift back over the crowds to where she stands at his side, her face tilted slightly to meet his gaze, and finds his thoughts scattering under the weight of that soft grey. “Talk?” The word comes out slightly strangled and he hastily clears his throat. “Talk of what?”

A slim shoulder rises in a shrug. “Anything, I suppose. We just stand out because we’re so silent.”

“We’re on a job. Chatting isn’t a priority.”

The reply falls out of his mouth without thinking, with the reflexes born from centuries of sidestepping and ignoring attempts at unnecessary conversations and sentiments, of focusing on his missions for the Agency, of maintaining his distance from this world that he does not quite belong in. It is the simple truth, the best, safest approach for everyone involved. And yet…

And yet the flicker of emotion in her eyes before her face smooths out stings, a keen ache in his chest that somehow hurts far more than any amount of anger would have, particularly when she only looks around before leaning closer, her voice dropping to scarcely more than a breath on the evening breeze.

“That was a little loud, Adam. People might overhear.”

The mild censure manages to filter into his consciousness, and he only barely manages to stop himself from flinching at the warning. Their investigation, their mission for the Agency… They are paramount, are the only reason why she is here with him now, playing out this little charade. They must be. Which means…

He turns to meet her gaze once more, taking a deep breath as he catches her eye, now dark and swirling with a myriad of emotions, just out of reach, that he does not dare to try and recognize, that he will not, that he cannot, lose himself in.

Not again. Never again.

Even so, his traitorous heart clenches in his chest, sharp and almost stifling, each pounding heartbeat sending a fresh pang through his entire being. Each breath is constricted, straining against the tightness that binds him, wrapping around his chest until he is drowning in the fierce ocean of his own intense reaction. In wild desperation, he arches his back, focusing on the way his muscles stretch and tighten, on the weight of his coat shifting over his shoulders, on the breath that escapes his lips, warm in the cool evening air. On the space his movement adds between them, the distance that he needs to maintain.

On anything but her.

And still, he can feel those stormy eyes watching him, unwavering, waiting. He can feel his walls cracking under that heavy gaze, feel as it seems to draw the truth from the depths of his soul, and as much as he wants to hold it all back, he cannot. Not to her.

“I’m not good at…” At maintaining appearances around her, at opening up to other people, or even himself. At vulnerability… “At this kind of thing.”

For a moment, her expression softens, and he stiffens ever so slightly at the gentleness in her gaze, at the way she leans even closer, apprehension and hope waging war in equal measure in his mind. “You don’t have to be,” she says, her voice so soft that he can scarcely hear it over the thundering of his heart. “You just have to try.”

Her words echo in his mind, quiet and patient and somehow they shake him more than  anything she has said to him before, threatening to peel back each of his painstakingly constructed layers until he is exposed, raw and bare and…

Crimson flowing in thick rivulets from the gashes in her neck, staining the concrete floor. Soft grey eyes fluttering closed over a shaky smile. Fear and desperation drowning out every rational thought, every ounce of sense in his mind—

He swallows hard.

…And dangerous.

This world is, he is, a threat to her, one he cannot let himself expose her to, no matter how desperately part of him wants to. Not if he brings naught but pain and destruction to her, as he inevitably will.

He has learned that much, at least.

His free hand clenched in an effort to not break the bar he still holds, he takes a deep breath against that persistent tightness in his chest, letting it out in a long sigh. “You are…” The ride separates them gradually, irrevocably, and he cannot be sure if it is relief or disappointment that floods his system, that has the corners of his mouth relaxing. Just as he cannot be sure whether it is fear or anticipation that quickens his heart as he returns once more to meet her gaze, still with that strange, unfathomable patience. As he bites his tongue, holding back the words he longs to say, the truths he cannot tell. “Difficult to talk to,” he finishes quietly but the words feel hollow in his mouth and he cannot hide from the way she lets out the breath she was holding, from the disappointment that streaks across her face, that finds the cracks in his already weakened defenses and cuts, deep and piercing.

“Why?”

The ride has shifted until he is level with her once more and, this close, he can feel the puff of her breath against his skin in the cool evening air, the gentle caress drawing his gaze until all he can see is the soft curve of her lips, parted and frozen, waiting. He can feel the heat of her hand curled around the pole, just below his, skin fluttering with the rapid beating of her heart, so exposed and fragile. He can feel the shape of her name in his mouth, his lips forming around each syllable, the sounds hanging heavy in the space between them, careful and hesitant and yet, somehow, right…

A small jerk throws him off balance, sending Surina stumbling a few steps to the side, and he reacts on instinct, sitting upright as she catches her balance, his muscles tensing when he realizes that he has begun to reach out a steadying hand. Her gaze is still on him, dark and inscrutable, slowly, inexorably drawing him into that pool of something deep and overwhelming and he can’t.

With an effort, he wrenches his gaze away, his hand once again tightening into a fist. Their surroundings filter back into his consciousness, the other riders dismounting, the din of their laughter and conversations crashing back over him in waves of noise and sensation. Cold. Shocking.

A reminder.

Clearing his throat, he slides off the swan, the simple action less fluid than he would like to admit, and finds himself tugging at the collar of his coat. Instead, he folds his arms across his chest, sturdy and resolute. Shielding. “We should move on.”

It is nothing more than a simple statement of truth. He knows this. And yet, he cannot quite suppress the disappointment that wells in his chest when she nods, her reply a quiet whisper, and follows him back into the crowd.

[char-thenerd]

Flight of the Mind 

Part 25 

Series Masterlist

A/N:  HELLO IM BACK FROM THE DEAD!!! Thank you for your continued patience with me this last month but Its finished finally.  Also I should say i didn’t really edit this so it might be terrible.  however I love you all! Hope you have a wonderful afternoon! 

Y/n and Seonghwa had assumed their small moment of passion together had gone unseen, but they didn’t realize that they had made a mistake until it was too late.  When they returned to the castle they didn’t even have a moment to rest before they were called to the throne room, unaware of the fate that would shortly befall them. 

 Once they both stood in front of the throne Queen Hyuna snapped her fingers and guards quickly restrained them both, ridding Seonghwa of his weapons.  

“I expected better of the two of you.” She said once the guards forced them to kneel “Lady Lisa has shown me that you two have broken your vows to be loyal to me and only me.” 

“What do you mean?”  Y/n asked panicking. 

“Your dating ban, we have seen your relationship, sealed with a kiss.” Lady Lisa responded with a small smirk.  

“She’s lying we would never-“ Seonghwa started to defend before being cut off by the queen slamming her hands down on the arms of her throne. 

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” She yelled eyes ablaze with fury. “The photo of your passion is enough proof that you two are obviously weak and I can not allow the weak to continue at my side.  For this indiscretion, the two of you will be publicly executed to remind the people what I do to those who cross me and disobey my orders. It will occur tomorrow, for now take them to the dungeons.”  She finished with a flourish of her hand, before the guards holding them pulled them to their feet and completed what Hyuna had ordered them to do,  with both y/n and Seonghwa fighting and screaming every step of the way.  Seonghwa nearly escaped when they reached the cell by kneeing one of the guards in the crotch but he was quickly subdued again by another guard standing by and forced back into the dark cell knocking y/n over in the process. After making sure y/n was alright and not hurt by the force he was thrown onto her, seonghwa attempted to find some way out of the cell angry with himself that they had been caught, while y/n just seemed resigned to the fact that she was to die, simply accepting their fate.  After watching him struggle for nearly half an hour y/n spoke attempting to pull his attention away from the obviously impossible attempts he was making. 

“Seonghwa, You of all people should know that there’s no way to get out of here.” 

“There has to be a way,” he responded quietly before raising his voice to a yell in anger “I’m not going to let you die because of my mistake!”

“Seonghwa this is just as much my fault as it is yours, you can’t take all of the blame.”  Y/n retorted attempting to keep her voice calm, despite the fear and anger she was feeling. After waiting a minute she approached him from behind and began rubbing his back, his wings fluttering slightly “We both need to accept the blame, but if we truly are to die, I would rather spend the time we have left together in peace, and not wasting our energy on something we both know is pointless and allowing anger to get the better of us.” At the end of her words, seonghwa simply broke down crying, his whole body shaking in an effort to keep the tears at bay.  In an attempt to make themselves more comfortable, Y/n took his arm and led him to the wall at the back of the small cell and sat them both down on the cold dirt floor.  Seonghwa continued crying into y/n’s shoulder, as she tried to comfort him, knowing that it wouldn’t matter.  How could you truly comfort someone that knew they were going to die? With that realization, Y/n broke down too, understanding that this was truly going to be her fate.  To die next to the man she loved. 

“I was going to grow old with you.” Seonghwa admitted with a shaky voice and tear stained face. 

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked wiping the stray tears from her face looking at him, trying to keep her composure enough to hear him out. 

“When this was all over, I was going to take you away, maybe back to your village, maybe back to Elyxion, it doesn’t matter just away. I was going to bond with you, start a family with you, and continue to love you for the rest of our lives.” Y/n began thinking about the roads they could have taken together and broke down crying again, before Seonghwa asked “Would you have followed that path with me?” Y/n responded in a voice no louder than a whisper. 

“I would follow any path, as long as you are at my side.” 

“Even this path? Where we both meet our untimely ends.” 

“Yes,” she said looking into his bloodshot eyes.  “We knew that this was a risk when we started, if I didn’t think that it would have been worth it, I would have left our night in that hotel be a one time thing.  Seonghwa this has been worth every moment we’ve spent together.  Even though it has been short, we made it together.”  

“How are you this calm?  We’re going to die tomorrow?”  

“I’m not sure, this just doesn’t feel like the end to me.  I might be crazy but it feels like there’s something waiting for us on the other side.”  

“If that’s what brings you comfort, it might not be a bad thing to believe in.”  He responded finally calming down enough to stop crying.  

“I hope you know that I am glad we’ve had this time together Seonghwa.” She said, putting her head on his shoulder.  

“Me too.” He responded kissing the top of her head before placing his own head on top of hers, falling into a comfortable silence that eventually lulled them both to sleep.  

Even though the scheduled execution had only been announced the day prior, thousands of subjects arrived to see if the announcement was true.  Were the two most loyal people to the queen, one of whom had commited murder for her, truly going to be executed, simply for being in love?  Most came to see, if she could kill those who were closest to her, why would she hesitate to kill people she had no connection to?  The sun shone down on the gathering, causing the heat and tension to rise as they waited for the Queen to present herself before them along with the two 'accused’.  Once she appeared, there was no cheering, no applause, simply silence tinted with fear.  After a few moments she began to speak.  

“Bring out the accused!” The disdain in her voice prominent.  With the command a door leading from the dungeons opened revealing five guards holding a struggling Y/n and Seonghwa. “These two have defied my direct orders and are now being labeled as traitors and being executed for treason.  To all who would think to defy me, those who would think of rebelling against me, let their heads be a signal and reminder as to what will happen if you defy me.  Begin with the execution.”  As soon as she finished speaking, the guards brought the two victims towards the blocks, walking them to their deaths, while they continued to struggle.  Once they reached the blocks however, they were quickly subdued and tied down so they could no longer move.  However, y/n continued to struggle, with the calm she had felt yesterday completely gone from her brain, pain and fear taking over her senses, making it difficult to breath.  With their heads secured to the blocks, y/n and Seonghwa were able to look at each other.  He saw her panic and attempted to calm her. 

“Y/n, I love you, but we can't get out of this. It’s time to go home love.”  He spoke to her while tears streamed down her face.  

“I know,” She responded staring into his eyes “I’ll see you on the other side.”  Once they had their moment, the two executioners took their places beside the two victims.  Y/n knew that there was no going back now,  but all she wanted was to continue looking at Seonghwa.   Even as she saw the axe being raised above his head, knowing that the same thing was happening on her side, just out of her vision.  She spoke one last time to him “I love you Seonghwa.”  As soon as the words left her mouth, the axes descended on them both.  

Y/n’s vision blackened for a second before her eyes shot open, loud beeping happening next to her, choking on something shoved down her throat, unable to breathe properly, she struggled to get oxygen back into her lungs as she heard people shouting in the hallway and the sound of shoes running.  She quickly heard a familiar voice approaching her.  

“Y/n, My name is Dr.Park, if you can hear me blink.” Seonghwa said, coming into her line of sight.  She made a dramatic show of closing and opening her eyes, still attempting to process everything happening.  “Lift your thumb for me sweetheart, lift your thumb.”  She proceeded to do what he asked.  “Ok perfect, we’re going to pull the breathing tube out. It might be a little uncomfortable.”  Y/n blinked to show her understanding.  “Nurse on three, one, two, three.”  When the tube was pulled out, y/n began coughing uncontrollably.  “It’s ok love, breathe.”  Seonghwa quickly placed an oxygen mask around her nose and mouth.  “Deep breaths, there we go.” Once her breathing and heart rate regulated, seonghwa secured the oxygen mask to her face.  After a minute Y/n tried to ask what was happening but the only sound that came out was a small squawk. Seonghwa laughed a little at her attempt to speak. “It will be hard for you to speak after having the breathing tube pulled out but you should regain your voice soon. Do you know where you are Y/n?”  After trying to speak again with the same results, she shook her head no.  “You’re in the icu of Seoul General Hospital. Do you remember what happened?” She repeated the same movement showing obvious confusion in her eyes. “You had a bad accident cliff jumping with your friends.  You hit your head and have been in a coma for three months. You're lucky to be alive y/n.” She looked away from Seonghwa to stare at the wall attempting to rack her mind around what was truth.  Was this the afterlife? Was this reality?  After a few minutes of silence seonghwa spoke again “I can see you trying to remember everything, but don’t worry. You may not be able to remember the actual accident but you should come back to normal after a day or two ok? Will you be ok if I leave to let your family and friends know that you’re awake? I’ll leave the nurse here to watch out for you.” Y/n looked back at him and nodded slightly, not really wanting him to go but knowing he couldn’t stay. Y/n still lying down continued to think about everything that was happening.  Her death, her whole world, confusion still clouding both.  “Y/n.”  Seonghwa said bringing her attention back from her thoughts, causing her to look up “Your brother and friends should be here soon, but I got you something to help you communicate while you recover your voice.”  After he entered farther into the room holding out a notepad and pen.  “What’s going on in that head of yours?”  She quickly grabbed the pad and wrote 

(Is this the afterlife?)  

“What makes you ask that?”  He asked after reading her question. 

(We were beheaded for betraying the queen.  Why are we not dead?) 

“Ah, that makes more sense.” He responded taking in her question.  “Y/n you suffered a head injury when you jumped from a cliff, Your brain wanted to keep you alive so it created a world to keep itself active and functioning even if you weren’t conscious.”  She looked at him even more confused.  “I know that this seems like the afterlife since you died in your dream but I can assure you y/n this world is in fact real, and just as alive as you are.  You’ll get used to it again.”  

(But we died Seongwha, how can I prove that We’re not actually dead?) 

“That unfortunately is something only you can figure out.  As much as I can try to help you you’re going to have to be the one work that out in your brain.”  When he finished his sentence there were loud voices coming from the hallway. Which caused seonghwa to leave his spot beside y/n to see what was happening. 

“Sir, I’m afraid you can’t go in there.”  A female voice said sternly.

“I don’t give a damn, I was told my sister was awake and I want to see her!” A familiar voice said.  

“Sir if you can’t calm down I will have to call security.”  She said matter of factly.

“That won’t be necessary Nurse Lisa,  Baekhyun can come in.” Seonghwa said stepping into the hallway.  “I do have to warn though,  She was dreaming while she was in her coma so she’s having a hard time understanding that this is reality.”  

“Is she not remembering who she is?” Baekhyun asked with a hint of underlying fear.  

“She was in a dream world and in her mind that was real, so she’s under the impression that this is the afterlife.  I have a feeling that she’ll be ok with a few reminders, which is why I’ve also called Mingi and Jongho.” 

“Can I let Mingi and Jongho know what’s up before I go in?  I don’t want them barrelling their way in here just to be blindsided.” 

“Of course.  Take your time.” Seonghwa walked back into the room while Baekhyun pulled out his phone and quickly dialed Mingi’s number, knowing Jongho would be the one driving to the hospital.  

“Hey hyung, did you hear! You’re on speakerphone by the way!” Minigi yelled causing Baekhyun to flinch and pull the phone away from his ear for a second.  

“Yeah Mingi I know, I’m at the hospital now.”  

“What’s wrong Hyung?”  Jongho asked, calmly.  

“Just giving you guys a heads up, because of the injury, she might not remember you.  Dr. Park gave me a warning before I went in.  I just wanted to let you guys know so you don’t come rushing in with guns blazing.”  

“Dr. Park warned us when we thought she was going to wake up those few weeks ago.  But we’ll keep that in mind.  Thanks hyung.” 

“Yeah, It’ll be ok hyung.  We’ve got pictures if she doesn’t remember us!” 

“We’ll be there in 20.” 

“K, See you guys soon.”  He pulled his phone down to see a text from Chanyeol.

After he put his phone back in his pocket, Baekhyun approached the room and watched from the doorway as Dr. Park was gently talking to y/n.  Even though he didn’t want to interrupt their conversation he knew he would have to face them eventually so he knocked softly simply to alert them that he was there.   Both of them looked up towards the door.  

“Come on in.” Seonghwa said to Baek, once he had sat down on the chair by her bed, Seonghwa asked y/n.  “Y/n do you Know who this is?”  She pulled off the top piece of paper and wrote 

(He’s Baekhyun) showing them both.  Giving Baek a flicker of hope 

If she can remember my name, she can remember who I am. he thought to himself.  

“Good, do you remember who he is to you?”  She began writing underneath 

(He’s the one who helped me with my light magic)  his face fell after she wrote that, when she noticed she wrote again (I’m sorry if that’s not right) Baekhyun quickly corrected her.  

“No, don’t apologize. That’s what you know, but I can say that we don’t have magic here and also,”  he paused and looked at Seonghwa who gave him a small nod. “I’m your brother.”  She looked confused at the revelation, quickly writing, 

(like biologically?) 

“Yes, here.”  He answered, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening his photos and began showing here photos from growing up together.  From when their parents brought her home from the hospital, all the way to his wedding to Chanyeol.  Explaining what had happened in every photo.  She looked at each photo with an intense stare as if trying to force something to come back to her.  She looked like she was about to write another question when there was another knock at the door, when they all had turned they saw Mingi and Jongho standing in the doorway.  

“Hello boys, we were just trying to jog y/n’s memory here.” Seonghwa said, smiling at them as they both walked into the room and pulled chairs from the wall to sit at the foot of her bed.  

“Do you remember who we are y/n?”  Jongho asked softly.  She nodded slightly and quickly wrote 

(Mingi and Jongho, but I think that you’re different people than what my brain is telling me.) 

“Maybe,  we’ve been best friends since elementary school.”  Mingi said pulling his phone out.  “Do you want to look at some pictures?”  She nodded yes to his question.  Seonghwa stood up from his spot next to her and said 

“I trust you all to keep a good eye on her, I have other patients to go check on but I will back ok?”  He asked all of them nodded while Mingi took his spot next to y/n. By the time Seonghwa had reached the door, Mingi and Jongho had begun to repeat the same process as Baekhyun trying to get her to remember her past, Little did he know that by the time he would return two hours later to check on her that she would have regained full memory of her past life and had begun to make plans as to where the rest of her life would take her.

[prissyhalliwell]

Cover art done by the “practically perfect in every way” @rumple-belle​! 

Author’s Note: In lots of folklore, iron or metal can hurt fairies or block their magic. To my knowledge, OUAT never addressed this in the show, so I’ve decided to ignore it as well. Just FYI in case anyone was going to nail me (pun intended) on this fact ;)

Summary: The reasons for Belle’s hatred of the Blue Fairy and why she ran away from the Golden Glen are revealed. Read on AO3

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

FOUR MONTHS EARLIER

Bluebelle awoke with a start, blinking blearily in the darkness. It took a couple moments for her eyes to adjust before the familiar surroundings of the library greeted her. She sighed, looking down at the books spread out before her on the table. This wasn’t the first time she’d fallen asleep reading in the library. From the crick in her neck and the near pitch darkness of the room, it was clearly the longest she had ever slept.

It had already been late when the library’s archivist had told her not to stay much longer, leaving Bluebelle alone in the library. It hadn’t bothered her then, since she was used to being the last to leave most nights. At this point, she probably spent more time in the library than the archivists themselves.

But now that her candle had burned out, she was eager to leave. It had to be well after midnight and she knew as well as any fairy that nothing good ever happened in the wee hours of the morning.

She gathered her things, able to find her way around even in the dark. The library and she were old friends by now, and she knew its many shelves and corners as intimately as the scales on her wings. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but she felt she belonged in the library in a way she didn’t with any other part of the glen, apart from the gardens she tended every day. At least, that was the only way she could explain how she always found what she was looking for so easily, or why any book she needed was always stuck out of the shelf an inch or so further than its companions, as if some unknown magic was trying to lend her a hand.

Her peers often teased her for spending so much time among the dusty books and scrolls. But for Bluebelle, the library was a haven where she could escape, exploring all the different lands and realms that were currently barred from her.

She knew the others would laugh at her if they knew of her dreams to leave the Golden Glen and travel the world. After all, the fairy homeland was a literal paradise. Untouched by winter or cold, rays of warm sunshine shown through the trees throughout the year, bathing the glen in a soft golden light. Legend said the first fairy had come into being in these very woods, naming herself and the glen for the bright sunlight that fell upon it.

Every fairy Bluebelle knew was happy to call the Golden Glen home, but all she wanted to do was get away. After all, if one couldn’t leave paradise, how much better was it than a prison?

The only fairies that spent much time outside of the glen were those who became fairy godmothers. Out of the limited paths available to her kind, being a fairy godmother was the only way Bluebelle could imagine herself being able to make a difference and see a different corner of the world.

Until that day came, she would continue to look to her books for adventure.

A low, groaning noise echoed in the empty library and Bluebelle jumped. Her first impulse was to run out of the room, but she steeled herself. If something had gotten inside the library, it was her duty to investigate.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and made her way slowly towards the back of the room. Peering around the corner of a shelf, she startled when she saw Blue entering her private archives, closing the creaking gate behind her.

Relief flowed through her, only to be dammed up a moment later. Why was Blue sneaking around her own personal archives in the dark? The library was nowhere near anyone’s private quarters; she was in no danger of waking anyone by lighting some candles. If Blue required the cover of darkness for what she was doing, something was very wrong.

She watched silently as Blue made her way to the back of the archives, stopping in front of an unadorned wall. A moment later, a full-length mirror materialized in the empty space before her. Blue recited a quick incantation before stepping through the mirror and disappearing from view.

With a gasp, Bluebelle staggered back, falling against the shelf behind her. Blue’s incantation had been in the Old Fairy language, but she had understood every word.

Her leader had just opened a portal into the Dark Realm.  

Was Blue crazy? The Dark Realm was a prison, it’s only function to prevent the Black Fairy from destroying them all. Why in the world would Blue willing walk into it, especially without the support of her fellow fairies?

Something was very, very wrong.

Bluebelle crept up to the gate and pulled, hoping that whatever magic Blue had used had left it unlocked, but it held fast. She sighed, leaning her head against the cool bars. Her brain was yelling at her to retreat, to leave before Blue came back and she got in trouble. But she knew in her gut that this was something she had to do.

Her stubbornness kept her going through the late hours, searching every part of the gate for a weak spot and trying all of the handful of spells she knew to open the door. Exhausted, she retired to a nearby corner of the room where she would be out of sight of anyone emerging from the archives while also being able to keep an eye on the gate. Though tired, she was too amped up to sleep and decided to spend the time wondering what in the hell Blue could be up to.

A noise awoke her some time later. For the second time that night, she struggled to make sense of her surroundings before her memories of earlier that night rushed back. Her eyes shot to the gate and she managed to swallow her yelp of surprise as she saw Blue walk through, waving her hand over the gate before heading back out towards the library entrance.

Bluebelle held her breath until she heard the front door to the library close. She counted slowly to thirty to be absolutely sure Blue was gone, and then made her way over to the gate once again, pulling on the bars. As she had feared, they remained firmly shut.

She let out a frustrated cry. “I need help,” she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. Reaching up with her hands to wipe them away, she turned away from the gate, already wondering how she could get her hands on some extra fairy dust, or even an axe, when the groan of metal reached her ears.

She gasped, whirling around to see that the gate had swung open several inches. She looked back over her shoulder to see if Blue had returned, but the library remained empty. Yet somehow, the gate had opened.

Before the gate could change its mind - or more importantly, before she could change hers - Bluebelle ran through the gate and into Blue’s private library.

Looking around at all the scrolls and ancient texts, her wings fluttered in excitement, her heart pounding at all the knowledge at her fingertips. Unfortunately, the answers she sought were not there. She continued towards the back wall, watching as the mirror appeared before her as it had for Blue. Knowing that her only choice was to step through it to the other side didn’t make it any easier to walk those long steps towards the portal.

Putting one foot in front of the other, whispering her mantra to be brave under her breath, she came within a foot of the mirror before she stopped suddenly. Her reflection looked back at her, and she realized she would be an easy target, walking in blind. Anyone on the other side would easily spot her.

Unless…

She smiled, and a moment later, she was no bigger than the scrolls on the shelves around her. She flapped her wings, lifting off the ground. She recited Blue’s incantation and plunged through the mirror’s surface, into the unknown.

The study that greeted her on the other side was almost a disappointment. She’d expected something more sinister, like a dark, damp prison cell. The room was dark, but far from a squalid cell. Bookshelves, chairs and a large desk filled the room, their ornately carved wood so dark it almost looked black in the low light. The bookshelves were filled to the brim, and the books’ spines were the only real color in the room, apart from the deep crimson cushions that sat upon the chairs.

It reminded her a bit of Blue’s study the few times she had been there, except more opulent. Blue’s tastes were a bit more austere.

She breathed a sigh of relief that she was alone. She flew a bit further towards the desk, looking around carefully.

“Who are you?”

She squeaked, diving under the desk for cover.

“I won’t hurt you,” said the voice gently. A moment later, a boy emerged from the shadows. “Are you here to save us?”

She stayed hidden under the desk. “Us?”

“Me and the other children.” He paused. “Don’t you know where you are?”

“The Dark Realm. It’s a prison for the Black Fairy.”

He laughed, but it sounded all wrong. Instead of the carefree laugh of a youth, it rang with bitterness that should have been beyond his years.

“She isn’t a prisoner here; she’s the warden!” He looked over his shoulder and Bluebelle followed his gaze, seeing a closed door across the room for the first time. “None of us can leave. We’re her prisoners.”

Bluebelle’s heart caught in her throat. She flew out from under the desk, stopping when she was level with the boy.

“The Blue Fairy came through here just a little while ago,” she said, afraid she already knew the answer to her next question. “Why?”

The boy met her gaze openly. “Because she helped create the Dark Realm. She’s the reason half the children are here in the first place, including me. They make us work down in the mines, harvesting the dark fairy dust for them.”

Righteous anger coursed through her at his words. This wasn’t right. She had to do something.

“I could help you escape! The mirror is a portal - ”

“It won’t work. Believe me, I’ve tried everything. I think they put spells on us to keep us from escaping.”

“I’ll have to get more help somehow.” She wasn’t sure who or how, but she would find a way. Another thought came to her and she blushed. “My name is Bluebelle, by the way.”

He took a step back. “Are you related to Blue?”

“No, no, I’m not,” she reassured him. “It’s just the name I was given. I’ve always kind of disliked it, actually.”

He cringed. “I don’t blame you. The second part is nice though. You could just go by that.”

“Belle?” She tried out the sound of it. Yes, she liked that much better. After everything she had learned tonight, she certainly didn’t want any more ties to Blue than she already had. “Thank you,” she said, feeling grateful to this strange boy. “What is your name? Is there anyone you want me to contact for you back home? Family, perhaps?”

He shook his head. “There’s no need for that. And, uh...Neal. You can call me Neal.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Neal.” A noise sounded in the hallway outside the room and their eyes both darted towards it. “I think I should get going.”

“You’ll come back? You won’t abandon us, right?”

“I’ll find a way to help, I promise.”

He looked at her calculatingly, as if weighing how much he could trust her.

“There’s a wand,” he said suddenly, “The Black Fairy has half of an old wand. If you can find the other half, maybe you can defeat her.”

It was clear the amount of trust he was placing in her by sharing such a secret. She was more determined than ever not to let him down.

The sounds in the hallway grew closer.

“I’ll look for it,” Belle said hurriedly. “As soon as I can figure out how to defeat them, I’ll return.”

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile before darting back to the mirror. The surface ripped as she got close, and she was able to pass through freely.

When she emerged on the other side, she looked around nervously, half expecting Blue to be waiting for her. Thankfully, the library was still dark and empty.

Taking a deep breath, she made herself think logically. Feelings of hurt, betrayal, and disgust warred under the surface, but she knew she couldn’t let those out yet, or she would crumple under the weight of them. Right now, she had a short amount of time to look through Blue’s private archive, and hopefully find something that might help her. Then -

Belle shook her head. She’d figure out “then” later.

She unshrank herself first, feeling instantly better to be at a normal size. She walked deeper into the archives, figuring Blue would keep her most important materials as far from prying eyes as possible.

Belle continued until she’d reached the back corner, looking around until her eyes fell upon a velvet cushion sitting on an upper shelf.

Her mouth fell open. Displayed as if it were a medal, a piece of ancient carved wood lay innocently upon the cushion.

“The Golden Fairy’s wand,” Belle whispered reverently. She’d only ever heard stories of it. Blue had always said it had been lost. Yet here it was.

It was only when she stepped closer that she realized her mistake. The piece before her was only half of a wand. She could see where it had been broken off from its other half.

Neal’s words came back to her in a rush. Somehow the Black Fairy had the other half of her mother’s wand. Belle wasn’t sure how that had happened or how the wand had been broken in the first place. Was anything of the stories she’d been told still true?  

She reached out a hand, certain that some spell would be triggered and the whole of the fairy army would come running. Her hand closed around the wand and she let out a sigh of relief when nothing happened. She was still in one piece and so far no army had broken down the gate to arrest her.

She drew it away from its resting place, staring at it in awe. There was a slight hum of power to it, even in its broken condition. Belle couldn’t imagine what it had been like when whole. She shivered.

Tucking it into her pocket felt rather blasphemous, but she didn’t have much choice. She still needed to search the rest of the archives.

Thirty minutes later, Belle hadn’t found much else of use. She’d found plenty that had chilled her further - dark fairy spells that hadn’t seen the light of day in hundreds of years and did all sorts of unnatural things, like combining that which was never meant to be put together and separating that which was never meant to be pulled apart - but nothing that she could use to free the children.

An intricate wooden clock with metal gears told her there were only a couple hours left before her fellow fairies would awaken. She’d thought it wrong when she’d first seen it, as she’d only spent a few minutes in the Dark Realm, and it indicated hours had passed instead. Then she’d remembered her research in the past into other realms and how they sometimes operated at different speeds. It was entirely possible that time moved quicker here than in the Dark Realm. Hadn’t she waited hours for Blue to reemerge?

There were other gears on the clock as well, ones she didn’t understand. She had a hunch that one of them was counting down to something, but unfortunately, she didn’t have the time to figure out what. She needed to get out of the library and soon.

Not just out of the library, Belle realized with a start. She’d need to leave the glen entirely.

But where could she go? Blue would notice that the wand was missing eventually. Belle would have to go somewhere she could be safe from her. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Blue was revered throughout the Enchanted Forest. Almost everyone, including Belle, had bought into her holier-than-thou act. The only one who really hated her was -

No. She couldn’t do that. It was unthinkable. It was out of the question. Just because Blue had turned out to be evil didn’t mean Belle could trust someone else who was probably just as evil.

After all, the Dark One dealt in children as well. While he didn’t necessarily kidnap them or force them into slave labor in mines, he did win them in deals with desperate families. No, she couldn’t trust him.

A smile formed on Belle’s face. She didn’t have to trust him. She just needed to break into his library. It was said to rival the fairies’ own library and contain the largest collection of dark, magical texts in the entire Enchanted Forest. If she couldn’t find something there to fight Blue or reunite the wand, she wouldn’t find it anywhere.

Belle closed the book on transformation quietly. It seemed she had a long flight ahead of her.

Author's Note: Well, did I surprise anyone? ;)

[ncttrashaf]

Withered | Yuta

A/N: This was by far, the hardest for me to write. And not for having difficulty writing, but because of how stunned it left ME. This is not suitable for all kinds of readers. So, if you say you’re uncomfortable, please keep away. Please drop by the ask box to let me know how you felt about it. Also, if necessary, reblog with your opinion. This is something I worked somewhat hard to write, so I really want opinions :)))) - Admin Ayu ♥

Characters: Yuta, OC, Jaehyun. Genre: Romance, Angst, Slight Smut, Cussing. Word Count: 5,401 ***Please don’t read it if you’re sensitive to the concept of abuse and violence***

 Withered Smoke

I looked at him as he put his fifth cigarette of the night between his lips, shaking my head slightly in disapproval.

  "I am killing myself," he said as I would have said it, igniting his cigarette with the lighter I had once gifted him, a decision I regretted then, "I have nothing to live for, babe."

   I wanted to tell him that he had me, but again I was in no state to do so. I could never guarantee him a commitment as my life spiralled around the little relation I had left with a man I barely talked with back at home.

  "What's the point of killing yourself over a woman who spends her night with you just because she's an insomniac and has nothing better to do?" I asked as my palm wrapped around the neck of the whiskey bottle.

  "Don't flatter yourself babe, you're not worth dying over." he laughed.

  I smiled half-heartedly at his statement, discarding the empty bottle in the trashcan on the other side of the balcony. The cold wind blew and his oversized dress shirt hovered, exposing my naked lower half beneath. Even with my back turned, I could feel his eyes on me.

  "It's weird that your man doesn't love you," he said as he ran his fingers through his unkempt hair, "That man is crazy."

"Why," I mused as I turned around, "I'm not in love with him either, yet there are women out there who would kill to marry him."

  "That's what sets you apart..." he said as looked at his cigarette, burning to its end, "I used to feel furious before every time I ran out of these, but it's nice now. You bring me packets even when you disapprove."

  These were the most expensive cigarettes out in the market. I’d rather he died from expensive cigarettes than those cheap ones.

  "Wanna head in?"

  "Yes."

  He picked me up and laid me down in bed before closing the door behind him as he left. He knew I hated sharing bed.

I woke up to the calm but consistent alarm set on my cell phone. It was five in the morning when I set my feet down on the cold ground and quietly made my way over to his washroom. When I had first come to his house, it was cold and dreary. It felt like home since mine was no different either.

  “The idea of coming here scares me. It’s like I cannot escape obscured void set upon any household due to some unsaid turmoil within the four walls.”

  His brows crinkled as he turned on the lights to his apartment, looking at me as he derided, “How much do you get paid to talk like that?”

  For a long time then, I hadn’t known how it felt to laugh briefly over a friendly insult. All my activities were then highly commercial, thus all my expressions were anything far from personal. I had lost passion for my profession after the death of my daughter, which unfortunately resulted in even the little kindling love erupting between me and my husband, Jung Jaehyun, to die. We then just lived in the same mansion, somewhat too lazy to go through the tiresome procedure of divorce and fretting the seclusion that will cut into life and annihilate the littlest amount of it left as paparazzi and media start haunting both our individual existences.

  And thus, life went on quite drearily. We woke up, went to work, came back home and ate, and slept.

  He would often spend the night in his apartment on the other side of the night, with unnamed women who I probably saw around at work. We both had grown to accept the fact that our lives just moved along the same track but were not to be merged. People had picked up on that and never interrogated us on our personal lives, and we had learnt to accommodate our peace with that.

  However, one night I randomly wore one of my sultriest outfits and went to a club with my friend. And there, I met him.

  Nakamoto Yuta was seven years younger yet a soul just as lost as me. He and I bonded at first when he gave me a little review of what cocktail he’d want a lady to drink, and I liked it. In a while, my friend was long forgotten and I was talking to a 24-year-old struggling musician who was new in town and wouldn’t get signed because of his musical style, frowned upon by the youngsters then who only bought music they could dance to.

  “They say my music would have earned me millions if it were 1980’s or 90’s, but it’s an era where people only want to sing and dance and do stupid stuff unmindfully.” He spat out as he put another cigarette in between his lips, “Do you happen to have a lighter?”

  I shook my head with an apologetic smile, and for the first time in quite a while I felt my heart flutter when the corner of his lip curved in a smile as his eyes complemented, “That’s okay, I broke mine earlier tonight.”

  The next time we met, I had a lighter for him. He seemed ecstatic, childishly throwing away the lighter he had hurriedly bought and securing mine in his jeans pocket instead.

  “You could’ve let me have it.” As the words left my lips, I shyly smiled, and my mind screamed at me.

  He looked down at me with a boyish smile, something that I had left behind years ago, and walked closer to me. Cupping my face with his right hand, he caressed my cheek with his thumb, “Are you sure your husband would approve of this?”

  That’s when it hit me. Of course, he had no right to complain since he himself had several mistresses. But should I be the same as him, stoop just as low?

  I lightly shoved his hand off my cheek, “You’re right… I- I’m sorry, I’ll be going now!” I mumbled quietly as I picked my purse up and started my way toward the door, not minding to let my friend know of my sudden departure.

  A week passed by as I avoided his texts, all of them filled with apologies as he relented that he was wrong to have questioned my position without having any prior knowledge of my situation. I replied with, ‘It’s okay.’ and he didn’t bother to continue anymore.

  On the tenth night, my sleep was harshly broken as the alarms rung loud and woke the entire estate. My husband was away for the night, out with one of his mistresses and I resorted to get a much needed sleep. I wore my peach robe hurriedly as I ran down to the gate to find out who could’ve dared to intrude such a guarded estate. It was known all around the town that the security system we used was the most expensive, and that trying to trespass our borders could mean mortal peril in case of excessive courage shown on the part of the intruder. So who in their right mind would do that?

  Of course, someone who was new in town.

  I rushed to the door as I heard him plead to let him see me once, “She knows me, I’m a friend. Please let me see Mrs. Jung for once!”

  “Security, let him be!” I ordered, “He’s an acquaintance, help him in please.”

  They let go of his collar and begged for his apology as he shot them a glare, walking toward me. I let him in and dragged him to the north wing.

  “What are you doing here at,” I took a glance at my thin watch which hung lazily by my wrist, “two in the friggin’ morning?”

  “I… I wanted to apologise-”

  “I said it’s okay-”

  “Hush,” he put his finger on my lips gently before taking my free hand in his, “Let me finish first. The thing is, I am new to this town and I only know about the big people here, that’s it. I knew about you, too. When I first came up to you and told you what cocktail to order it was because I wanted to impress you and get your husband sign a contract with me or something… then you started flirting and I thought you’re one of those rich women who get a younger boo to play with.”

  I sighed and my jaws tightened at his harsh judgment.

  “Come on don’t look at me like that, let me finish please!” he took my hands in his, “Despite of how I felt after having only met you twice, I just made sure you weren’t bitter as I sent you those texts and dismissed the idea. Till your best friend confronted me tonight.”

  “Oh Roane…” I chided, exasperated.

  “I’m… how do you live like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “How do you live with a man you don’t even love?”

  I smiled sadly and looked down at our hands, timid to part.

  “How do you live with a man who doesn’t love you and spends night after night with other women?”

  “Well,” I tightened my hold on his hands, “I… I don’t know… anymore.” I looked into his eyes so that he understood what I meant. That being attracted to a man had led me to live in a manner I hadn’t for years. I didn’t need direct contact of love since I had some investing toward a certain person from myself. I finally had a man I could think of as I touched myself, not-so-unenthusiastically anymore, after years.

  “Y/n…” he whispered softly, before taking me in his arms. I hugged his torso as he held me gently. For a moment I had fret over how he was probably using me, but then I heard his heart thumping against his chest, and my suspicions withered away. That night we stayed up till the sun rose, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Even though our meetings from then on had become more frequent and suggestive, it took me some time to let us be physically intimate. It was one night when I had let him in our house that it rained cats and dogs. Later, when it became more bearable and one anyone could jog in, I took his hand in mine, “Let’s kiss in the rain.”

  He laughed at my proposition, mocking my sudden change of mood since I was complaining even a moment ago then that I felt terribly cold.

  “I’m serious,” I insisted, “It’ll be our first kiss, Yuta!”

  He looked into my eyes as he bit the inside of his mouth, pondering over my inane whim. I tried my best to look at him with more fervour to convince him. He groaned in playful frustration as he pulled me up and walked both of us into the balcony.

  I hugged myself as the raindrops hit my skin, immersing through the robe and lapping itself on my goosebumps.

  He laughed at me, teasing me lightly for how I was the one who had come up with the idea and yet was feeling colder than him. I frowned and chose to look away, somehow suddenly growing conscious of my queer idea for a first kiss, realising that such a sudden whim was childish and probably a turnoff for a man as matured and soulful as him.

  “We were supposed to kiss, if I’m not wrong.” Yuta broke in my trail of thoughts, smiling as he observed my sudden change in demeanour. I took a look at his stance; his arms folded and one of his heels resting on the ground. He looked gorgeous as he stood in that position, making me feel like a teenager who found herself agitated before her good-looking upperclassman. But again, he was younger.

  “Let it be, it’s a stupid idea anyway.” I started walking away, but didn’t get far as he caught onto my wrist and gently pulled me back toward him. My arms rested against his chest as he removed himself to stand before me. Holding my chin, he raised my face to his and rested his lips on mine. It was a simple kiss, nothing urgent or fervent. He knew exactly how much I could take at that point, and refused to pressurise me into more.

  His lips left mine quite suddenly, his breathing heavy. The kiss in no way was intense, but he seemed to be struggling harder by the time I opened my eyes.

  “Can- can we go in?” his teeth were clanking as he spoke, his intakes of breath sharp and severe.

  I helped him in as he showed tendencies of collapsing, his body unbelievably cold as welts appeared drastically all around his arms and chest. I panicked and my illiteracy on his sudden illness sickened me, asking him if I should get a doctor.

  “Just- just prepare a warm bath.”

  I helped him undress and into the warm bath, my hand holding his as he relaxed before my eyes. After an hour, I saw his welts subsiding, the redness diminishing, and his temperature rising back to normal.

  As he sighed in relief and the gaps between the rise and fall of his chest thinned, I inquired, “What was that?”

  “Urticaria.”

  I googled the term after having helped him put on my husband’s clothes and drying his hair as he pulled the duvet up to his chin. He was allergic to rain water, and he still kissed me in the rain just because he wanted to attend the childish whim of a 31-year-old. I sighed and I put my head in my hands, guilt taking over my entire form as my neck heated up. He touched my back, murmuring weakly that it was okay, pulling onto my nightdress to have me lay down with him. Though I was never really into the idea, I gave in.

  I woke up in surprise as I countered my opinions on sleeping with a partner.

That's how my husband found out I had a man of my own then, when he found a set of the clothing he had readied up to wear later in the washing machine. He didn't say a word about it till I asked him if it was okay, to which he replied, "When was it never okay? I have my own life, you are entitled to yours." 

   And, I trusted him. 

   The first time we made love was also him attending to a whim of mine, which had me blushing furiously as I shook my head and told him that I was merely pulling his leg, that not for a second had serenity taken over my mind when I proposed to him that we made love beneath the full moon in the balcony of my bedroom. 

   He kissed me silent as his hands crept up my sides before his fingers dug in my hair. My hands wrapped around his waist as his lips left mine to leave a trail of kisses up and down the sides of my neck, pausing to suck on the crook of my neck as he marked me shamelessly. He took a woman who hadn't had anything but a finger inside her for five years then, pumping his own length in and out cautiously as his groans in the crook of the other side of my neck sent waves of warmth all across my body. We made love thrice that night, toward the end so exhausted that the fact that he had to leave before my husband came back was totally forgotten.

  My husband returned to us sharing a duvet, snoring softly with our legs entangled. My head rested on his bicep as his off the pillow, hanging off its side. The one in charge of our bedroom woke us up, saying a very unemotional and cold Jaehyun had asked her to wake us up and request him out of the estate by the gateway in the back. I decided to act like the maid had warned me to send him off before my husband could make inside the room. He complied, kissing me goodbye.

  Encountering Jaehyun after that was probably the most awkward situation I had ever put myself in. As he sipped his coffee and swiped his finger across the screen of his tab, turning on a live news channel, he started, "I get that you did not surely want to get caught by your husband in such a scandalous condition with someone who's a singer under our label," his smugness smeared my ego as he continued, "Thus I would prefer it if you and your boyfriend got yourselves an apartment. I can get one for you-" 

   "I really appreciate it Jaehyun," I put my hand on his, "But you really don't have to." I smiled as my eyes shot the impression of my temper, finishing my breakfast in a hurry and leaving for work just after. 

   I received a text from Yuta during my lunch break, informing that he was done with recording earlier that day and would like to meet me in his penthouse that was given to him by the company. I took it upon myself to not slack off and finish my own work just as early before sending Jaehyun a text that said, 'I won't be home tonight', and leaving.

   That night, I found a new side to him. Apart from his spectacular and somewhat unique humour, he also had a very sharp tongue. He was playful but so thoughtful, matured but still so youthful, his smile so pure yet so capable of making my insides burn in fire, my nether regions wet to the point where I felt the need to keep spare panties in my purse. But again, he was kind enough to buy a stack of supplies for me and keep them at his place.

   After three or four months from then, he let me know that he loved me. I was so happy for a moment until I realised that giving him a false hope would be unkind and cruel. I couldn't bring myself to tell him I loved him back, I couldn't bring myself to put him in bliss and break his heart right after.

    "Yuta... I- I feel the same way for you, but I'm afraid I can't say it back." 

   He looked crestfallen and his jaw fell softly, "But... why-" 

   "Remember how you once asked me how I lived with a man I didn't love? Even ten years ago I was certain that I wouldn't marry a man unless I was madly in love with him. 

   "And I ended up marrying him because of a petty fling which impregnated me. For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to abort or put her up for adoption and nor could he reject the idea of a beautiful child from his mind. We believed that if we got married and started to live as one with a child of our own, one we both loved, things would get better. We believed, we would fall in love. 

   "But she died in less than a year, and left us heartbroken. You would expect us to tend to each other, cry together, come closer... but we grew even more distant. I stopped singing and started working with him to help the recording label to grow, in hopes of making it something bigger. And, it happened... he is now a genius in the showbiz and I am a high-profile businesswoman who deals with this company and a few other small and big firms. But... we are not in love."

   "But... you do love-" 

   "Don't say it," I cautioned him, "It will just get harder for me... Yuta, I may not be happy, but I'm used to this lifestyle. I'm oddly comfortable with this life, so empty and uneventful. Somehow, it gives me the idea that I don't have to expect surprises or dread changes. It's chaotic in my mind, but peaceful outside."

   "Are you afraid that I might invite chaos outside?" 

   "Not you in particular, but a change..."

   He loved me yet, chose to stay with me even after all my doubts and insecurities. But, he was not entirely the same ever.

  Which brings us back to the morning. As I readied myself, prepared to leave, I felt this strange rush from my guts approaching my throat. A burp that left my nose filled with a sickening smell from the inside had me rushing toward the pan in the toilet and letting everything I had eaten the night before out. I felt dizzier than ever, reaching out to the sink and holding onto its side as I emptied my stomach. After a minute or so of this torture, I cleaned myself up, gargled and brushed my teeth again, and used mouthwash to make sure my breath didn’t smell stale before a meeting that would kick-start the day.

  It wasn’t before 6’0 clock, that I could finally turn the knob of the bedroom door and step out. Down the hallway, in the smallest bedroom, slept Yuta. I took one look at him from afar before leaving him a much-practised note, and drove back home.

  Fear was creeping up my mind as I realised that I hadn’t been on my period for almost three months then. Focusing on the meeting had become the least of my worries as I picked on the hem of my skirt and thought of the consequences.

  “Um… Mrs. Jung,” I heard a stern voice from my left, and it belonged to my husband, “It’s a meeting and you, being the CEO, need to focus.” he said with a smile, his eyes fixated on mine and hardened at my unexpected conduct. I straightened my back and mumbled an apology, focusing on the matter in hand.

  Toward the end of the day, I booked myself an appointment with an acquaintance. She was my doctor when I was pregnant with my daughter, and confirming my doubt with her assistance seemed the most convenient.

  “You’re pregnant, Mrs. Jung. Congratulations!” she took my hands in hers as she let me know. My child was one of her earliest deliveries, and the first she had to see die before her own eyes. Somehow, she was happier about it than I was, even with the knowledge that no matter what happens I was going to keep the baby.

  “Thank you so much.” I smiled kindly, trying to push away all pessimistic thoughts off my mind for the time being.

  “Do you want me to perform a sonogram on you?” she asked, standing up to make necessary calls and setting up the cabin, certainly not caring a bit of what I wanted.

  I laid in silence as she hummed happily, gawking at the screen, “The embryo is developing inside the womb. You’ve been pregnant for approximately 11 weeks, and everything seems fine!”

  Before I left, she handed me a CD, having recorded the entire procedure for my ‘husband’ to see. Yes, he definitely needed to see, or at least know.

  I drove back home that night to find a rather cranky Jaehyun. Despite the night being his to philander, he waited for me to arrive and sat me down before him to talk.

  “Y/n, I hate to say this but ever since you got together with that kid you’ve been a lesser performer. You are the main driving force of the company, we cannot afford to lose you.”

  “I��� I apologise, Jaehyun.” I had no excuses, he was right. Having never interfered in my life for years, it certainly must have taken him a lot from me to finally interject.

  “You have nothing to apologise for, I think that boy is toxic.” he grumbled, “I never thought I’d be saying this, but I want you to breakup with that kid.”

  I felt my neck heat up as my body started to tremble in inexplicable rage, “You are NO ONE to decide that, Jaehyun! I will start working better, I swear. But, you need to keep your filthy nose out of my business!”

  “Why can’t I trust you?” he inquired, biting his bottom lip; something he did to hold in his annoyance, “I have seen you breaking apart over the littlest things and you never regained your previous performance.”

  “If you’re talking about my baby, just so you know it was not a ‘little-”

  “For fuck’s sake, y/n!” his voice rose, “Don’t always make it about yourself, I also lost a child! I was her father, don’t you dare forget.”

  “Wow Jaehyun, suddenly your father instincts are on board!” I chimed, “Where were you when I needed someone by my side to cry with, when I needed someone who could possibly understand how I felt and help me deal with it?”

  “Don’t act like you weren’t expecting this,” he warned, “We were never in love-”

  “Jaehyun I still remember you telling me you loved me-”

  “For heaven’s sake, you were the mother of my child then!”

  I rose to my feet, “So, the moment she died I lost all importance to you? All I ever was to you was your company’s largest earning source, your fuck-buddy, and later on just the mother of your child? Did I never, in our ten years spent together, ever amount to as just myself to you?”

  He smirked as humiliation seeped through his eyes, “No, you never amounted to me for being yourself. You were never a person who ever had any value to me, whatsoever.” by then, he was on his feet, looking down at me.

  “Fine,” my voice trembled as I spoke, “We’re getting a divorce.”

  “What?” he sounded livid, turning red as his lips trembled, “After all these years, you’re asking for a divorce?”

  “Yes!” my hands balled into fists, “I was going to talk with you about it anyway… but honestly, you don’t deserve to be treated with a decent conversation with ANYONE.”

  “You’re one to talk, going after some kid!” he laughed mockingly.

  “Wow… when you sleep with 20-year-olds it’s completely okay, because the society approves of stinky, gross old men taking advantage of even  mere 15-year-olds. And I cannot have a healthy relationship with an adult in his mid-twenties without being branded as an offender. Which century do you live in Jaehyun, 16th?”

  “Don’t you fucking dare cross your lines, y/n!” he wagged his finger at me, “After all I did for you, this is how you ‘thank’ me? If I hadn’t noticed you in that crowd, you’d be somewhere singing with your eyes down on your empty guitar case to keep the five dollar you’ve earned on check.”

  “Don’t act like I didn’t come to use. You made millions with me Jaehyun, millions. I helped you grow your company. I earned all the opportunities that came.”

  “Wow, you’re one to talk…” he trailed off, his hands landing on his hips as he looked around to find words, “Listen, we’re not getting a divorce. It’s not as easy as you think, you little bitch.”

  My jaw fell as I stared at him in disbelief, “What did you say?”

  He laughed, “Bitch.” He pronounced firmly, and if looks could kill, his condescending gaze would have had me in shambles by then.

  “YOU BASTARD!” I shrieked as I pushed him with all the strength left in me. He fell down into the sofa, the back of his head hitting the wooden crest rail.

  He rose to his feet yet again, his right hand reaching behind his head to check for any swelling, before he yanked it from there and slapped me right across my face.

  I tumbled and fell on the marble floor, hitting my elbows and knees, my right thigh numb as the pain seared through my entire leg.

  “Don’t you dare push me, you whore!” he threatened and laughed shortly. And how I hated it when his pompous ass shone through.

  I got on my feet as quietly as I could before launching myself at him, pulling on his hair and digging my teeth mercilessly on his shoulder. He was struggling to get me off, shouting profanities all directed at me, enough to rile me up and make him bleed, my teeth having torn through his linen white shirt.

  Legends said Jaehyun had the strength of an animal, which I was yet to see. After a while he regained composure and banged my hard against the wall, the frame hung hitting my head as he navigated it harshly with his hand to not hit his. I could feel my scalp dampening and the feeling began to spread, my hair sticking to my neck as I bled profusely.

  I knew for a fact that he didn’t intend to do that, but my mind didn’t. Enraged, I grabbed a flower vase on the wall shelf beside me, where I was sat then. Before he could even turn, I grabbed it swiftly and smashed it in his head.

  He grabbed the sides of his head and stumbled forward as I kicked him in the ass. His hands landed on the sofa as he took in deep breaths before checking for blood, which most certainly was oozing even more profusely. Only then did I realise, I wasn’t bleeding as bad as I had thought.

  He called me ‘a fucking bitch’, his voice roaring throughout the entire library, as he took two long strides and started strangling me. His hold around my neck kept on tightening as his jaws clenched, his eyes then brimming with tears as he gave his all in choking me.

  For a moment I wanted to give up and not struggle anymore, accept death as a lifelong comrade. That’s when it hit me, I had a baby inside me.

  “I-” I tried to speak, but I couldn’t. I held onto his wrists, digging my nails into his forearm, feeling his grip loosening very slightly.

  “Any last word, bitch?” he asked, loosening his grip voluntarily, enough to let me speak but not to let me escape.

  “I’m fucking pregnant, you bastard!” I croaked out, “You’re killing a pregnant woman!”

  His hands let go off my neck, and he took several steps back. The tears which were in his eyes started pooling his face as he looked down at his hands. He was finally able to register what he was doing as I coughed myself to some life.

  “I’m-”

  “Don’t you fucking dare say anything, I’m reporting you to the police.” I broke down in tears as my hands ran across marks I was certain his fingers had left. I looked up at him from the ground, my face twisted in disgust.

  He quietly limped toward the table at the centre of the library, bending down to open a drawer. He took out a very thick book and placed it carefully on the table. I stared at him, confused. After taking several deep breaths in, he opened the book, and took out a gun.

  I stared in horror as he unlocked the safety mechanism of the gun, gasping as tears unknowingly left my eyes. My entire body trembled as he raised the gun, aiming at my head.

  I could see his entire body quiver as he cried silently, struggling to pull the trigger and kill me. I closed my eyes, preparing myself for the end, my body then not being able to register any strength that could help me even attempt an escape. I took deep breaths in my nose and exhaled heavily as the seconds ticked by leisurely.

  My entire body jerked as I heard a gunshot. I opened my eyes to find Jaehyun on the floor, the gun then left estranged beside his hand. In a second or two, his blood pooled on the floor, trickling down the two steps of stairs as it spread across the entire room.

  “No…” was all I could whimper, before I felt my eyes fluttering shut as my senses withdrew. My mind went blank as darkness enveloped me, and I passed out.

Please read the last tag - Ayu.

[my-tatteredwingsof-freedom]

The Keith x Mothman fic no one asked for

Yep. I’m started a Keith/Mothman series and this is the first part.

Link to my Ao3 here 

Title: I Actually found him

Rating: G

Fandom: Voltron

Summary: Keith finds Mothman and their romance begins

West Virginia. Not the first place most people thought of when they decided to take a vacation, but Keith Kogane certainly wasn’t like most people. West Virginia was the ideal spot for him, and who cared if Shiro complained during the whole drive, or if Allura had looked close to mortified when Keith had told her they were going so he could find The Mothman? They were just boring anyways, if you asked Keith. That’s why they were in the hotel room and Keith was out doing the real work.

He’d been inside his small tent, flashlight in one hand and a book in the other for the past four hours. It was pitch black outside, nearing eleven. He had his sleeping bag wrapped tightly around himself and his laptop was running beside him, the screen displaying the image his cameras were recording outside. So far, he hadn’t seen anything other than some deer and birds, but he was patient.

He was actually really excited, and couldn’t help himself from checking the camera every few seconds. This was the first summer in...well, ever, that he had the money and the resources to actually do this. He was actually really thankful Shiro had agreed to come with him, even if his older brother had looked at him like he was crazy. Shiro wa supportive though, which was something Keith would be eternally thankful for. He’d make it up to Shiro and Allura as soon as they returned home. For now, though, he needed to find Mothman. That was the goal and he was pretty sure he’d cry if he didn’t find at least one small sign.

He’d been obsessed with The Mothman ever since he was in middle school, after catching one of those late night documentaries one saturday night when he and Shiro had been left home alone. There wasn’t really any way for Keith to explain why he had been so enamoured. Maybe it was the mystery behind it all, the fact that the creature had shown up and disappeared altogether. Or maybe it was the chaos that had followed after the creature’s visit. Maybe Keith just really, really liked weird, mysterious things. He was friends with Lance after all.

It was cold, though, even if it was summer time. Keith checked the screen again, met with the same nightvision scene from a few minutes earlier. He sighed and tossed his book aside, shutting off the flashlight as he settled into his sleeping bag for the night. It was quiet, but it was a kind of quiet that Keith welcomed. His and Shiro’s apartment was right on a busy corner by the college, so there was always noise. Not to mention they usually had a full house most days if they weren’t all busy with their studies. Lance and Hunk always made it a point to come over as often as possible, unless they were going on a date night, and Pidge and Matt were there nearly every weekend. They didn’t get quiet that often, especially at night, and Keith was honestly relieved.

It was almost comical that he would probably get the best night of sleep in his life while curled up in a ratty sleeping bag, in the middle of the woods in West Virginia. Unbelievable.

He drifted in and out of sleep, despite the ideal sleeping conditions presented to him. He wasn’t uncomfortable or anything, just unable to sleep. He kept lifting his head to check his computer screen only to groan softly when nothing appeared. He tried to ignore the disappointment gnawing at him; it was still early by cryptid time, wasn’t it? Surely Mothman wouldn’t be out yet. It was way too early and Keith had to be patient .

The ringing of his cellphone startled him out of a light sleep and he sat up, cursing under his breath as he felt around for his phone in the sleeping bag. He answered it, huffing. “Hello?”

“Keith, are you still out there?” Shiro sounded like he was getting ready for bed, voice heavy.

Keith blinked and rolled his eyes, running his free hand through his hair. “Yeah, where else would I be?”

“Right,” Shiro might have been smiling. “You sure you don’t want to come back to the hotel room? You might get cold or sick or something.”

“It’ll be worth it if I see him.” Keith replied with a lazy shrug, staring at his computer screen. Everything was the same as before; the woods were quiet and the camera showed nothing but still grass and a few gnats rushing by. “Besides it isn’t that cold; it’s about the same as it would be if we left the AC on in the apartment over night.”

Shiro hummed and Keith was sure he was worrying, as always. “Well, alright. Keep your phone on. Allura and I can come get you whenever if you change your mind tonight.”

“I know. I’ll be fine, Shiro.” Keith assured. “I’ll meet up with you two in the morning and- holy shit !”

“Keith?!”

Keith nearly dropped his phone, wide eyes locked on his laptop screen. He’d seen it! A red eyed blur flew right by the camera and he’d seen it!

“Keith!”

“Shit, Shiro, I just saw something on my camera and I’m dying.” He rushed out as he struggled out of his sleeping bag.”I’m gonna go check it out.”

“What? Keith, no! Stay in your tent if something’s out there!”

“Shiro, the whole reason I’m out here is for something to show up!” Keith was already pushing out of his tent, running towards the clearing up ahead where he had set up his camera. He could hear thrashing, like something big was struggling. “Holy crap it sounds huge.”

“Allura, get the keys- Keith go back to your tent!”

“Shiro, this is amazing!” Keith was grinning so wide that his face hurt. “Shiro, I’ll call you back.”

Shiro had started to reply but Keith hung up, shoving his phone into his sweater pocket as he ran faster. The thrashing sounds were louder now, followed by a startlingly loud screeching sound. It made Keith slow down as he followed the noise, stopping entirely by a tree. The tree hid his view, so wide that he probably couldn’t get his arms around it if he tried. He hesitated here and bit his lip, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

This...this was it. There was a fifty percent chance that when he stepped around this tree, the object of his dreams would be there in plain sight. However, that also meant there was a fifty percent chance that whatever was making that noise wasn’t Mothman, and Keith wasn’t sure how he would react to that. He ran a hand through his hair and steeled his nerves, sucking in a breath and running out from behind the tree.

The screeching sounds ceased, bright red eyes gawking at Keith in the moonlight. Keith let out a shaky breath and stepped closer, eyes following the outline of the black mass before him. It was writhing around, flapping wings wildly, and had it not been for the moonlight Keith wouldn’t have noticed the thick strings wrapped around the creature’s wings and torso and even it’s feet. Keith stood there, watching the creature thrash around, until those red eyes turned to him again, and he heard a soft, pleading coo come from the creature.

He blinked a few times and stepped closer, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “M….Mothman?”

It nodded it’s head jerkily, flapping it’s wings again and making the same soft, pitiful sound. Keith dropped to his knees and lifted a hand, hesitating before he gently stroked the top of Mothman’s rough, fuzzy head. “Okay, calm down. I’ll help you but you’ve gotta stop moving…”

Mothman grew still and it took Keith all he had not to jump for joy; Mothman understood him and listened to him! He smiled a bit and nodded, moving his hands down to feel at the thick strings wrapped around Mothman’s body. He squinted and pulled out his phone, shining the light at the strings. “Did you get caught in someone’s clothesline?” He asked softly.

Mothman squirmed a bit, the claws on his feet clenching and unclenching as he waited patiently. Keith leaned back and set his phone aside, reaching into the other pocket and pulling out the pocket knife Shiro had insisted he take with him; he’d have to thank Shiro later. The blade flicked open and Mothman jerked, making a loud screech as he started thrashing around again.

“Hey, no, it’s okay!” Keith rushed, gesturing to the knife. “I’m just gonna cut the clothesline, okay? I promise.” He set his free hand on the creature’s torso, watching as it grew still again. Red eyes narrowed at the pocket knife and then darted to Keith’s face and Keith smiled slightly. “I promise. I waited my whole life to see you; I’d never do anything to hurt you, Mothman. You just have to hold really still, okay?”

Keith took it slow, gently sliding the blade under the clothesline and sawing through it gently. Mothman waited patiently, though he was a bit stiff; Keith could understand, though. He was just glad he could keep his hands still enough considering how badly they’d been shaking only moments before. He was still in shock. Mothman was here. In front of him. Keith was helping Mothman. He was literally helping free the cryptid of his dreams.

He could die entirely happy right now.

When the last of the clothesline was cut off Mothman wasted no time standing up, towering high above Keith. Keith’s eyes widened and he leaned back, carefully putting his knife back into his pocket. “You’re taller than I imagined…”

Mothman tilted his head, wings stretching out before he tucked them into his sides. He stepped closer and Keith blinked, in awe at the creature’s height, at it’s wings and eyes, at it’s existence .

He didn’t realize he’d stood up until he was directly in front of Mothman, the creature peering down at him with wide, curious red eyes. Keith should have been terrified like any sane person would be. He should have ran away the second he heard Mothman struggling. He wasn’t ever really normal, though, so there was a part of him that wasn’t even surprised by his own reaction.

Mothman made a soft clicking sound, fluttering his wings a few times as he leaned his head down to bump it against Keith’s. Keith’s eyes widened and he looked up, smiling a bit as he let out a soft chuckle. “You’re...a lot friendlier than I thought...I always thought you’d run away if anyone saw you.”

Mothman made a sort of huffing sound, fluttering his wings again before opening them wide and stepping closer. Keith didn’t realize what was happening until the wings closed around him, pressing him into the Moth’s warm body gently.

Keith was ninety percent sure he was going to explode then and there. They’d have nothing to take home of him except for his phone and pocket knife. Shiro would keep the knife. Lance would probably sell his cell phone.

Mothman was hugging him.

That’s how Shiro and Allura found him, cradled in the wings of Mothman. Shiro had screamed, understandably, and had Allura not been there Keith was sure Shiro would have chased Mothman off with the flashlight he had. Allura had calmed Shiro down, mostly because she was more stunned about the moth than Shiro was. Keith had stood protectively in front of Mothman, and once Shiro had calmed down, Keith only muttered one stern sentence.

“He’s coming home with us.”

Shiro opened his mouth to argue, but the sight of a giant Moth creature standing behind his brother, red eyes locked on Shiro, made him stop. He frowned and then sighed, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “...The back seat might be crowded.”

Keith was taking Mothman home.

Now his life was really starting.