#and these are the sad fruits if my pitiful labor

[shelfperson]

noooo large german man don’t kill the president on live television in an act of domestic terrorism

[edgeray]

I BESEECH YOU

Goddess! Arlecchino x Reader

You fear that your death draws near. You pray to be spared from suffering when you meet your fate.

Content warnings / info - none

When you're a dying individual, time swims past you, ungraspable and constantly evading you. There is almost too much time and never enough of it, a phenomenon that only comes to those whose mercy is death. While you bide your time, waiting for the inevitable to approach, there are still things that need to be tended to. Your farm and animals reserves no impatience despite your aching body and weakening limbs. Still, you find it hard to gripe when they preoccupy you from your fate.

No physician that has found a cure for your ailment, a medical anomaly for someone whose age was just ripe for marrying a reliable, decent man. Oh, how the villagers pity you, yet have not spared a single moment of their time or peace of mind for you.

Winter draws near. Whispers on the streets tell you that this year's harvest was abysmal. A famed apostle foretells that this winter will be harsher than the last. The nobles have, expectedly, stockpiled much of the village's harvest, and your neighbors were left to barter for remains and leftovers. Mania runs amok in the markets. The village brims with a fraught energy, despair palpable in the sad sight of the commoners.

It's an omen, you think. Just as your condition starts to worsen, every breath grows more labored than the last with each frigid and snow-casted night. Even now, with the fur-lined coat and the wool hat, the chill penetrates into your skin. You clutch onto the loaf of bread and bundles of fruit a little closer to your body as you traverse through the snow. It crunches underneath your feet, each bare step another dose of iciness injected into your veins. You shudder and lift your gaze.

A forgotten, barren shrine greets your view, a crumbling but no less sacred sanctuary. A relieved huff escapes from you.

The villagers have long abandoned this shrine and its goddess a long time ago. When the town began prospering, there sprung up many other trivialities for villagers to fret over–not when death seems so distant. When fields thrive, the weather is fair, the villagers’ pockets are full, and the nobles bless them with protection, death comes for few. Why worship the Goddess of Death when you can earn Lord Pantalone's blessing or be gifted with Lord Dottore's longevity and vitality? No longer is death a contagious disease, more so an afterthought. You used to think this way before you were struck with a curious illness. What use does currency have when you're dying? Why had Lord Dottore cursed you?

You kneel before the house of Lord Arlecchino. The coarse ground bites into your skin. The remains of your past offerings suggest that some critters have gotten to them before your Goddess has. Pesky creatures. You lay down the offerings in the center, before closing your eyes.

“Almighty Lord Arlecchino. I greet you, my Goddess of Death. How do you fare?” There is silence, but you still wait for an answer.

“I apologize this time for my lacking offerings. If you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I would be gratified. This year's harvest was not abundant… perhaps my village's luck has been used up. I believe there will be a lot of souls for you to collect. And… I will be among them,” you profess quietly, looking up at the ceiling.

You dip your head back down, inhaling deeply. “I know I have provided only humble gifts to you. But I have been devoted to you for years… I have taken care of this place of worship… may I ask of you for one thing, my Lord?”

The wind whistles through the shrine, and a gust kisses your skin. You take it as a sign to continue. “If you deem me worthy of this grace, then… I would like to die without suffering. If possible… I would like to pass during my slumber. If my request is too impudent… you may strike me down now. Or… I will wait for the time when I meet you. I thank you for your presence. Please indulge yourself in my gifts, Lord Arlecchino.”

You take one final bow, before getting up. You pray that the Goddess will take pity on you. You begin to turn, but then falter. Uncoiling the fabric around your neck, you place down your wool scarf onto the ground.

“I am not certain if you feel the winter chill as I do. Even if you do not, I would like for you to have it. The winter is grueling, as cold and beautiful as you are.”

You finally turn and leave. When you are nothing but a small silhouette in the distance, a pale woman emerges in the shadows of the shrine, observing you.

“Foolish, precious human,” the Goddess sighs as she leans down, grasping onto the scarf. “Do you undermine my omnipotence so much that you do not ask for me to relieve you of your illness? Or perhaps your heart is too large to muse the thought.”

She wraps the soft material around her neck. It is comforting. “It is not time for you to meet me just yet.”

Whipped up something quick cuz I was in a mood. Should I continue, maybe? Lowkey should finish my Halloween Event fic but... too many other ideas.

[rowiewritesstuff]

Yandere tfp Soundwave and shockwave?

Yandere Soundwave Fic:

TFP Yandere Shockwave X Reader

Shockwave doesn’t really feel emotions like everyone else. Yes, he has feelings like anger and pride- but he very rarely felt sad or sympathetic- and never the feeling of love.

When he saw you with the Autobots he just saw you as another annoyance- not someone he would grow to care for. 

When Soundwave took Ratchet, you were cradled in Ratchet’s arms. You were his assistant. You didn’t know much about science to start out with, but you were a mechanic. That helped you to be a good medic for basic repairs- eventually you learned a lot more under Ratchet’s care. You were very quick to learn and quickly surpassed him in knowledge (though he would never admit it).

Once on the ship, Ratchet agreed to help Megatron- on the terms you stayed with him the entire time. You were his assistant, and he needed you. 

Shockwave objected to having a small being getting in the way of their science, but Megatron told him it would only be temporary.

Shockwave was impressed when he discovered that you were proficient in Cybertronian sciences. This made him wonder about the brain capacity for humans. 

Soon enough, he started experiments on humans in a separate lab. He wanted to know all about you and your brain.

When the synthetic energon formula was almost completed, he went to Megatron to ask him a favor. 

“Lord Megatron,” he bowed. 

“What is it, Shockwave?” Megatron’s eyes never left the datapad he was reading through. 

“I would like to keep the human once the use for the autobot medic is no more.”

This made Megatron look up in interest. “Oh?”

Shockwave sucked up his pride to admit that you were better than him. “The human is… incredibly intelligent. They are also barely a threat as long as they are kept under a watchful eye. It would be a waste to simply dispose of them.”

Megatron couldn’t help but smirk. “I see. Well, as long as you prevent another ‘incident’ from happening again, I suppose you can keep it.”

Shockwave wouldn’t let another incident happen again. You had gotten out of the room somehow, and gotten into the dinner hall’s energon supply- which you proceeded to blow up. Three Vehicons were killed, and another seven injured. You were attempting to find a way out when you were cornered, so you tried to escape anyway you could. When they caught you, you weren’t punished out of a worry Ratchet would stop working.

When Ratchet grabbed you up in an attempt to escape, Megatron caught you both. Megatron snatched you up in his claws as he forced you both back into the lab. You were dropped onto a table when Ratchet grabbed you up.

Knockout was there, and he clicked his glossa at you. “Nice try~” he mocked, holding the correct Synthetic Energon recipe.

Shockwave pulled a sample out of a machine. “Spectral analysis confirms- that the synthetic energon is stable.” He held the glass up to Megatron. “The formula is now complete.” 

You whispered to Ratchet while they talked. “Ratch, maybe we can try to escape again.” The old bot merely shook his head when Megatron turned to us.

“Ahh, a pity you won’t live long enough to witness the fruits of your labor. But as much as we appreciate your contributions, doctor, I’ve made a promise to someone I intend to keep.” 

You’re suddenly plucked from Ratchet's hand and you scream loudly. “No! Let me go!”

You watch as Ratchet is dragged out of the room as you struggle to try to get to him. “Your struggle is illogical. There is no escape.” The deep voice of your captor sounded above you. You looked up at Shockwave with fear.

“What do you want from me? You have the formula! And where did you take Ratchet?!”

His single optic glowed a little bit brighter. “It is illogical to kill you when you possess so much potential. As for your Autobot friend, I suspect that Predaking has already made quick work of him.”

You felt as if your world fell apart around you. “I’ll never work for you.” You say quietly.

Shockwave learned in, inches away from your face. “We’ll see about that. There’s more than one way to get you to do as I want. For example- do you still care for the human children?” 

The look of horror on your face was all he needed to see. “It would be a shame if something were to happen to them. The only logical thing to do now is to work with me. Now, hand me the number 13 driver.” Shockwave ordered as he put you onto the table, continuing his work.

You began to cry as you dragged the heavy tool over to him, knowing that you have to do what he says or else he'll take everyone else you love from you.

[hanayori89]

No Woman Beyond (Epilogue)

*DISCLAIMER* This is the official ending of this fanfic and also the PG-13 version. The next post will be the alternative smutty ending so this is totally the readers prerogative. Thanks for reading my work! I hope you enjoyed this little fairytale of the Hero of Time and the contest of his heart (Which was none other than you dear reader ;)*

Applause was rampant throughout the audience. 

After your waltz with Link, you both unwillingly broke away. The taste of each other fresh on both of your lips. You whisked your glances towards each other, awaiting the announcer to rally the crowd. 

Which from the looks of things would be no easy feat. 

There were girls sobbing over the hero's declaration of true love. Men winced from the immense scolds of lonely housewives throughout the crowd.

"How come YOU never kiss me like that?" 

"You didn't even say things like that on our wedding day!"

"Seems like Link is also the hero of romance. Someone needs to show these men how to treat their wives!"

Link gave you an unsteady glance. "How did I save Hyrule, only to destroy it again?" You couldn't help but chuckle and slip your hand within his. Hollers and accolades were still making rounds throughout the crowd. Some grotesque profanities were being yelled by sore losers. Then there were also some shouts of encouragement...

"Thank Hylia! If you two didn't kiss, I would have come up there and shoved your heads together!" You traced the rowdy, feminine voice to Malon. She sat on Epona, clapping midair. "Kiss again!" She began to chant as others started to join in. 

Link began to furiously blush as he sheepishly turned towards you. He pulled you into him once again. A feeling you decided you could never tire of. The announcer stood in the background, clearing his throat. "It seems the hero has made his decision."

Link didn't bother to answer as he drew you into his lips once more. Your kiss was the ultimate hero's welcome. Something that had motivated him to prevail along his journey. You both parted in reverence as you heard Zelda begin to give a statement. You glanced up for a moment to see the same sadness from earlier in the bathroom. It settled like an unwelcomed guest amongst her pleasing features. She would never get to experience what you would. It all seemed so unfair. Everyone deserved to know love.

Zelda made her way to both of you, turning towards Link. "I know what it is you think hero and I do not want your pity. For the love of my kingdom invigorates me. I will say this; I do hope in part the goddesses shall bless me with a marriage that has the tenderness and temerity you both displayed today. " Link simply nodded, bowing at Zelda. So, he had noticed the same despondent princess you had seen. You had never thought of it from Link's perspective. He fought to save Hyrule so we all may have peace and the quality of life we deserve. Yet Zelda can never possess what he fought hard to give everyone else. Link, at the very least, got to return to reap the fruits of his labor. Zelda will never reap those fruits, as her labor is never ending. 

Then Zelda turned her attention towards you, giving you a gentle once over. Her eyes seemed to rest on the three spiritual stones that were pinned to your hair. "You would do the hero and Hyrule proud. You have my blessing. Let us hope that the goddesses never thrust upon him another cruel task. Such as the one he has just endured." 

"Princess," you began but were met by Zelda's hard gaze. "I mean, Zelda. I understand that my love does not come without hardship. Whatever the goddesses have in store; I shall be there to fight alongside my husband." Link's grip on your hand tightened. Comforting caresses of circles were being thumbed on the back of your hand. He gave you a stern expression, "I will not allow you to fight alongside me. I will not allow you to be subjected to such danger." 

"And you should be subjected to it alone? You seem to forget the whole kingdom was subjected to it. What difference does it make if I help you fight? You've seen I have been honing my skills." Defensiveness began to seep through your tone. "As long as I breathe you will never fight alone, Link."

Link continued to caress delicate circles on the back of your hand, in an attempt to calm you. "You have improved immensely. I am so proud of not only your skill, but the fact you took initiative. But just because you can wield fire doesn't mean you should have to walk amongst the flames." 

Zelda chuckled, "It seems you two have a lot to discuss. I offer my congratulations. May destiny deliver happiness and longevity amongst the dearly betrothed. And of course..." a wry smile appeared on her face. "An heir. May the goddesses proclaim!" With a swift bow to us both, she sauntered away to begin making her rounds amongst the audience. 

You turned to look at Link, his eyes already on you. "You sure you don't want to go chase Zelda? Malon? Aren't you already engaged to Princess Ruto? Now is your chance, hero."

Link erupted in laughter, pulling you back into his brawny body. The way you were meant to be. He held your face in between his hands, pressing his nose lovingly against yours. 

"Please, don't call me hero. I'm just Link. Your Link. Now and forever. And if anyone is a hero, it would be you. Whether you realize it or not, you have saved me so many times. You are the reason I was able to save Hyrule. I couldn't have done it without you." He twirled his fingers in some of your loose tendrils of h/c hair. His mouth so close to yours, his breath tickled your lips. 

"There is no one I want to chase, but you. My wife, "he made sure to emphasize wife. Hearing it sent a jolt through you.

"There isn't a woman in Hyrule or beyond that I could love the way I love you."

    **The End**

Wattpad and other fanfics below 👇🏻

[cryopathiic-a]

"Sometimes I wish... you didn't have to keep dealing with my shit."

( From @deathly-toxins )

❝ Hm? ❞

Shortly after locating his unique scent, Dōma had located him by the lotus ponds. It was an expansive area, dedicated to the spiritual flowers. A refreshing humidity reigned in that room, waters crystal clear & ponds free of mold, adorned only with a healthy amount of algae. It was all thanks to the tender care of the cult, whose members cherished this place as an alcove of hope & thus tended meticulously to its spaces. Once again, Dōma would only get to reap the fruits of their labor, when he treated the wooden docks.

Somberly, he had taken his place beside the freshly turned oni, initially offering the cliche warm smile he had learned appealed to him and the other one. Such a peculiar duo, those two. Albeit not requesting his personal attenion, per say, they did seem to enjoy it. And frankly, their company was usually not half bad. Even if the scrawny thing that sat behind him in that moment was hideous to look at. If he weren't puzzled by the sudden breaking of silence, Dōma would have taken more time to think on just how pathetically ugly the younger oni was; despicable, truly, in a way that could only evoke pity.

❝ Oy, why would you say something so melancholic? ❞ His honeyed voice was hushed, as if not to disturb a couple of koi swimming beneath them. Eventually, Dōma's lanky form unfolded, allowing his legs to dangle freely over the ledge & his socks to soak up cold water as he flicked some with his toes. For a moment, he, too, appeared thoughtful. Because for all his intricacies, he could not fathom why those two kids express unhappiness here, where they could have everything they wanted. A cold hand reached out to cup the other's boney shoulder, then, Dōma leaning closer to murmur.

❝ Gyu... ❞ Silver flowed between them with the motion, their frames a stark juxtaposition. ❝ Is there something troubling you, my little one? Where did those sad thoughts come from, all of a sudden? ❞

@deathly-toxins

[neverhangd]

What if they kissed? 👀 wildcard for any of the kids!

I'll write a scene where our muses kiss, even if they aren't shipped together. it is it's own thing and doesn't have to lead to an official ship. a "what if scenario"

Picking’s for suckers. 😎

Adelé

The guitar sang out, sad and low, as Anne strummed it. The song is an old one, and not at all popular, but it grabbed Anne from the first moment she heard it, a sort of cowboy ballad without too many Western frills.

“There’s only six hours…left in the day. Time is so precious, and it’s slipping away.” Her voice is nothing remarkable, low and a little hoarse and really only just passable; there’s a reason she plays the bass instead. Still. This song speaks to her on some secret level, something she can’t seem to let go of. She gives up on trying to mask her natural accent, even when it butchers the sound of the lyrics. “Got no destination, got no place to go: being with ye, dear…is all that I know. Put yer head on my pillow, we’re finally alone. Wash the dust from yer hair now, I don’t care if ye never go home.” Bit ironic, given that it’s neither her pillow nor her home that she’s singing for now.

Adelé arrives with coffee just as the song slinks back into wailing guitar melancholia. Anne sets the instrument aside mid-strum, pulling Adelé between her legs one-handed for a kiss. It’s as strange and pensive as the song itself, touched with melancholy and dust in the exact same places. Adelé is warm and soft against her lips, as comforting as the coffee she’s still holding. Anne pulls away from slowly, and with some regret, so she can look the other woman in the eyes. She could live there in Adelé’s gaze.

“I think I might love ye.” And that. That might be a problem.

Raoul

It should matter that they’re out in public, but it definitely does not. Those who don’t know any better might have thought they’d gotten into a spat overnight: Anne sits across from rather than beside him, staring out the window, stiff and fighting back winces. Raoul looks relaxed, fiddling with something on his phone, looking up and chitchatting with anyone but Anne. Raoul taps something on his phone and Anne jerks in a sudden breath, tries to cover the moment with a cough, but she’s been caught. Raoul’s smile isn’t as hidden as perhaps it ought to be, but to his credit, he still keeps her only in his periphery. He adjusts his phone once more and Anne’s grip becomes a vice on the door handle until he takes pity—maybe—and brings the controls back down again as the car pulls in to its destination. Anne all but shoots out the door, holding it open for Raoul and company to exit. The change in position is doing her no favors, but at least standing she feels like less of a sitting duck.

She’s so distracted juggling not reacting and keeping her footing that she doesn’t realize he’s right behind her until he touches her hip. She jumps and hisses, much to his amusement, even as he draws her back against his chest, murmuring into her ear.

“You’re doing so well.”

“I feel fuckin stupid,” she hisses back, but there’s a dusting of red across her cheeks that lets him know it’s not wholly unwelcome. He laughs and kisses her cheek, surreptitiously increasing the speed of the toy inside of her. She makes a strangled sound and half-falls back against him. He pats her hip twice and moves away, thumbing the speed back down before switching it to a randomly generated mode. She’ll learn to appreciate what he’s doing for her, in time, and he’ll enjoy the fruits of his labor alone until she does.

[merv-procrastinates]

it’s strangely comforting coming back to tumblr after i’d been away for so long. so much has happened in my life, so much has changed, but i get to come on here and engage in the community from my past.

i’m 24 now, graduated from college and have a plethora of life experiences that I wish I didn’t at times. I went through a lot in the last 2 years, from losing my mom to finally leaving a relationship that had sucked the life out of me, i feel so much older and wiser for it.

i’ve had the privilege of traveling and getting to nourish friendships as a young adult. i know myself a lot better than i did before. i get to work on my hobbies and be unapologetic about them. i don’t have nearly the same amount of self hatred i did in high school.

of course mutuals have changed and some blogs I don’t recognize anymore. but i love that it’s still here and a sort of portal to the past, which i so desperately long for sometimes. this isn’t meant to be sad or pitiful, i’m doing a lot to get my life in a place where i want it.

i wish i could tell the version of me that hurt so much when i was younger that it gets better. it really fucking does. even though i’ve felt as if i’ve been at my rock bottom the past two years, i have never felt more sure of myself and of my choices. i am proud of myself. i’ve done a lot of work on myself, and the fruits of my labor have been showing. i wish i could tell the 14 year old me that you won’t always be that angry, even when you have every right to be. that there will be ever present sadness, but it ebbs and flows.

this is so vulnerable and honest but i’ve made an effort to be that way with the people in my life because i see no point in hiding my truth. i used to think softness was weakness but it has taken great strength to tell others when i need support and when they do something that hurts me. or when i do something that hurts someone else, learning to better handle that has been worth every effort.

life can be so difficult and frustrating and heartbreaking. but it has also been gentle and sweet and lovely.

[no-ctrl]

I’ve been passively taking part of bad habits. I’ve been slacking on going to the gym, I’ve been refusing to wear my retainer at night. I’ve been going to sleep much later. I don’t fold my laundry. I do nothing with my life. I feel very out of control and out of touch with myself. I genuinely do not care to do better. I feel beat and battered. I do not have the will to continue. I do not have the will to prove myself to people. Feeling this defeated really hurts bc I know my potential I know I’m not meant to be living this reality, I know if I tried a bit harder I’d be in a better situation but the way my life spiraled down in a span of the last 2 months really is disheartening. It’s disheartening bc it feels like all my past efforts only helped others rather than myself. I can’t afford to live like that, I can’t afford to uplift people and elevate other’s lives while I’m struggling to live OKAY. not even live comfortably but just okay. To see other savor the fruits of MY LABOR is disheartening bc I’m struggling. Do you see why I don’t care to try? I don’t care to try bc it seems like I’m getting taken advantage of and used with nothing to gain. This hurts bc why does my life have to always be hard? I don’t care to sound like I’m having a pity party bc why am I the person being used? Whether it’s in a work setting or my relationships (platonic/romantic/family) I wish I could sleep forever. I wish I could shut everything out. I hate how I have to lived so conditioned to EVERYTHING but myself. Why can’t I just go to the gym in the morning again? Bc my sister is using my car? Why can’t I go to the gym in the evening? Bc then there is no parking on my block bc no one has a driveway and each house hold has 2+ cars AND there is a bar at the end of the block. Why don’t you just go out to block out these feelings? I can’t afford anything. Why don’t you just work more hours? My hours have been cut at BOTH my jobs, literally me having 2 jobs says enough. Why don’t you relax at home? How can I relax when I have a immature and unhealed woman as my mother constantly telling me I’m weak for being sad or berating me for resting? Why don’t you just hangout with your friends? My friends… the ones that are with their ex and go on ghost mode. How am I supposed to manage to move forward when I’m just so lonely? I’m so sad and can’t help but feel so little. You see other have their people to rely on in these hard times. I can’t help but feel alone. I feel like a burden, not bc I think I’m a burden, bc the moments I feel courageous enough to ask for help I’m denied, almost as if my sadness or whatever situation I’m going thru is an inconvenience. The love I’ve received feels very conditional. When feeling conditionally loved it’s hard to understand that my value ≠ my worthiness of love. It’s hard to believe my value ≠ my worthiness of love bc thts not what is reflected my loved ones. The moment I’m going through it, I’m left ghosted. I am tired. I know Love is a real true thing bc it exists within me but where is that love for me? Don’t I deserve love? I don’t even mean just romantic love. Don’t I deserve to be loved by my parents? Don’t I deserved to be loved by my family? Don’t I deserve to be loved by my friends? Why are things conditional with me? What’s wrong with me? How could I not believe it’s me when I’m the one being loved wrong? These people that treat me wrong are loved and they are shown compassion, care and consideration. I know this for a fact bc all those things were given by ME. if I can Love despite my life circumstances then why am I constantly surrounded by selfish people. The worst part of it all, is these people are capable of being loving, compassionate and considerate but it’s just not directed at me. Please tell me how else am I supposed to feel? It’s hard to manage this life bc I feel so defeated. I feel neglected. I feel unheard. I feel misunderstood. I wish I could just turn it all off.

[sxlver-sweet]

Okay ooc arba so imagine when takemitchy time leap again he saw an unfamilliar girl and when she started appearing, the timeline suddenly changed?? But she got closed to toman, and her and takemithy are close but not that quite cause takemitchy is hesistant. But when the timeline is slowly changing and everyone is being saved getting their happy endings, like hina is alive, emma and draken getting married, etc. She just vanished and they all found out the news that she died?

–🎴

oh my god stop stop stop this made me so sAD but i loVE IT.

all i can think about is the aftermath of toman receiving the news of her untimely demise. all i can think about is how they all just stand there, minds blank with shock as they struggle to process the fact that her of all people had somehow become entangled in a web of obscurity and foul play that resulted in her bloated body being hauled out of a river. all i can think about is how takemichi automatically starts blaming himself for not noticing that her disappearance was oddly timed—the day after emma and draken's wedding, actually—and for not catching on to the signs of endangerment that he's certain she must have been exhibiting. all i can think about is the sick, gaping abyss of dread that yawns in takemichi's stomach as he recounts his interactions with her dating back to the first time she became entwined with the fate of toman. all i can think about is how his hands begin to tremble and his eyes well up with tears as he notices a common thread winding through each major conflict and issue that he faced.

she always knew.

he didn't know how, but she just did.

it was evident in the way she stroked mikey's hair as he finally crumbled and spilled tears into the grass swaying against their ankles, his motorcycle leaned against her thigh as she bore the weight of both toman's leader and the burden of his bloodstained past. it was evident in the unwavering gentleness in her eyes as she foretold a future of suffering and shallow pleasure that would undoubtedly unravel before mikey's very eyes, a revelation that takemichi was only aware of because he didn't trust mikey's deteriorating mental stability when he departed from a meeting with a mumbled, dull dismissal of needing to "take a drive." it was evident in the way she yanked emma into her side to shelter her from what would have been a tragic end, consequently enduring a blow from a wooden bat that shattered her own shoulder and left her in a sling for months to come. it was evident in the way she collapsed kisaki's plan into fragments as if it were mere child's play and allowed kazutora's switchblade to sink into her wrist, trading her own consciousness for baji's life without a shred of reluctance. it was evident in the way she returned to toman with baji's arm linked around hers, wrist swaddled in bandages and a bright smile splitting her cheeks. it was evident in the way her eyes were devoid of anything but pity, half-lidded and soft with sorrow as she gazed up at a deranged izana with a face speckled with bruises and dripping with her own blood.

the gentle understanding in her eyes never once faltered—never once dimmed.

takemichi is certain that she must have caught on to his own ability to leap through time. however, she never once questioned it, and he never once questioned her. although, thinking back on it, he knows that he should have. because now, all her arcane secrets have died alongside her.

what's worse is that he knows that everyone else feels the same way.

the burden of guilt weighs heaviest on takemichi's shoulders. he neglected to form an alliance with her out of the sheer uncertainty and skepticism spurred by her being an unfamiliar figure in a storyline that, so far, had been unchanging. however, because of that, he knows that he missed key signs that hinted at a future of loneliness and affliction for her. but, what truly kills him is that despite all the experience he gained through the trial and error of the redo he was blessed with, he knows that she’d always been ten steps ahead of him. she was well aware that her death was approaching while he remained ignorant. she suffered in silence, alone and detached. the kindness and compassion that poured from her heart demonstrated no bounds, because she knew that she wouldn't have the rest of her life to exhibit them. a glimmer of something wistful—desolation, perhaps—had been prominent in her eyes from day one as she silently watched the fruits of her labor blossom into a future that she knew takemichi and toman deserved. the way she clung a bit tighter to emma when she embraced her at the wedding reception, the loose-ended questions that she would always start to ask takemichi but ultimately dismiss with a dry chuckle and a shake of her head, the way she broke her fucking back to meticulously carve out a place in the future for everyone but herself—all the signs were there.

all the signs that she needed someone—anyone.

so how is it, takemichi wonders, that he managed to save everyone but the one person who rescued so many people that she herself forgot how to ask for help?

[whackdreamer]

Since you’re so keen on answering oc questions, how about you answer 1-20 for Claire? 😈

Hoho~ Indeed I am too keen. Ask and you shall receive😈

Answers for 2&9 and 17&20.

1.What is the main color associated with them? What connections with that color do they share?

-Gray/Silver, her hair color. Where she is meant to stand in between Nacht and Morgen's black and white themes. She is the color of balance and neutrality for both.

-Blue, as in light blue/sky blue. The color of Claire light magic is such. In terms of symbolism, calmness and serenity as well as sadness. Deep inside Claire wants to find peace in her life. She has endured hardships and challenges at such a young age that she feels pity over herself  but not necessarily hates anyone over it. She has a deep seated sadness within her, that may eventually boil into a strong emotion if she keeps it bottled up.

3. What real life animal would they be represented by?

- Claire’s magic is already in the form of fireflies. If representing her character then it would be how such a small creature can achieve a unique feat of glowing their own light. Fireflies in itself already hold so much meaning and symbolism like hope and love. But when in the process of creating Claire the words that came into my mind is how she is ‘the light in the dark’.

4. What mythical creature would they be represented by?

- A fairy. An ethereal creature usually depicted as beautiful and magical. She is capable of granting protection or inciting mischief depending on her desires. She can be an ally to the good, or merciless to the evil.

5. Which body part are they associated with? (Example: hands/arms symbolize strength.)

-The brain. Though she isn’t always thinking before acting especially in her youth where many events would have led her emotions to burst and blind all reason in her mind. Claire uses her brain a lot and finds logic in most situations she finds herself in.

6. Which of the four seasons best fits them?

-I’d say autumn, the season fits Claire’s peasant background as it's associated with harvest. The time where she’ll finally gather and reap the fruits of peasant labor. And a good harvest means how she would be secured for the winter that is to come.

7. What time of day are they associated with?

-Night, she likes to burn the midnight oil too. A hard worker that is still awake in such ungodly hours reading and studying. Her theme of fireflies also mixes well with her being a night person. The inspiration of her magic technique started when her mother showed her the fireflies glowing at night. 

8. Which of the seven heavenly virtues are they associated with? Do they embody that virtue or are they trying to learn it?

- Charity. Though reluctant to help others at first Claire eventually found the benefit of helping others. When she was still a peasant she helped villagers so it would give her a good image and the peasant locals would stop being anxious with her. Morgen’s influence and joining the knights helping others made her feel like she has a purpose in life. Claire is a healer and a talented mage, and through charity she is able to see how her talents are of use.

10. Are they closer to life or death?

- Claire’s path is closer to life. She is a capable healer who saves lives… However, being close to life doesn’t mean death isn’t within sight. After all, life and death goes hand in hand.

11. Land, sea, or sky? Of the realms of the world, which one does the character belong to?

-Sky as in ‘the sky is the limit’. The land or the sea won’t be enough to contain such a free spirit like her. She’ll take flight. She’ll conquer everything including the vast sky. What Claire loves about her light magic is how she can fly really fast with it.

12. Are they the sun, moon, stars or something else in space (black hole, meteor shower, etc)?

-Star. Or as her name already suggests, the northstar. The star that holds great importance in finding directions. The light that shines at the night sky that helps guide the lost. However the one who is bound to get lost is Claire herself, but as she embodies the northstar she’ll eventually find herself again.

13. Instead of your standard four elements, consider what kind of metal represents your character.

-Steel. Referring to the metal motifs in the suggested link Claire’s heart got hardened like steel. But not heart of steel where she isn’t showing emotions like a certain OC (ehem). She built walls around her heart, she learned to ‘steel herself’ especially after she faced hardships and discriminations for being a noble bastard. She can be sharp and dangerous like steel too, but it shows not in her physical strength but in her skill in magic, in her creativity and unique way of wielding it.

14. Regardless of whether or not they wield any, what kind of weapon do you associate them with?

-Unless we consider a Swiss Army knife as a weapon then that's what I’ll say Claire is. But it’s not exactly a deadly weapon but a multipurpose tool that gets one out of trouble. If you still want an actual weapon to associate with Claire I’d say it would be a karambit. That small sharp curved knife that is dangerous when in the right hands. A sharp blade like her sharp wits is deadly when wielded right.

15. Pick an article of clothing to represent them. What does it mean?

-Glasses. Claire is a nerd. She does a lot of reading and observations and is eager to learn.

16. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and anything between. What kind of dish are they?

-Light snack😆. Not a filing meal but a tasty one 😉. As in something that one would eat while watching or studying. Not too filling so it makes you eat more and more until- You are like Claire who is insatiable and continues to consume information.

18. Which card would they be from the major arcana of tarot cards? (If you’re more well read in tarot, you could also do minor arcana.)

-The Star(how unironically ironic). Anyways, since Claire will undergo character developments over time, I’d say in her youth that Claire is a Star meanwhile as an adult she’s more associated with the High Priestess arcana. But focusing on Star instead;

UPRIGHT: Hope, faith, purpose, renewal, spirituality

REVERSED: Lack of faith, despair, self-trust, disconnection

Upright applies to when Morgen was still alive she found purpose in life. She obtained a positive outlook, she obtained hope, love and more. But with his loss (plus one other event) was where she lost herself again. Things slowly crumbled down for her that she did begin to feel the reversed meanings of the Star card. Despair is a given, and disconnection with her dreams happens. Some things are just not meant to be it seems. She’ll be filled with a lot of doubt and regret. But no matter how hard life becomes, no matter how dark and bleak the future is, the star will still shine.

19. Which of the four temperaments (sanguine, choleric, melancholic, or phlegmatic) are they?

- Melancholic primarily. In the mixed temperament it's melancholy-choleric. For the melancholic temperament it’s a big nod to being introverted, task-oriented, highly-sensitive and blunt. Claire can be very honest with what’s on her mind. And when it comes to her goals, once she sets her mind on something she will see it through. Her first goal was to help her mother and find a cure for her illness, and the first part of her story does revolve around it.

-For the mixed melancholy-choleric taking from the temperament blend, “a systematic and precise thinker. They follow self-imposed, strict procedures in both their business and personal lives. The Melancholy-Choleric has firm, serious expressions, and they rarely smile.

They not only want to do things right and get results, they strive to figure out what is right. The Melancholy-Choleric is, therefore, more pushy and blunt than the other Melancholy combinations. They can be abrasive and offensive when communicating with others. The Melancholy-Choleric is attentive to details and pushes to have things done correctly according to their standards. They have high standards for themselves and others. They can be perfectionists about some things. They will resist change until the reasons are explained, defended, and accepted.” Yes, that is very Claire.

[kagemaruzest69]

Lovesick {Karl Heisenberg x Reader} 

Ch. 3 - {The Factory and Experiments} 

【αℓℓ ℓιƒє ιѕ ηαυgнт вυт αη єχρєяιмєηт】

It was only (Y/N)’s first day having to work with Heisenberg and she already dreaded this man more than she did in the first place. Deep within her still humane heart, she knew that James would never turn his back on her and soon, he would come back to save her. Oh, how naïve was she to think of that.

Right then, the (H/C) haired girl was walking with Heisenberg as he showed her around the factory, starting from the floor B1 whereas it was a floor meant as storage, then lower to the floor B2 which contains the electrical parts for the factory. Along the way, a few soldat soldiers could be seen which made her cringed in disgust and walked closer to Heisenberg much to her dismay. Those soldiers looked very monstrous, something that humanity should never think of and better to be left alone as a wild, sickening, and crazy ideas. Human bodies’ parts were either taken out or just straight being experimented on, exchanged or melded with metal parts. Either one or both of their arms were changed with drills, face covered with visors, and a piece of reactor implanted on their chests. It was truly a sight of nightmare and she had to contain herself from throwing up.

However, the genius man behind the experiment himself explained everything as if those were something of a huge prize and achievements. His possessed prizes, fruits of his crafty hand work and labor. He spoke with pride imbued in every word that he let out from his lips. His body language showing his theatrical side to make things more dramatic.  

Her thoughts raced, thinking if she would end up like one of them if she were to disobey the tall man that walked near her, still explaining about the rooms and occasionally told her about the experiments he was working on with his subjects with the very same enthusiastic behavior. This also showed a somewhat ironic part of the man, it was as if he had never actually had a chance to talk with another living being. A part of her, began to feel pity for him, but it was shrugged off right away.

Their walks and idle talk continued as they walked down through the manufacturing area of floor B3 and down to the B4 where he kept his materials. Heisenberg’s steps suddenly came to a halt and this made (Y/N) bumped to the male. His body was sure hard as steel that she fell and braced herself for the contact with the ground which never came. Instead, her waist met a strong arm that halted her fall. “I can’t have you falling for me now, can I? since we’ve just met, and I barely know you at all.” His face was incredibly close to hers, his infamous smirk playing at his lips as he pulled her up to his chest.

A faint trace of blush was fighting its way to (Y/N)’s face, but she managed to fight it back, thinking that it was just him showing his kindness to her, nothing more. After all, her heart still belonged to James. “I am not falling for you. Had it not been for your sudden stop, I wouldn’t have bumped into you nor fall.” She was examining his facial features closer, he truly looked like the opposite of her boyfriend, he had a messy, shoulder length silver hair and unkempt beard, eyes that were a shade of brown, hidden beneath his sunglasses, unlike James who had a clean and sharp facial feature. “Thank you for catching me nonetheless.” She thanked him as she forced herself out of his grip.

The trip of the factory will finally come to an end, or so (Y/N) thought, until suddenly, a huge roar of engine just like what she had heard earlier before she met Heisenberg came to their attention once again. Heisenberg growled, turned to the source of the noise and yelled at whatever it was to shut up. “What was that?” (Y/N) asked the mechanic, “It was something that it’s better left unknown for now. A failure.” He spoke with a hint of shame.

“Let’s leave it at that, our tour of the factory is over.” He announced as he took out a cigarette and lit it easily. He took a drag from the cigarette and exhaled the smoke. He soon continued his steps to get up to the higher levels of the factory with (Y/N) following closely behind him.

“You have been living in this factory all alone by yourself?” the female asked out of curiosity to confirm that he would be the only problem, the only wall between her and her freedom to get out of the factory. He sighed as he ran a hand over to his fedora hat and tipped it down to cover his forlorn expression. “Sadly yes,” He stopped in his tracks to take a look around the factory that was filled with machines, shelves, and metal parts “And you are my first and only guest of honor here. But I must say that having you as my first guest is a luck to me.”

“So you can just use me as another hand to help you escape?” His laugh was an answer to her rhetorical question. “Yes, you also happen to need a help to escape from this village. We share a common goal, so it is not that bad, don’t you agree?” She folded her hands in front of her chest and huffed, knowing that he was right. “And I want to learn more about the outside world from you.”

(Y/N) was taken aback by his last sentence. Had he never been to the outside world? Never took a single step outside of the village? Not even once in his lifetime? The meaning behind her expression was crystal clear to the male. “Indeed, my dear. I have never made a contact with the outside world, let alone stepping out of this Village because of that wretched witch Miranda.” His teeth were gritted as hatred flew through the curse he had for his supposed to be ‘mother’. The metal parts around them began to rise from the ground. (Y/N) of course noticed this, but once again, rather than fear, the young female’s expression softened into that of a pity. “No, don’t you dare give me that look after accusing me as the monster I am.” He shook his head to the side.

“I am very sorry about that.” She didn’t know what had gotten through her, but she just felt like those words were needed to be said. And just like the magnetic man he was because of the parasite within him, she was lured in close to his side, not by his power, but by her feelings for him. The feelings were ones of sadness, empathy, guilt and regret.

She was sad for him to have lived a long life filled with torture because of the experiments he received and he did. It must have been a nightmare to him. She felt the empathy for the condition he was living in and how he had longed for freedom just like she wanted. She felt guilty and regret that she had accused him when all he did was to save her life in hope of finally getting help from her and how he just wanted her company within his presence.

She engulfed him in a warm hug before she knew it and he froze on the place. His cigarette fell to the floor and a warmth spread within his cold chest. Although, before he could react, (Y/N) had pulled back, “I am sorry I didn’t know why I did that.”

He tried to play tough and scoffed, “It’s alright, however, that will be the only one time you were to hug me like that.” He looked down on his wasted cigarette and stomped softly on it to put the fire out. They both soon returned to his main chamber where the two would take a rest. She would have to live with him in his chamber because the factory held no other habitable room like the chamber. He had offered her to sleep on his bed, but she refused politely, telling him that she was just a guest and she was used to the couch. He didn’t argue with this and thus, he would sleep on the bed and she would sleep on the couch.

[problemchildnoonewanted]

Demon!AU: Part 1

Hiro had given up. He tried everything. None of the inventions he had built or formulas he concocted bore any fruit for all his labor. The science he loved and cherished so dearly left him with dead end after dead end. It couldn't bring back his big brother.

So after eight days of sobbing and Baymax saving Hiro from suicide two times, Hiro decided to try one last thing.

It all started with a stupid ad he saw on a sketchy web site. It read: Demonology For Beginners! How To Make Your Dreams Come True!

However, when he clicked on the link it just took him to a white page with a 'site not found' message.

He sighed in frustration, but the possibilities were already bouncing around in his mind. So he began researching. Even getting into contact with a few experts and practitioners. Until finally after weeks of gathering information, he found himself here. Painting a rather large summoning circle on his bedroom floor with white paint. Aunt Cass would kill him if she ever found out he did this to her floor.

One of the friends he had made warned him that when making a deal with a demon there can be a catch. Demons like to play tricks and pranks with foolish humans. But Hiro was an intelligent person and from what he's learned so long as he's specific he'll get his brother back.

Hiro would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He was terrified. What if it didn't work? What if the demon flat out said no? What if-

No, now wasn't the time for that.

Hiro lit the six black candles he bought and placed them in the center of the outside circles.

Hiro grabbed the sharp kitchen knife and dug it along the palm of his hand. Blood almost instantly started pouring out of the wound and Hiro tried not to make any sound of pain as to not activate Baymax. He quickly moved around the large circle to spread his blood around the edges and letting it drip around the candles. When he was done he wrapped his hand in a disinfectant cloth.

Then he began the chant.

"Magnum daemonem Domine da mihi volo te voco. Audite quaeso ut mihi vocationem auxilium, et super me misericordia." (Great demon lord, I summon you to my side to grant my wish. Please hear my call for help and take pity upon me.)

Hiro followed the instructions and repeated the mantra a total of six times.

Then silence.

Hiro knew that this probably wouldn't work, but that didn't make it hurt any less. Hiro fell to his knees and buried his face in his hand as he began sobbing.

"Why are you crying, boy?"

Hiro jumped away from the direction of the menacing and terrifying voice. Looking up Hiro saw the towering figure above him. It was very human-like in shape, but it was far from mistakable. Its huge lean figure, long, pointed horns, and not mention its black shadow-like body gave away what it truly was. A demon.

It tilted its head and its eyes made of white light seemed to narrow in amusement at Hiro's panting form on the ground.

Every part of Hiro's brain was telling him to get up and run from the creature, but he fought those urges down.

"I can't believe it worked," Hiro spoke more to himself than anything else.

"Yes, indeed. Now that we are past the amazement of my existence, you will answer my question, yes?" Hiro stared mesmerized by the way the being mouth appeared and disappeared from its face and, just like its eyes, it was made of pure light.

"What?" Hiro asked a bit foolishly.

The demon sighed. "Why were you crying upon my arrival, boy? Most don't start crying until they see me, and you didn't even seem to notice I was here." The creature waved its hand around as if to prove a point.

"Oh. It's because... I thought it didn't work." Hiro sat up and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"I see. And would it have been so bad if it hadn't?" The demon questioned seemingly intrigued by the human child's reactions.

"Yes," Hiro replied without hesitation.

"Oh? And why is that?" The entity moved closer to Hiro and from this distance, he could make out more details. The black layer that seemed shadow like at first now revealed to be skin that Hiro could see faint glowing veins beneath. The demon also didn't seem to have any perceivable gender.

"Because then that would mean I'd never get to see my big brother again." Hiro's gaze dropped to the floor in sorrow before snapping back up when the demon spoke once more.

"Is that why you've brought me here? Is he missing?" The demon sat down in front of Hiro in a bit of a lazy fashion just on the edge of the circle it was summoned with.

"He died in a fire."

"I see."

There was a moment of silence where the demon just seemed to stare at Hiro.

"Can you bring him back?"

"I can."

"Really!? That's ama-"

"As a demon."

"What?"

"I'm an Archdemon, not a god. My power is great but limited," The demon waved its hand again and an unnatural light filled the room before disappearing just as fast as it came.

Hiro sat and contemplated this new information for a minute.

"But it would still be Tadashi, right?"

"Correct. It's still his soul. Just corrupted."

"Corrupted!?"

"It's just another word for becoming a demon. The only thing that may be different about him is he may become less moral. But only a little." The demon pinched its thumb and index finger together with only a bit of space in between them as if to show how little the difference will be. "You'd barely even notice. Most of the time they just become a little more selfish with what they want. Possessive. Carnal. That's all."

"Oh... I guess that's not so bad."

"Of course it's not. Now, why do you want him back so desperately? Be specific."

"Because he's my brother!" The demon's eyes narrowed at Hiro's raise in tone and lack of a proper answer. "I-I'm sorry. I mean because I love him more than anyone and he's always been there for me. He's the only reason I ever tried to be better and now that he's gone... I barely find the energy to get out of bed."

"Hm... I'm sensing a little more than familial love." Hiro felt heat rise to his face and the tips of his ears and opened his mouth to deny the accusation, but he was cut off. "And don't lie to me, boy. I'll know. And if you do I'll kill you and take your soul so you'll never see your precious brother again. You see I despise liars."

"I-I... Yes. You're right."

"Now, was that so hard? And how sweet." The demon grinned inhumanly wide and with how close they are Hiro could make out just how sharp each of its teeth, more like fangs, were. They could easily slice through flesh and, if he had to guess, maybe bone and metal. "How long have you known? I don't get out much, so do forgive my intrusiveness, but I am so curious."

"I th-think I may have always had a crush on him. As a kid, everyone said I had a brother complex because I didn't want Tadashi to go anywhere if I wasn't there and didn't want to let him hang out with anyone but me. I just thought that since he was my brother that meant he was mine. And for the most part, Tadashi just let it happen. Doing whatever I wanted and letting me get away with anything. Then a couple years ago love was explained to me for the first time and I realized that that's what I felt for Tadashi. But by then I also knew it wasn't acceptable to feel that way for your brother. So I didn't tell anyone... And then he went to college. He started spending less time with me and more with his projects and new friends. So I did what any kid my age not getting enough attention does and started something illegal to get his focus back on me."

"Wow, kid." The demon seemed almost astonished with just how honest Hiro was.

"Sorry. You're just the first person I've ever talked to about this." Hiro scratched the back of his neck again and looked down.

"... And you're the first human that's called me a person." The demon brushed its claws through Hiro's hair without thinking before quickly retracting its hand to its side.

"That's kinda sad."

The demon chuckled in response and had Hiro heard that sound in any other situation he probably would have pissed himself. Hiro laughed and the two sat in silence for another moment.

"So... Is this the part where you eat my soul or whatever?" Hiro looked up at the demon through his long bangs.

"No. I don't think I will. It pleased me to speak with you, child. I hope to do so again. So how about this instead. I give you your big brother, Tadashi, back, and should I ever need a favor you will help me without question or condition."

"Yes! I mean wait. What's the catch?"

"Catch?"

"Like what's the downside?"

"Hm. I suppose it would be that you will have to supply your brother with your energy as he will now be bound to you. But that's it." The demon leaned forward with its clawed right hand outstretched. "Do we have a deal?"

"Absolutely!" Hiro clasped both hands around the demon's and shook it harshly.

The demon's grin stretched up past its eyes and almost to its horns. "This might tickle a bit."

Before Hiro could even question what the demon meant he felt searing hot pain shooting through his body from where he was connected to the other. It was easily the worst physical pain Hiro had ever felt. And then it was like every memory Hiro ever had of Tadashi was playing through his mind.

Hiro's memories played until he saw the explosion from Tadashi's death and it was like the end of a camera real. He was able to see his room and the demon again.

"Ah. There you are. I've located his soul. Luckily, he's still in limbo awaiting assignment. That's easy enough to pull him from," Hiro heard the creature's voice inside his head. "Now for the tricky part. Let's create your demon form."

Hiro noticed out of the corner of his eye a dim light and glanced over to spot another circle slowly materializing in red fire-like light. This one was different from the one Hiro had drawn. It seemed more complex.

"Ah!" Hiro hissed in pain. It felt like someone was slicing into his wrist with a fine blade. He looked down and saw that the same symbol was being carved into his skin by seemingly nothing. Hiro reached to cover his right wrist as though to protect it but the demon in front of him grabbed Hiro's left wrist and held tight to his right hand.

"Don't." Then everything around them began to shake and the demon started to laugh at the events unfolding.

Hiro felt genuine terror at the moment as a few tears slid down his face. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the new circle finally finished materializing on both the floor and Hiro's wrist.

Hiro looked over in time to see a column of fire burst from the circle to the ceiling and for a moment Hiro was worried an inferno would break out. 'Am I going to die in a fire too?' But Hiro was surprised to find that when the blaze receded there were no marks.

Movement caught Hiro's eyes immediately. He looked down to the sight of a steaming, heavily breathing form. It had long horns protruding from its forehead, and short black hair in the same style Tadashi always had it. Hiro looked to meet its eyes to see if it really was Tadashi, but the creature seemed dazed. Hiro stepped close to get a better look and the demon let him go to do so.

"He'll be out of it for a minute or so while he gets accustomed to being alive again."

He seemed taller and broader, more muscular. The horns were red and flaked in black obsidian. The whites of his eyes were now red and the usual soft brown was now a striking golden yellow. They seemed sharper in a dangerous way. The lower half of his face was covered by what looked like the bottom half of a red Japanese Oni mask.

Looking lower, Hiro noticed his muscles were definitely more defined. Hiro wanted to reach out and feel them but was stopped by what looked like fire blazing beneath his skin. There were patches of red and black around his shoulders and his hands led down to black long claws that twitched every now and again.

Hiro's eyes moved back to his torso where he saw the red and black patches around his sides flowing down to his hips and- 'hoLY FUCK HE'S NAKED!'

Hiro whipped his head away and felt the heat return to his face making the demon by his side snicker as though it could hear his thoughts. But the damage was already done and Hiro just kept thinking, 'That is really big,' like a damn idiot. 'There's no way Tadashi was that big before, right?'

"Don't be shy. There's more to see." The demon he summoned purred out. Eventually, Hiro turned his head back to further inspect Tadashi's new form just avoiding that area, which was kinda difficult considering Tadashi's hips were almost Hiro's shoulder height.

A fluid motion caught Hiro's attention behind Tadashi and he saw that it was a long swishing red tail ending in black with a dull point. Hiro then saw that the nails on Tadashi's toes were now black and more claw-like as well.

"Well, what do you think? Some of my best work if I do say so myself." The demon remarked a bit smugly.

"He's-" Just as Hiro was about to share his thoughts Tadashi seemingly jolted to life and looked around in a disoriented manner. He made eye contact with the being that was closest to his eye level first.

"Wha-" Tadashi tried to get out but when he heard how different and muffled his voice was he freaked out and reached for his face. He instantly felt the hard lines of the Oni mask covering his mouth and began trying to pull it off.

"Calm down. It's just a battle mask. All demons have one. Relax and it will come off," The taller demon, that Tadashi somehow knew to be his maker, spoke as it began circling Tadashi to get a good look at its creation. "You can summon it at will. You'll figure it out."

Tadashi took a few calming breaths and the mask slipped off with ease. Tadashi let it fall and he followed the motion, but the mask dissipated before it hit the floor. Tadashi then looked over himself to take in his new features. He was a little freaked out, but, in a way, it felt... natural.

Tadashi then noticed the figure in front of him and looked up to see that it was Hiro. His Hiro. He's not sure why, but when he made direct eye contact he got this intense feeling as though he had found something he was missing.

The feeling was so strong that he felt tears welling up and soon spilling over. Hiro suddenly looked very concerned and it was like he could feel that concern himself.

"Don't be alarmed. A demon's tears are normally either red like blood or black like tar depending on the reason." The shadow-like demon brought the back of its claw up and swiped at Tadashi's cheek and pulled back to show Tadashi the reason for Hiro's alarm. What he saw was, in fact, a red, almost blood-like, liquid.

"I-Is this real?" Tadashi asked reaching out for Hiro to cup the side of Hiro's face gently with his new clawed hand. Hiro leaned into the contact and latched his hands onto Tadashi's wrist and forearm when the contact didn't burn him like Hiro thought it would.

"I was just about the ask the same thing." Hiro closed his eyes and nuzzled into Tadashi's palm. Tadashi felt a sense of peace wash over him and moved to fully embrace Hiro as the blissful sensations coursed through his being.

"Your emotions and intense thoughts will be connected to each other now. It's apart of the pact. Boy, you are now responsible for his well being. Keep in mind that he can only receive energy from you and so if you refuse or forget to feed him he will die. Though I doubt it will get to that point between the two of you. If there's ever a time you feel he needs discipline just apply pressure to the seal with thoughts of harm. The same can be said of the opposite. I'll be off now." The lanky demon slowly walked back to the summoning circle with a smirk.

The brothers were too busy embracing each other to worry about the retreating demon who left as quietly as it came.

"Hiro Hamada, what was all that noise and shaking!" Aunt Cass's voice called from the other side of the locked door.

[honestlytim]

I'm resisting this. Writing my experience of the past day. Resisting the commitment to doing so each day. 'Its pointless' I hear, even though I know its not. 'There is no reason to do this,' even though I know perfectly the benefits and what changes this would bring. Namely that I begin to recall what occurs in my life. So often I run away into the present moment to avoid taking responsibility for this life. In order to not have to face the facts I stay present with the inconceivable present. This makes me forgetful and ignorant to the world around me. Blind even to my own experience. This technique of noting, nightly recapitulation of the day's event, daily of the night's dreams, morning and evening prayer of intention gratitude praise and compassion for the suffering of others, all this would lead to a more conscious and authentically expressed life. Is this spirituality? Who knows.

So this morning I woke up and checked on Faith. We had gone to see Moonrise Kingdom the night before in Amherst. After we took a walk around town we returned and retired to separate bedrooms. We talked long about the change in attitude that occured in me and what caused it. I no longer felt I could trust her. It had been so long that I had given the benefit of the doubt. After coming back from new york a couple days earlier, after our plans to see the show in turner falls had fallen through, my back had taken its last straw. I no longer could wait for her invitation, nor trust that it would be fulfilled if ever it came. I was fed up and finished playing into the regular pace of being happy playful and horny. She wasn't respecting my time and attention. I couldn't play the part anymore and I fell into my shadow. The bitter mute, callously judging the world from within. The self possessed and perpetual victim. Closing my heart and looking away from those I love most deeply in the world. I felt hurt and was protecting myself.

This is the truth and it isn't the truth. Its not a lie but fails to describe what was actually occuring. I'm throwing a pity party for the wounded parts of myself and I haven't even started. So I got out the oats and started preparing breakfast. Faith joined me and we got to talking out in the gazebo as we ate. Long after we finished we continued to chat. First we spoke of last night's dreams. Then about Sabien. About Faith and how they are similar. Why that could be good or bad depending on how you look at it. About how when you commit to being someone's partner you really got to follow through. Then we started talking about our past together. What went wrong and how I felt hurt. I saw that she wants a partner who is actively social and engages charismatically with others. That she didn't want me to change who I was in order for us to work. That having fun was important to her. I fell short and she didn't want to be controlling. She couldn't keep the illusion going and found some greener grass. I thanked her for the transformation that she's helped catalyse in me and after getting the last few things together she drove away. A sad and fruitful time. It left me grievous yet hopeful for the future.

I made some lunch and did some laundry and then got on the phone with Rosie. A video call in the gazebo again. We talked fairly briefly, I realize I was being a bit passive aggressive in reflecting the behaviors that had made me disillusioned with her, yet not speaking my mind forthwithly. I was preventing her from feeling guilty by not putting plainly why I was rather upset with her. I had driven out all the way to bovina and we had hardly spent a moment together. I felt dejected and underappreciated. She said some things after doing the digging to find that out. That she wasn't in this to be co-dependent with someone. That she wasn't going to accept having to be hypervigilant and over attentive to my state in order to constantly keeping me comfortable. That she wasn't in it to go through emotional labor just for me to express myself. That I need to be able to speak my needs and wants and what isn't working for me. I need to be able to say that I want a partner that prioritizes me. We concluded by stating where we stand, which isn't any where in particular. We aren't in a relationship, even a poly amorous one, we definitely aren't partners, friends isn't quite right. With us going separate directions we aren't really a thing one way or another. There is possibility after the roadtrip for something to take shape, but until then we will just be keeping eachother in the loop. I recall her saying she wants a partner to sleep in the same bed with each night, to wake up together and to move throughout the world together. To care for a shared community, to depend on each other and keep each other accountable to the goals and growth, to practice and prayer. I don't know if I can be that, or would be satisfied im trying to be that.

Next I went to play guitar and Trisha came in from the garden saying she was gunna walk back to her and Roman's apartment. I said I'd give her a ride and we could hang out afterward. We chatted for a bit and got stoned. I played the guitar and she was being a bit over baring taking care of my needs. Asking if I needed anything, wanted water or beverages. I felt her stress and anxiety. She began cleaning things up. Roman came back and we watched some TV. It was nice being with him even though we didn't talk much. I felt sad seeing them feed into each other's habits. They seemed stuck and unwilling to get out. I no longer felt the need to deal with it but simply wished for their circumstances to improve. In sorrow I left and came back to my own bed to turn in for the last night in a while to be spent at Pine st.

[snickiebear]

My bby 🖤 3, 7, 10, 16, 17!

mittens!!!!!! :)))))))))))

3. Do you write fics from start or finish, or jump around?

i try my best to have one big project going at a time, with maybe some small ones on the side. it would stress me the fuck out if i had like more than one major serious project open at a time cause i’d have to split myself and i dont think thats fair for readers, who won’t get the best quality, and to me because i’m pretty busy in real life (highschool and college kid here folks lmao, i am,,, swamped with so much work, but grind now, earn the fruits of labor later. at least, that’s the theory.)

as for the small ones, ill write self indulgent (well,,, most of the things i write are self indulgent) one-shots just to give myself a break or get something out of my head, which is always nice after making a milestone on a longfic >:)))

7. Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

oh goodness..... it all depends to be honest. i think the hardest part is being in the right mindset for that particular project? for ol&w that fic is particularly dark and severely complex in the sense of the theme, the tone, how the world is built and such, so i have to be in the right mood and mindset to be able to give it justice. 

also, editing. i fucking hate editing. but im also a worrier and have posting anxiety and YET i always have mistakes. at this point i’m like whateva, ill go back and fix it at one point or another, as long as its digestible, you know? i’m just lucky i have a dear friend who loves me enough to read through my brain dump of half coherent thoughts. (fun fact! most of the things i post are the first drafts, i don’t usually rewrite unless i have to or i plain hate it, which isn’t common tbh... which might reflect in my writing but meh)

10. Do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

OOOO GOOD QUESTION!!

its definitely a toss up. writing the intricate nature of the plot is so much fun, all the layers, all the thought, the foreshadowing, the blink and you’ll miss it moments. its so much fun and i definitely rub my hands and laugh evilly whenever i write something so deliciously good.

WORLD BUILDING. that is something i pride myself in. if you ever read ol&w you’ll be able to see it clear cut and shining, or if you read my og work (that i’ll hopefully begin posting in july or so) you’ll see it there. world building is my favorite THING EVER. i LOVE IT. especially fantasy world building because i can make shit up and it be this itty bitty thing and suddenly its HUGE later. god i love it. 

but also, the words that come from the mouth are so precious for the fic. honestly, i wish i was funnier to where i could write witty dialogue, but alas, i’ve always been the “much too serious mom friend” so i always end up with a bit darker dialogue, though i do love it. 

my favorite thing is writing light hearted dialogue and fluffy plotlines and having underlying tension and down right ugliness to it. blink, my loves, and you’ll miss it. ;))

16.  What is your most underrated fic?

ooo hmm, let me think tbh 

in my opinion, it would be a cocoon in the heart, a spark in the brain because i love leesaku. so much. and here i got to write them in my fav little way, a little sad and a bit raw. 

OR god’s pity (also, any fic in so come meet me in the garden (where the angels sing),,, i love those fics so much). GOD’S PITY WAS MY FAV from shikasaku week. i was so excited to share that one, its my favorite. any and all subs in that shikasaku series im super proud of and really love and i really do wish more people would read them :’’’’)

17. What fic are you most proud of?

most definitely of love and war (for now at least lmao) because of the amount of planning and world building and what im doing to the characters. im having so much fun driving everyone insane... corruption arcs are my favorite.

the intimacy of being understood, my first fic on here! took me like a good month and a half to write that sucka, my first child. i really love it tbh, my first dip into the naruto pool ;))

a drop of power (there is an ocean), something i wrote for ks month and through writer’s block that i love with all my heart. its funky and messy and i love my word play and phrasing in this one. its a lil serious, its a lil fluffy, its a lil sad. 

OR you taught me how to miss behave; a birthday gift for @elenorie, the actual love of my life. i love the stark contrast between the “poetry” and then the actual fic, that combo of sickly fluff and looming seriousness. 

MITTENS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!! you know i absolutely LOVE hearing from you and picking your brain!!!! 

pick my brain, lets see what we find

[carrera-ffxiv]

Nine (9.0)

Preceding stories: Morning Shadows Pt 4 Morning Shadows Pt 5

In life, we often lose our way and hate engulfs the best of us. In the midst of this anguish, forgiveness of oneself is the only way forward.

Along the highest reaches of Kugane’s structures, a lone, small Raen woman sat. Her dazzling blue eye would peek out as crimson hair flowed at the gentle insistence of the cool breeze. Her porcelain fingers brought a cigarette up, legs crossed as she looked down over the city. She watched people mingle, merchants interact, and ships transit in and out of the bustling Hingan port. It made her angry and discontent to see such a vibrant Hingan town unburnt by Imperial rule. She was mad at their concern with self-preservation as her homeland of Doma was on the brink of destruction. It would be something she would never forget.

A plume of smoke slithered from Rina’s lips. It was one of many habits her mentor had left imprinted on her. She needed time to reflect and think upon all the events that had occurred until recently. A hand ran along her neck and rested on her scar, another gift passed onto her by her teacher. She gave a wry chuckle as she thought, ‘I guess I deserved that one…’

Nostalgia lightly kissed her mind as she drifted to when she had first met him. A now nameless village in Doma. Life was much less complex back then. In spite of imperial yoke, life in the orphanage was simple: No abuse, no sad stories, just family. That’s what they were to her. The caretakers were kind and the children rowdy. As a young teen there she helped shepard and guide the other children, but that wasn’t the end goal for her, she didn’t want to stay there forever. She knew the day would come where she would leave for bigger and greater things.

She would become famous and rich, and donate all of her excess money so that children like her could live a good life too. Such a naive pipe dream. She never knew her birth parents, so the others there were her family. There was no sadness or resentment, or lingering emptiness from it. How could you resent people you never knew?

It was there that she first laid eyes on him. She had asked the caretakers who the scary-looking man in the black suit was. A kind man, they said. He would come by every month without fail. She never knew what it was he did or why he came there, but he could not have been the kind man they said he was. Perhaps he was coercing them. His deep brown eyes were somehow both cruel and emotionless, his scars intimidating. Rumors flew among the young residents.

She laughed at the thought they had as children; that he was some kind of kami of death who would come and punish the bad ones. An evil spirit made flesh manifest. While untrue, they weren’t completely wrong either. What she did not know then was that he was from the very town she lived in. It was hard to make that connection at first. The man had a very Eorzean name and as far as she was concerned looked somewhat different than the typical Doman.

He continued to visit over the years and eventually he no longer wore a suit. The man settled in the village with a wife and child, seemingly an early retirement. Everything was fine until the insurrection happened. When the line of Imperial succession came into question many Doman fought for freedom. They should have foreseen what would happen should they fail. They should have considered the consequences their actions would wrought. The Imperial gauntlet around the throat of Doma would tighten and entire towns were levelled in response. That day they both lost everything they had. Their hometown no longer existed.

“Do you want revenge?” His voice rasped with pity and rage.

What a foolish little girl she was. Nothing but ashes remained in her hands. Why did the kami choose her to survive? She often wondered even to this day; and now, again, she wondered why she was spared by Hadriel. She had fought tooth and nail to get to where she was, to join the organization he returned to, to get a seat at the same table her mentor rose to and sat at. One of the pillars of the organization, one of the ten seats. All for power and revenge. Somewhere along the way he seemed to become disillusioned in their quest and had wandered off. But she never gave up. She never stopped looking.

She thought back to when she fought against her mentor and the witch, Carrera. “I, Carrera Blackheart of the Seventh Seat do hereby declare your life forfeit, Rina Inoue.”

The seats denoted their ranks in the Council of Shadows that led the Black Blades of Doma. Rina sat at the Ninth. Naturally, Carrera was supposed to be senior to her, and perhaps stronger or more cunning in one aspect or another. Rising amongst the seats could only mean one of two things- your actions were meritorious, or you killed the person above you.

Hadriel and Carrera’s angry voices rang clearly in her mind.

“I’m trying to stop the two of you from killing each other. We were all friends once. That must count for something.”

“We can’t let her simply walk away. You’ve grown too soft, Hadriel.” 

“Perhaps I have. I’ve seen enough death for my lifetime and many more. I’m getting tired of it, Carrera.” A gentle and sincere tone had come from his voice, it caught her off guard in the moment. “Besides, when Garlemald comes in full strength, we will have need of both your blades. I’m not saying she gets away with everything, but her plans were laid low, the fruits of her labor destroyed, her underlings torn from her, and she’s all but beaten down to the ground at this point. That’s enough.”

It was very much like him. In truth, he was always soft. At least, to her. As stern as he acted, as cold as he wanted to seem, he was always laden with guilt. She could see it in his eye, see it weigh on his shoulders. Not only that, but there was something else that burdened him, something only she noticed from the years they spent together. His eye: it carried a sadness about it every time it rested on her. She never felt like she was enough for him. As a person, as a friend, as a student; she was destined to live short of his expectations. She relived the words she spoke to him:

“You might have tracked down who sold our village out to the Garleans but you never did find who paid the traitor his gil, did you?”  Her hand was shaking at the time, blood-soaked fingers wrote a single Doman character on the ground. It was simply a number. The number ‘one’.

She sighed and flicked the cigarette into the Kugane breeze. She was given a third chance at life. She needed to know why. She had many more questions, but too few answers. Rina brought a folded piece of paper out of her pocket. She looked down to the document that held a sigil of a gray wolf.

[akinnie75]

Until Spring (1/2)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slow Burn, Romance, Angst, Fantasy

Word Count: 17k

Summary: Freesia Island has the greenest Summer, calmest Autumn, and purest Winter. But their Spring has so many flowers that the land itself becomes a rainbow. It’s a place that you’ve always wanted to travel to after hearing the tales of that island. And one day, you finally got to be there in person, but not being forced into an unwanted marriage by the king himself.

“Once upon a time, there were four gods who were in charge of watching over the four seasons of earth: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. One day, the God of Spring, was on earth when he fell in love with a flower name Freesia. Every day and night, they would see each other, sharing tales, singing, and laughing. Each second they spent was valuable because, deep down, they both knew that time was ticking—that Spring will have to leave once his time on Earth has ended.

“The day came to an end, and eventually the God of Summer came, but without mercy. The sun pierced Freesia, drying her of water. Then came the God of Autumn, deteriorating her once beautiful petals. Lastly, the God of Winter was the most cold-hearted of them all, making Freesia suffer in the freezing temperature.

“When Spring finally returned, he was heartbroken when he discovered that his beloved flower withered to the ruthlessness of the other three seasons. He cried, and cried, and cried. And once he was done, he stood up and wasted no time growing flowers again, in hopes that one day, Freesia would blossom and return.”

By the side of your futon, your mother sits on her knees. With you tucked into bed, your mother is astonished to discover you covered in tears.

Complementing your tears is the sound of cicadas crying. Since the humid summer is here, the house is victim to the moist air. To distract the six-year-old you from the humidity, your mother thought it was best to tell you a story.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

“That’s so sad! Did Spring ever find Freesia?” You ask with an expression that begs for a happy ending.

“No...the God of Spring is still looking for her.”

You look as if you’re about to release a lake’s worth of tears. To prevent that from doing so, your mother hurriedly thinks of anything to soothe you.

“B-but that’s why people of Freesia Island hold the Blossom Festival every first day of Spring! Everyone there feels the same way as you do, so they also want to help Spring find his loved one.”

“Has it worked?”

“I’m not sure, but with the help of thousands of people, I’m certain that they reunited.”

You sigh in relief, and your mother chuckles at your naivety.

“How do you know? Did you see them?”

“No...I’ve never been to Freesia Island, but your father has.”

“Really?!” You sit up from your bed, jumping up and down excitedly. “Is it true that the island changes color every season?”

Your mother nods. “Yup. Your father told me that Summer has fields of green. Autumn has the reddest leaves, and Winter covers the entire land with white snow.”

Your jaw drops, imagining what each season looks like with your limited imagination. Even without a clear picture, it excites you.  Born and raised on a tropical island where every season is just hot, you don’t know how it feels like to experience four seasons. You thought that seasons didn’t exist.

“But your father said that the most beautiful season is Spring. There are so many different colors that you lose count of  how many colors there are”

You grab your mother’s arm and shake it. “When I get older, let’s go to Freesia Island and help Freesia and Spring find each other again! Please??”

She chuckles. “Sure! Your father is good friends with King Kim, after all. One day, we’ll go, the three of us.”

You’re excited about the future. While thinking about all the things you and your parents are doing, you lay back down, staring at the ceiling made of dried palm tree leaves. In your innocent, little mind, you promise that you’ll be the one to reunite the two lovers. You close your eyes, falling asleep to the sound of the cicadas crying endlessly.

———

SPRING

At the top of a cliffside, you walk in your bare feet, holding a wooden bowl. Inside it is an array of fruits. Standing before you is a tombstone. After stepping closer, you get on your knees, letting the tips of your fingers stroke the name etched onto the stone, spelling your mother’s name.

Below the stone is an empty bowl with rotten fruits. There’s a trail of black ants taking pieces to their colony, and the smell is horrible since it’s been under the scorching sun all day. You brush the ants off, picking it up and replacing it with a new set of colorful fruits.

“Good morning, Mom. Did you sleep well?”

Unsurprisingly, there’s no response.

“These little pests keep taking your food away, huh? Either that or they’re taking it to you somewhere in the afterlife,” You change to a fetal position, your arms hugging your knees as you hold it close to your chest. “Did you know that they just celebrated my eighteenth birthday a few days ago? Dad ate so much roasted pork that he didn’t leave any for me!”

Despite passing away many years ago, you still vividly remember her smile. She was the most beautiful woman ever that you’ll never compare to her.

“I have to tell you what happened yesterday too! It was hilarious.”

You go on for hours, chatting with the stone about your day yesterday. Even though your voice drifted away into the vast jungle, you still spoke like there was another person listening. You strongly believed in a life after death, so you were certain that your mother heard every word.

Sitting next to the tombstone, your shoulder leans on it while you stare off the cliff. From a distance, you can see your small village, and on the side, there are squares of plantations. This is the place that you’ve known since the day you were born. Although it was your childhood dream to wander off the island, you can’t imagine a better place to live in than Pitaya Island.

“The village has changed a lot. Most of the villagers are old, so I have to be the one responsible for physical labor. It’s so tiring! Don’t tell Dad, but I think he’s getting old too..” You whisper.

You chuckle, but it doesn't last long.

“Granny still cries for you, you know? Every year, on your birthday. We all celebrate it…”

You pluck a single grass from the ground, peeling the slim plant in half.

“...But it doesn’t feel like we do. It’s more like...we’re mourning. Even Dad—the toughest man in the entire land—cries,” you turn your head at the stone, smiling. “I try not to cry. I’m going to become the next ruler of this land, right? I have to show the people what I’m made of.”

You lay down, not noticing that the ants have now claimed the fresh fruits. You drown yourself to the sound of birds humming melodies and bushes being brushed against the wind. With the blazing sun beaming, you put your hand over it, casting a shadow over your face.

Your throat is dry from all the talking, but you still want to say more. You knew your mother only for a few years, but you two had a close relationship. You told her everything, and it felt like she told you everything. Even now after she’s dead, she’s the one who you talk to the most.

“Hey...Mom...sometimes I wish you can respond to me. I know I said that before...but whenever I talk to you, I feel like I’m going insane. I think for once...I’d like to hear your voice one more time.”

You’re silent for a few seconds, not shocked that your wish won't come true. You scoff at your outrageous wish. It isn’t like a dead person can answer you.

That’s when you hear the sound of someone shouting. You sit up, staring at your mother’s grave, thinking that she came back to life. However, the scream was too far for it to be your mother. It was almost like an echo.

You stare straight at your village, discovering that the source of the shout came from there. You hadn’t noticed it before, but you see the villagers running about and shouting. Instantaneously, you knew that there was something happening. You’re quick to your feet, sprinting down the hill as fast as you can.

———

Once you make it back, you glide behind a tree, your back hitting against the trunk. You peer over to see what the commotion is. There’s a group of foreigners walking about, terrorizing the people. Children are crying and elderly women are screaming. The old men are shaking, unable to move from their spot. The village has become a wreck, with baskets of fruits and seeds tossed over and huts destroyed.

These foreigners with pale skin and dressed in linen clothes kick those who are crawling on their hands and knees, laughing at their pitiful state. You cover your mouth, petrified to see the sight before you. Just hours ago, your village was in peace, everyone going along their daily lives.

Your hands and knees are trembling, barely being able to stand properly. Your people are in harm’s way, but your cowardice is preventing you from saving them. You’re afraid to get into the crossfire. While no one has spotted you yet, you think it might be the perfect opportunity to escape.

However, your pride reignites when you see your father. The man that you admire the most, fighting against one of the enemies. He and his opponent exchange swings, sparks flying when the blades collide. You root for your father, praying that his massive strength will scare the man away.

But that hope drains in an instant when the man, being younger, swiffer, and stronger than your father, seizes him within seconds. He deflects your father’s swing, putting so much force that the sword goes flying out of his hands. He then kicks your father, making him fall to his knees. To see your father—the who your idol—on his knees in front of the enemy’s feet is an ultimate defeat.

His opponent stares down at your father, not an ounce of sympathy. Even from the distance where you’re at, you can see the hollowness in his eyes. It’s almost as if his eyes are entirely covered with black.

With the last of his pride, your father snarls at the man. There’s an emblem on his shirt, one that you don’t recognize but one he knows too well.

“You…do not deserve to wear the emblem of Freesia.” Your father mutters in anguish.

He growls at the young man, and still, no reaction. It’s just those damp eyes of his, glaring down at him. To end his misery, the man raises his sword, prepared to end his life.

That’s when you couldn’t just stand there any longer. You don’t know where this surge of confidence came from, it might’ve been because you were afraid to lose another precious person, but what you do know is that you have to stop this.

You grab your father’s fallen sword, nearly losing your balance for clumsily picking it up. And just like that, you were successful in making your sword collide with the man’s weapon. You hit so hard that you made a crack in the blade. The man’s sword flies out of his hand, absolutely astonished with what just occurred in those few seconds. You give him a ferocious glare, standing right in between him and your father. Although cracked, you point the tip of the sword directly at his face.

Your sudden appearance makes time itself freeze. Everybody has their eyes on you, waiting for your next move. However, you don’t have another move. You impulsively came out of hiding after seeing your father in danger. You were willing to do anything to protect him, but now you’re stuck in a position where you can lose your life.

To your amazement, the man doesn’t make a second attempt to fight back. He gets into a casual posture, loosening his body and putting his hand to his hip. In contrast to his calm demeanor, your sword still points at his nose.

“I was unaware that the king had a daughter.” The man speaks, but to whom, you don’t know.

You raise an eyebrow, questioning why he would care.

“You’re not just any princess. You have the guts to get in between a fight between two men.” He says with a stoic expression.

“Wh-wh-who are you?!” You attempted but failed to hide your stutter. “L-leave this island at once.”

“(Y/N), what are you doing?! Leave while you still can.” Your father exclaims.

“So your name is (Y/N). A unique one that I’ve never heard of. I am King Jungkook from Freesia Island.”

Freesia…Island? It wasn’t registering immediately, but after giving it some time, your jaw drops at the revelation that this man is the ruler of Freesia. You thought that the people there are kind, including the king. What happened?

“King Jungkook? Where is the former king??” Your father shouts.

“King Kim? My father defeated him in a battle and won, pronounced as king for decades until his late passing, passing the responsibility to me.”

“King Kim…is dead…?” Your father asks in disbelief.

You have no clue what’s unfolding. There’s an untold story that your father kept from you, and you’re itching to know.

Jungkook grabs the blade with his hand. You tighten the grip to keep it raised, but with him wearing a leather glove and being stronger than you, he was able to pull it down in no time.

“You have the courage of a soldier, but there’s no real fierceness in your eyes,” he states. “I did not come here to fight.”

He raises his hands in the air to admit defeat.

“ I came here with the intention to negotiate. It was your people who started it.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure if this is a trick or if he means it. Your father finally gets back on his feet, pulling you back to protect you.

“What is it that you want? Take it and leave my people alone.”

Jungkook looks around the village, only stopping when his eyes are locked on the plantations of pitaya plants.

“That,” he points. “I want the exotic fruits that you grow. My land has been decreasing in food exports due to lack of rain.”

“And what do we get in exchange for this?”

“Protection. We raided your island without issue. No one, besides you and your daughter, was capable enough to stand against us. And yet, you both failed. There are no walls to defend you people from danger, and I heard rumors that pirates occasionally pay a visit.”

Your father gulps. Jungkook is true, which you find terrifying. How much did he study before coming here? Despite the beauty of this island being isolated from the rest of the mainland, the land consists of only children and elderly people. There have been so many pirate attacks that most people your age have died from risking their lives to protect their loved ones.

“I will extend my military base here, and whenever there is a raid, then there shouldn’t be a problem.”

The fruits grown here is your island’s pride and glory. They are the symbols that make your people stand out from others. To have them conquered by foreigners breaks your heart.

Your father is hesitant to agree with the negotiation. When he looks around, he’s in no position to fight Jungkook again. Even if he was successful in landing a strike on him, is men can group around and kill him. Having no choice but to admit defeat, your father lowers his head.

“I...I acce—”

“And one more thing.”

Jungkook’s gaze turns to you, and a chill runs down your spine.

“To finalize our negotiation and officially connect our two kingdoms together, I’ll also marry (Y/N).”

“What?!” Both you and your father exclaimed in unison.

You beg that it’s only an unfunny joke, but that serious expression of his tells you otherwise. Why take more when he’s already taken what’s important?

“Marriage is to signify an alliance, correct? It’s similar to signing a contract. I’ll take her with me to make sure that you won’t do anything behind my back. In addition to that, I do need someone who knows how to farm these plants on my land.”

“That isn’t a marriage! That’s taking hostage! You’ve already taken more than necessary...but my daughter...she’s the only person valuable I have left.” Your father’s voice cracks.

It’s hard to hear your father sound so weak. He’s trying to stand tall for everyone, but you see his hands shaking.

“Then...are you willing to sacrifice your people for your daughter?”

“That’s enough!” You shout. “This...this is my life that we’re talking about, so it’s me who makes the final decision.”

You look at Jungkook, your bottom lip quivering.

“I...accept.”

Not only your father, but everyone is shocked. It’s a tough decision, but in order to prevent bloodshed, you have to make that difficult choice. It’s against your desires, but you’re not worth the entire village.

Finding this to be an easy victory, especially seeing the advantage he was in, Jungkook picks up his sword from the ground and walks off. “Very well, we will leave tomorrow at dawn. Bring everything valuable to you.”

Your father grabs you by your arms, shaking you. His eyes well up, fighting back the tears upon the devastating realization that not only did he lose his wife, but will lose his daughter too.

“(Y/N), do you understand what you’re saying?! You’ve never gone off this island before!”

You gently brush your father’s hands off, pulling a soft but forced smile. “Dad, it’s okay. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. If it means protecting the villagers, then it’s my responsibility as your daughter to fulfill that duty. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see Freesia Island.”

“But...but not in this circumstance!” He falls to his knees, too ashamed to look up. “I’m sorry...I failed. As king, and as a father.”

You hug him for comfort. “You didn’t fail at anything. You did your best, and I’m glad that you did.”

But underneath these gentle words, you were nervous. Your heart is racing, regret weighing down on you as you secretly beg for a miracle to stop you from leaving. You wanted to leave the island and venture out into the world one day, but with the hopes of returning to your home. Being married to Jungkook could possibly mean that you’ll never see this place ever again, and it gives you a heartache.

While you and your father hug, Jungkook watches from afar. He stares for quite some time, though, no one can decipher what his thoughts are. In the midst of this, the captain of the crew approaches him.

“Your Majesty, is it really alright for you to marry her? You have an array of bachelorettes coming from more powerful kingdoms in line for you. Are you sure you want to marry her just for fruits?”

He traces his eyes to the captain, throwing dagger eyes at him. Goosebumps form on his skin with Jungkook’s looks that could kill.

“It’s not my late father’s choice to pick whoever I marry. Now hurry and prepare the ship for tomorrow.”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty.”

———

Later that evening, Jungkook and his men spend the night on their ship. Meanwhile, you’re sitting on your futon as your maids are helping with sorting out your belongings. Many of them are crying. You’re supposed to be preparing for your departure, but you’re occupied with cheering them up.

“(Y/N), you’re too young. We should’ve done something to prevent this.” One maid cries.

“We’re so sorry we couldn’t do anything.”

“I-it’s okay, really! You all worry about me too much. I’m not a child anymore.”

No matter what you tell them, they won’t listen. You understand that they’re indescribably worried for you, but there’s nothing you can do to change your fate. You wish you can tell them that, but your words are drowned out by their sorrowful cries.

Your father knocks on the door. “Can I come in?”

“Ah, sure.”

“Pardon the intrusion, but I would like to speak to my daughter privately.”

The women wipe their tears, scurrying out the room. Once they all left, your father enters, sitting on the hard wooden ground next to you. His eyes are red and swollen, presumably from crying. Though you try not to show it, it breaks your heart to see your father this emotionally wrecked.

“What is it, Dad?”

“I thought long and hard about the different outcomes that could’ve happened earlier today. There were so many alternatives that could’ve occurred, but no matter the outcomes, I feel like the one you’ve chosen for us was for the best. We are a peaceful colony who strive to find a solution with no bloodshed, and I failed to represent who we are.”

“No, don’t speak of yourself that way! I didn’t do anything special either. Dad, I...I was a coward. I had to fight with myself to finally step in when I could’ve done it with no hesitation.”

“No, you did well, and you are a brave woman, just like your mother. Nobody is born with bravery.”

You choke on your tears, swallowing the urge to let it go. You saw yourself as a failure, just as your father did in himself.

“But...since this is for the better, this is the least that I can do.”

He takes out a necklace, and at the center of it is a black pearl. He puts it on around your neck, brushing your hair behind your ear, doting on his daughter who has become a mature woman.

“This used to belong to your mother. We intended on giving it to you once you got married...at least not like this. It’s an important necklace, passed down through generations. It works as a good luck charm, your past ancestors will watch over you during your journey into the new world.”

“Dad I...Thank you.”

“Promise me that you won’t put yourself in danger and that one day you’ll return.”

You don’t know for sure if you’re going to come back, but your father needs a confirmation, otherwise, he won’t be able to live with himself knowing that he gave his only child to danger. He needs comfort in your words, even if they weren’t authentic.

“I promise.”

He pulls you in for one last hug, unable to hold back the tears. He cries on your shoulder as you pat him on the back. You reassured him that you’ll be fine, despite not knowing what the future holds. While he sobs uncontrollably, you listen to the sound of crickets and night-birds humming, might possibly being the last time you’ll hear this.

———

Before dawn, you trek to the top of the hill with a lantern since it’s still dark, where your mother’s grave stands. With only a spare amount of time left, you wanted to say goodbye to her last. Across from the tombstone, you sit in a fetal position after setting the lantern down. You thought about what to say, but your mind went all sorts of directions that you weren’t able to think of anything.

“So...uhm...I’m getting married...and I’m off to Freesia.”

You suck your lips in, thinking of something else to say.

“It’s kind of funny, Mom. I always dreamed of having a marriage as beautiful as yours and Dad’s. But I’m getting married to a scary man. This guy came to take our food and exchange it for profit. Horrible, right? What’s worse is that this marriage...is just an excuse to hold me hostage and make sure that Dad doesn’t do anything.”

You twindle with your thumbs, your bottom lip quivering. All night you tried not to cry because you dislike crying in front of people, but since you’re alone, you feel like releasing everything.

“I feel like I failed. I said yes so easily that I wish that I put more of a fight. I hate myself because I caved in without even trying. You should’ve seen Dad. He keeps saying that it’s his fault, but he did everything in his power to stop this. I know I should be the one to be crying, but everybody else did. I wanted to pretend that at least I don’t regret my choice...but…”

One tear escapes your eye, and you wipe it as quick as possible. However, that single tear opened the floodgates, and now you can’t stop crying.

“I’m scared...Mom. I don’t want to go. Please, help me.” You hide your face behind your knees, letting everything out. You cry so much that your hiccups hurt.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook had followed you closely behind. He’s leaning against a tree, listening to your cries. The way he watches you isn’t apathetically. He heard every word you said, your silent cries for help. Indeed, you showed yourself as a confident woman, but like everybody else, there’s a vulnerable side that you can’t hide.

———

Standing by the edge of the ship, you stare at Freesia Island with curious eyes. No longer in your clothes made for tropical weather, Jungkook has given you a thick, long-sleeved dress that makes you itch. At first, it was unbearable to be in tight clothing, but finding comfort in it after heading north to a colder region.

Hours later, the ship sets ashore by the deck, and your jaw drops by the difference from his kingdom to yours. It’s riddled with pastel-colored buildings, a land as flat as the wooden pier itself. There’s no tree taller than ten feet, and the skies are blanketed by gray clouds. The citizens of this land are wearing the same clothes as you—dull, worn-out woolen cloths.

Simply by the sight of Jungkook is enough to make the people nearby move away, not even darting an eye at him. Already there’s an immediate difference in the people’s mannerisms. It’s only his ship crew that helps drop the ropes and planks for them to get off. None of the men don’t bother with helping you off the ship, and it definitely was a struggle for you since you’ve never ridden anything as gigantic as this.

Sloppily sliding off the rope, the pain from the friction instinctively makes you let go prematurely. You lose balance, landing on your buttocks rather than your feet. The men laugh at your clumsiness, and you snarl in return.

A carriage arrives shortly thereafter. You’ve never seen a horse before, so the presence of what amazes you. Although you were frightened by the horses, you manage to drag yourself inside. Inside the carriage, you and Jungkook sit across from each other, no words exchanged. You’re speechless by the height of the buildings, peering your head out to see if you can spot the top. There were times when your head almost collided into other carriages, but you were quick to save yourself.

While riding through the capital, you’ve never seen so many people before. There are small market stands, selling food and items you’ve never seen before. The streets are so condensed, the volume of the environment being louder than the summer cicadas. Although more industrialized, the air here feels thin, as if the air is combined with smog coming from these unfamiliar metal devices coming from buildings and sidewalks.

But what you were looking forward to the most were the vast plains of endless flowers. Not once did you see it, even though it should be mid-Spring. Where is the blue sky? The green grass? The freesias? It’s building after building, blanketed by a gray sky.

———

Eventually, you two made it to the entrance of the castle, which is beyond your imagination. The castle alone has to be nearly the same size as Pitaya Island. The gate lowers to create a bridge for the carriage to pass through. The walls are as white as the doves that fly over the gate that surrounds the castle, spotless of dirt.

A red carpet has been rolled out for the pair, a continuous line of maids and butlers standing just outside the carpet’s golden line. They bow down once you two walk out of the carriage. For a second, you almost believed that they were dolls—each and every person looking so identical. Not a single wrinkle on their uniforms, and their clothes the exact same.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you and walks ahead of you. You try to catch up to him, but with the long gown, you accidentally step on the end, causing you to trip and fall face first. Your head spins, and your nose hurts from the impact. When you look up, no one has come forth to help you, not even Jungkook. He simply stares at you, as if telepathically sending you a message to hurry up. You crease your eyebrows and raise your lower lip to sulk. You stand back up and continue to follow him from behind.

———

Once you two made it into the main hall, you were separated from Jungkook, being swarmed by maids and is taken to your private room. They waste no time to prepare for the wedding ceremony. Your clothes are practically torn off, then you are pushed into a marble tub of warm water. One of them tries to take off your pearl necklace, but you refuse to let her touch it. You’re washed, from head to toe, feeling violated as the maids rush to clean you of your dirt. Within seconds, the clear water turns gray from the dirt.

You’re put into your wedding dress that is one size too small. The maids have to force the back zipper up, and with the corset already suffocating you, you have no choice but to suck your belly in more. The maids put on this strange powder-like substance on your face, making your skin paler, your lips so red like a ripe mango and blue matted over your eyelids.

In this dressing room, you sit in front of the makeup stand, unable to recognize yourself in the mirror. You almost touch your face, but it’s immediately slapped by one of the oldest-looking maids.

“Don’t touch your face, Your Highness! It’ll mess the makeup.”

You rub your hand, already feeling the urge to scratch your itchy nose. Your face feels heavy after being caked with powder and paint. By the time you finished, the sun has already begun setting. The day went by so fast, but it still has yet to end, and it ends with your wedding.

“King Jungkook is almost done with his preparation. In a few minutes, we will begin the engagement ceremony.”

You nod, not even listening to half of what she said. You can’t believe that you’re in Freesia, but it doesn’t look like the stories you heard from your parents. It was an absolute disappointment to see a colorless town with soulless people walking the streets.

———

“Once the double doors open and music is on, you’ll walk down the aisle. Make sure that each step you take is light, don’t let anyone hear your steps. Don’t walk too fast to where your veil accidentally exposes your face—it’s only for the king to see. Letting anyone else see is bad luck. Do you understand?”

The elderly maid lectures you for the fourth time, and even still, you’re unclear with the instructions. This is all new to you, confused with why everything has to be precise for one event. To avoid getting yelled at again, you nod your head, letting her know that you understand.

“Good. It’s almost time. Be prepared.” She stands by the side.

You stand in front of the double doors that lead to the throne room. The cue of the music starts playing, and you catch your breath. The doors crack open, and you’re met with a long aisle leading to the end, where two thrones are erected. You take in a deep breath, exhaling before entering the room.

Similar to the front of the castle, the room is filled with servants, their heads hanging low. By the end of the room is Jungkook in a blue shirt and white slacks. Next to him is a priest. Just like what the old maid said, you take light steps, and this time, you make sure that you don’t step on your own dress.

You successfully make it to the other side, where you stand in front of Jungkook. He truly is a handsome fellow up close, no matter how cold his eyes seem. Having no clue what to do since the maid didn’t tell you anything else, you stand there. The priest opens the book, reading a passage aloud. Curious, you lean over to see what he’s reading, but you can’t even understand what it says.

Once the reciting is complete, Jungkook leans over, making you jolt. You take a step back, but remembering that this is the part where he lifts the veil from your face, you freeze. He takes the ring from the stand, putting it on your ring finger. You assume that you have to do the same.

With that finished, he leans over, closing his eyes and tilting his head. Your lips meet, and your eyes see nothing but his face.

“Congratulations, you two are hereby pronounced as Freesia’s new king and queen.” The priest announces.

There are little applauds, but no cheers. You push him away, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. You look disgusted with the insincere kiss, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind.

It’s been only a day since you been on Freesia, and it’s nothing like you thought it would be. Every second spent here, it makes you miss your home even more.

And thus, begins a new chapter in your life, with a man who forced you into an unwanted marriage.

———

In your dressing room, you change out of your dress behind a wall divider. It was unbearable being in it for hours, and you can finally breathe once you took it off. One of the maids hands you a nightgown, making you dread having to wear yet another agonizing dress.

With the thick layer of makeup wiped off and your hair loose from the hair clips’ restraints, you’re ready to drop to the ground and sleep. Today was so busy that you never had the chance to relax. Now that everything is done and over with, the exhaustion is finally setting in.

“Your Highness, please follow me to your bedroom.” A maid speaks up.

“Okay.”

You walk closely behind her, looking back and seeing the rest of the maids folding the gown that you had just taken off and dusting the corners of the room.

“Uhm...might I ask...but where will I be sleeping?” You ask.

“You will be sleeping in Jungkook’s bedroom.”

You nearly stumble over your own two feet. “E-excuse me?”

“I apologize, was I not clear?”

“N-no, his room...you say...Will there be a separate bed for me?”

“No need to be timid, Your Highness. You two are newly weds, after all.”

It isn’t that you’re shy, but you barely know Jungkook. Everyone knows how awkward it is sleeping in the same bed with a complete stranger. Despite the bond as husband and wife, there is no real relationship underneath those titles.

“Is it possible for me to have my own room…?”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but it is not in my power to break traditions. If you like, then you can discuss this matter with the king.”

You knew she wasn’t going to agree with it, but it didn’t hurt to try.

“Do not worry. From what I’ve seen, King Jungkook isn’t in his private room most of the time. He’s usually busy with sword practice or locked up in his office. In fact, he may be practicing right now.”

You sigh in relief. Although, you’re amazed by the amount of strength he has. He just returned home, but he’s quick to going back to work. It makes you feel awful that you’re tired even though you haven’t done anything too physical.

———

Your jaw drops at the beauty of the room. The walls are painted with articulate designs of flowers and stems stretched in all four corners. There’s a couch in the corner with a coffee table. Against the wall is the king-sized bed, more pillows can you can count and a red blanket tucked neatly into the mattress. Next to it is a nightstand.

There isn’t much in the room, which is why it looks big. There’s also a private restroom just off the side, and a closet that’s big enough to become a room itself. The candles have been lit for the night, and it seems like they’ve been on for quite a while since so much of the wax has melted.

“If there’s anything you need, then just let us know as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

“Well then, goodnight, Your Highness.”

She closes the door behind you. The first thing you do is touch everything. Every piece of furniture is stitched to perfection. The material is silky, so smooth that it feels satisfying stroking it. You check the closet next, and it’s filled with all of Jungkook’s clothes. He has so many that you don’t think your clothes will fit in. You walk out to the balcony with a candlelight in hand. You can see the garden from here, spreading through the back part. That’s where you’ll be planting the fruits soon.

From the corner of your eye, there’s a separate building detached from the castle. When you squint your eyes, you see Jungkook swinging a wooden sword. He’s hitting a scarecrow multiple times, aiming at the pressure points. The maid wasn’t exaggerating when she said that he would be practicing right now. It’s so late, so you don’t see the reason for training.

You watch him for a few more seconds before yawning and calling it a night. Pressing your palm on the mattress, you wonder if it’s alright for you to take space on Jungkook’s bed. Under your breath, you apologize to Jungkook and slide into bed. You stare at the empty side, imagining what it’s like to sleep next to him. But picturing the intimacy makes you blush, so you turn around and try to sleep the thought away. There’s no chance that you’ll ever let that monstrous man lay a finger on you.

You let out a light sigh, holding onto the necklace and praying that the night will go well for you. Before closing your eyes, you think about your mother.

———

“M-Mom? What are you doing?”

You’re back home again, but in child form. In front of your is your mother, her eyes red from sobbing as she pushes you into a small hole in the wall. Although you want to look around, your small body won’t let you. All you do is stare at your mother.

“Don’t worry about me. Stay hidden here and don’t let the bad men see or hear you, got it?”

In the background, black smoke pollutes the red sky. The smell of fire is overpowering. The screams of the villagers, hearing their voices be cut off followed by the sound of gunshots, deafens your ears.

Your mother gets up, but before she can run off, you grab her wrist, crying uncontrollably. “Mom! Don’t leave me, I’m scared…”

She stares at her only daughter, begging her not to leave, eyebrows raised as if not knowing how to soothe you. She gets on one knee, wrapping her arms, burying your face into her shoulder.

“I’m not leaving you, and I never will,” she kisses you on the forehead. “Even if you can’t see me, I’m there for you because I’m your mother.”

There was something off-putting about your mother’s final words, like she knew her fate was inevitable. She wasn’t going to be there to see you grow up, so she found the right words to have you stop crying, almost like an enchanting spell.

You swallow that lump in your throat, nodding your head before letting go of your mother. She smiles in relief, brushing your hair one last time. She steps back, her grin not once leaving her face.

Just then, a muscular man bursts through the door, startling you and your mother. Your mother freezes, face-to-face with one of the pirates who have raided the island. A malicious smile forms on his face, marching right for her. For a millisecond, you and your mother make eye contact, but you knew what her expression said:

‘Don’t make a single noise.’

You cover your mouth, stopping your cries from seeping from between your fingers. But no matter how tight you squeeze your mouth shut, your heart won’t stop pounding. You turn your attention to the tattoo of a black skull on the man’s bicep, glaring back at you with hollow eyes, proceeded by your mother’s screams.

———

You open your eyes, jolting your entire body. You shoot up your upper body, discovering that you’re covered in cold sweat. Your pounding heart is so loud that it almost sounds like it’s echoing. The tips of your fingers tremble.

When you look around to see that you’re in Jungkook’s bedroom, you sigh in relief. You haven’t had a nightmare like that in years, so it’s not a surprise that you’re shaken.

“A nightmare?” A familiar voice asks.

Standing by the bedside is Jungkook, taking off his leather gloves, not batting an eye at you. He was so quiet that you didn’t sense his presence whatsoever. It’s humiliating that he has to see you in this state, but you can’t undo what he’s already seen.

You shake your head. “No...it’s difficult adapting to this place.”

“It’s not hot enough for you to be sweating that much though.” He states as he points at your pillow.

With the candlelight illuminating by the nightstand, a dark shade is embedded into your pillow. You pat it down, your palm interacting with the sweat. You open your mouth to provide a counter argument, but you can’t think of anything from the top of your head.

“Well, since you’re awake, allow me to provide you with a bit of house rules. From here on out, you’ll be in charge of instructing the farmers on how to properly grow the dragon fruits. You will need to learn the ins and outs of this land, so the head maid will be responsible for scheduling etiquette lessons, academics, and so on.”

While you’ve already been made aware of the farming aspect, you weren’t expecting to be tutored. You want to retaliate because you never agreed to the later half of the deal, but Jungkook beats you to it and responds first.

“And don’t try to do anything sneaky. You don’t want to do anything that’ll cost the life of your people.”

A chill runs down your spin. The rules and threat don’t help with your anxiety either, putting more pressure onto your shoulders that you need to abide by the law he creates.

Once Jungkook finishes switching out from his muddy boots to indoor slippers, he strides to the doorway. You were about to call out after him, but you stopped yourself. This is the third time Jungkook has caught you by the tongue, and it’s annoying you.

You curl into a fetal position, dropping your head onto your knees. The new life that you’ll be leading...was it the right choice to leave? You’re beginning to think like your father—could there have been a better outcome if you didn’t prematurely agreed to the engagement?

You mess with your hair, combing your fingers through it as you exhale heavily. To avoid the stress taking ahold of you, you hold onto the necklace, convincing yourself that there was no other way. You can’t wish for this to go away, you have to face it head on. This is just the beginning.

———

SUMMER

“Your Highness, where should the seeds be placed?” An old man approaches with a sack.

“They go into the shed along with the rest of the farm equipment.”

He runs off as quickly as he ran here. In the garden, you’re leaning over as you check the current state of the plants. On the first day of summer, everyone is sweating buckets worth, but this sort of weather is like winter in your homeland, so it’s natural.

It’s been months since you left, and now you live almost comfortably. You’ve been put in charge of raising the tropical plants, keeping a record of the process and sending it to Jungkook by the end of each day. Each day follows a specific pattern, where one day, you’ll be learning proper etiquette as a part of royalty, and other days you’ll be working closely with the servants.

You find it easier to get along with the servants compared to your tutors. They have zero interest in your well-being. It almost feels as if they’re looking down on you because you came from a small island. With the servants, it took awhile for them to warm up to you, but after that’s been done, there’s no issue talking to them.

“Your Highness, shouldn’t you be resting by now? You’ve been here since the break of dawn.” The elderly man asks as soon as he set the sack down.

You shake your head. “I’m fine. I prefer staying outside anyway. It feels a little suffocating in there.”

“But what about your language tutor? Wouldn’t she get upset?”

“I don’t have an issue with verbal communication, and this kingdom’s writing system is confusing that I don’t want to think about it. It doesn’t hurt missing one or two sessions.”

“King Jungkook will get upset if he finds out that you’re skipping lessons!”

“It’s alright,” you say as you pinch the leaves. “It isn’t like he cares.”

Despite the marriage, you and Jungkook treat each other like strangers. You two don’t even share the same bedroom. You’re careful not to show the grudge you hold for him, but Jungkook isn’t a fool; he knows you detest him. However, it was never his intention to be affectionate, you’re here as the connection between him and your father.

“Has he been treating you thoughtfully?”

“More or less. I feel more like a servant than his wife. It’s odd just thinking about how I’m queen…”

The old man laughs. “Even though you came from a royal background?”

“Well, my tradition is different from here. There’s no castle, no machines, no solid hierarchy.”

“It’s pleasant to hear that you came from a humble background. It’s very similar to King Jungkook’s.”

Your ears perk once you hear that. “Excuse me? Can you tell me more? What do you mean by that?”

Although you keep a large gap between you and him, you still are curious about Jungkook. He’s a mysterious person for sure, and you’d like to know more about him.

He looks around to make sure that no one else can hear. “Our former king, King Kim, was a kind man, putting his people before himself. It wasn’t until he was dethroned and slaughtered by King Jeon King Jungkook’s father. He was ruthless, I tell you. He prioritized military power and monetary gain more than anything. Each concubine he married was for the purpose of gaining something from the other lands, eventually marrying five wives.”

It sounds awfully similar to your situation, which isn’t surprising.

“However, his sixth wife was the most unusual, King Jungkook’s mother.”

His mother? You’ve heard about his father previously, but you have yet to learn about his mother. You don’t know if he has a close relationship with his mother. In fact, you don’t even know if she’s alive. If the former king had six wives, where are they?

“How so?”

“What’s going on here?”

From behind, Jungkook had been standing there all this time. The old man looks frightened, nearly falling over.

“Y-Your Majesty. W-we were just checking this section.”

But Jungkook doesn’t seem to believe that. The old man is sweating blocks.

“He was just telling me about the summer heat.”

“Hm, okay,” He still isn’t convinced but doesn’t push any further. “(Y/N), let me speak to you privately.”

You follow him from behind, walking away from the farm. You look back at the old man, hoping that Jungkook won’t do anything.

———

Inside the castle corridors, you’re unsure where he’s going. Every time he walks by a servant, they bow their heads and greet him.

“How have the plants been growing? There’s something off about them.”

“The growth process is a little slow. Because the weather is colder here, it’s going to take longer.”

“How long?”

“I’m not sure...maybe a year until we see something grow.”

“...Very well. It seems like we will have to keep relying on shipments from your island then.”

His words trigger your homesickness. You wonder how your father is doing, hopefully not worried sick for you.

“Also…” he starts. “I’d prefer it if you kept to your own business. My past is not your entertainment.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure how he came to that conclusion. “I didn’t ask for my amusement. I was genuinely curious.”

“Why learn about someone you hate? To use it against me?”

“Where is this coming from? Why are you accusing me of such things?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately. “If I hear one more question about my mother, then don’t expect me to give you a second chance.”

You can’t believe that he’s threatening you because of your curiosity. You dislike how he can do whatever he wants with you, but opening your mouth is forbidden.

“What’s wrong with me asking about your mother?” You ask with attitude.

He stops walking, that being the last straw. He turns around, and you cover your mouth, realizing that you made a mistake. He stands over you, his dead eyes staring straight into your soul. You gulp, feeling intimidated as he stands inches before you.

“Then tell me how your mother died.”

You never once mentioned about your mother around him, so how does he know?

“Wh-what? How did you…”

“That day when I took over your island, I followed you to your mother’s grave. I heard everything—you crying over her dead body like a helpless child, begging her for help.”

The things that he’s saying...you know that he’s saying only to push you on edge, but you can’t help it. The way he’s mocking your most vulnerable moment, speaking disrespectfully about your mother, it’s infuriating you.

“You’re an imbecile, thinking that a dead person can help you. They’re nothing but bones. There’s no such thing as spirits, and only a dimwit believes that. Your mother died and left you.”

You clench your fists, looking down at your chest, where your mother’s pearl necklace rests.

“Do you now understand why you shouldn’t ask—”

You headbutt him in the chin. He was completely off-guard by that that he nearly fell backwards.

This catches the attention of all the servants in the hall. The color drains out of their eyes when they saw you hit the king himself. He wraps his hand around his injured chin as it pulsates.

“You little…!”

Aware of what your near future has to hold, the servants flee to avoid the consequences. Jungkook was about to explode, but once he sees your face, his anger subsides. Your eyes are watery, presumably because your feelings have been hurt and the pain after hitting him with your head. 

“I’m sorry I asked.”

You storm off, and this sets off even more panic with the servants. But you don’t care. You wanted to get that out of your system, and it felt good. After everything he’s done to you, at least he deserved a headbutt.

———

In another section of the castle finally alone, you’re facing the wall, wiping your eyes. You mumble to yourself, ‘don’t cry, don’t cry.’ You’re embarrassed that you almost let yourself go in front of him, but you weren’t expecting him to spill such crude words. Now you’re stuck in a dilemma where you might be punished for your actions.

Is this really going to be your life? Stuck in a castle with a man who doesn’t love you? All you can think about is going back home, seeing your father again, sleeping in your favorite futon, and talking to your mother, even if she’s dead.

“That was definitely a sight worth seeing!”

You hear an unexpected voice from behind. You spin your body, seeing a man grinning from ear to ear. You don’t recognize him, so you’re on guard when he takes a step closer to you.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” as a friendly welcome, he extends his hand out for a handshake. “My name is Taehyung, and I’m a new servant.”

Raising an eyebrow, you decide to trust him, giving him your hand. He gives it a good, rough shake before letting your hand go.

“Were you crying just now?”

“Oh, no, I wasn’t.” You sniff.

“Hm, anyways, I saw what you did earlier, and that definitely took a huge leap of courage. Never in my life have I ever seen anyone do that.” Taehyung applauds.

Still on high alert, you don’t react. Sensing the vibe, he stops.

“He’s a quiet man, but one wrong move and his words can become as sharp as a blade. Now, I wasn’t too sure what the conversation was about, but I’m sure he was trying to press your buttons.”

You don’t respond, so he takes this as a yes. Seeing as you’re silent, he assumes you don’t trust him. He leans down until he’s eye level with you. There’s something in his eyes that you haven’t seen in awhile, and it’s sympathy.

 “Don’t be afraid. I’m on your side. If you want, you can tell me what’s been on your chest. I promise that I won’t tell Jungkook.”

His words are comforting to hear, it’s something that you needed. When you loosen the stiffness in your shoulders, he smiles, relieved that you trust him.

Some time has gone by, and you open up about everything. You weren’t expecting yourself to vent so much, especially since you just barely met him. It just shows that you really needed someone to talk to—someone who’s worried about their safety. Taehyung was quiet the majority of the time, nodding his head. It felt like he was actually invested in what you had to say.

“It must be hard, being in a foreign land, learning a new culture and meet strangers all by yourself.”

“...It is. I’ve always wanted to travel, but not like this.”

“Believe me when I say this, Your Highness, but I know exactly what you mean. I also was alone for most of my life, and it’s scary.”

“Where are you from?”

“Here, but I was orphaned at a very young age. It’s a miracle that I’m even alive.”

“I’m...sorry about that.”

“No worries!” he takes a step back, returning to his bubbly personality. “I know we just met, but what would you say if I told you that I can help you back home?”

Your eyes widen, at a loss of words. Did he really say what you thought you heard? “Really?! But...why?”

He nods. “No person should be restrained to another without consent, and I’m willing to get you out of it. Your father is the only family you have left, right? You should go back to him when you still have the chance.”

You can’t believe it. Taehyung is a savior. However...your hope sinks when you forgot another important factor.

“But...he has my father in his hands. If I leave, he knows where to look, and without a doubt, he’ll definitely kill everybody.”

“I might know a way to get around that. It won’t be easy, and it’ll take time, but if you want my help, then I need you to do something for me.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to find Jungkook’s weak spot.”

A weakness? “What does it have to do with the plan?”

“Think about it: he’s the one who’s pulling the strings. Even if you try to tug on it, his eyes are on you, so you can’t escape. If we use his weakness to distract him, then I can help snip the strings. You have an advantage because you’re his wife—the only person closest to him. I may not look like it, but I have a lot of connections, and I can get someone to prepare a ship for your return.”

“Are...you really willing to go that far for me? I-I haven’t done anything to deserve this.”

While you’re grateful for this opportunity, it feels off. The benefits outweigh the workload. Can the plan really work out the way he explains it to be?

“I’m doing it also for myself. One day, I’ll tell you why. The plan might sound simple, but it’s more complicated. But don’t worry about it, I’ll do the hard part. I just need you to gain Jungkook’s trust.”

“...Okay. I’ll do it,” you lean over, hugging him to express how thankful you are, but it catches him off-guard. “Thank you so much. I’ll never forget it.”

He pulls himself back, clearing his throat. “It hasn’t started, so don’t thank me yet.”

He has given you this ray of hope that nobody else here has done. Each day, your mental state deteriorated because nobody was willing to take the chance to listen to you. If you hadn’t met Taehyung, then you would’ve continued to spiral down into insanity. You make sure that Taehyung’s offer will not be taken for granted.

———

The head maid’s hand slaps you so hard that your head turned in the same direction as her hand. “You simple-minded bitch!”

You fight the urge to hit her back, clenching your fists.

“How dare you humiliate the king in front of everybody?! He has been nothing but kind toward you! He gave you a roof to sleep under, food, and even education for that barbaric mind of yours!” She nags as she aggressively pokes your head.

Despite being the queen, you’re treated no differently from a maid. There is no respect for you from the head maid, only when Jungkook is around. She has already made it clear that she despises you since the beginning.

“If you had been some ordinary woman, then I’d have your hair shaved off. You don’t deserve the opportunity to even apologize!” She turns away, sneering at you. “I still cannot believe that he chose to marry you when he had more proper women lined up.”

You didn’t make the decision, but the way she says it makes it sound like it was. You rub your cheek after she leaves. It’s unfair that Jungkook doesn’t get backlash for what he does, but you do. If you were of another background, then the maid wouldn’t have treated you this way.

You stomp your feet to the balcony, pushing the doors open. The urge to scream is pulled back when you’re reminded that as a woman, you could get in trouble for using your chest voice. Instead, you slam your fist against the concrete rail, cursing to your heart’s content. The maid did not see what had unfolded between you and him, but even if she did, she would still side with Jungkook.

You raise your head up, staring at the distant building where Jungkook has sword practice. Even under this hot weather, he’s still practicing. For the months that you’ve been living here, he’s never missed a day. He doesn’t even sleep in the same room as you. You can’t quite understand him—why is he so intent with work?

You recall what Taehyung said about potentially helping you return to your island. With him being closed-off with everyone, including you, how can you possibly get close to him? But you can’t have a defeatist attitude just yet when you haven’t started. Perhaps you’re overthinking it and there is a chance that you can pass through his barriers; you just have to figure out how.

———

You exhaling to calm your nerves. In your hands is a tray of iced tea. You’re a few feet away from Jungkook, in the gardens hiding behind a rose bush sculpted into the shape of a young angel. This is the first time you’ll be approaching him non-business related, so you pray that your act of kindness doesn’t come off as suspicious. You convince yourself not to worry too much, counting backward before going.

You pull the most welcoming smile that you can achieve, walking stiffly to Jungkook. As you pull in closer, he notices you and stops. He brushes his sweaty hair back, breathing heavily as he stares at you. The longer he stares at you, the more conscious you are of your appearance. How do you look like when you’re walking? Is your posture relaxed? How does a normal walk look like again? All the little things attacking you at once.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” you pause momentarily to rehearse your lines. “It sure is hot today, isn’t it? I see you practice here often, so I thought it’d be best for you to take a break and have a cup of cold tea.”

You look for anything to use as a table, but seeing as there’s nothing of use, you keep ahold of the tray.

Already, he raises an eyebrow. “I know. I see you on the balcony, watching me.”

He points at the balcony connected to the bedroom, and you look behind. You never thought about how obvious it is when you stand there, spying on him like a stalker. It makes you flustered, almost forgetting what to say next.

“Oh, it’s just fascinating watching you practice. You strike this dummy like it’s a real person!” You try to sound enthusiastic, but it’s too forced that he can see through you.

“What do you want?”

“N-nothing! I just…” you look down at the ground. “...wanted to apologize for my rash behavior the other day. It was uncalled for me to hit you like that. I-I know a cup of tea isn’t going to redo the past, but I want to show that I thought a lot about it and would like to make up for that.”

While a part of you does feel apologetic for what you did, but the childish side says that he deserved it. Jungkook still doesn’t look convinced with your offer but gives in to it anyways. He takes the cup and sips it before returning it to you. He resumes training, acting as if you never came by.

You’re left there standing without another word. Is that really it? What else are you supposed to do? You were expecting more persuasion would come into play. You were going to take this as a perfect opportunity to be pushier, but you’re stumped.

“Okay well...train hard.”

You spin around, pacing back to the garden with your head hanging low. Your face is flushed, unable to believe that you were at a loss of words. You prepared a whole conversation in case he refused, but he’s wittier than you thought. He knows that by retaliating, it’ll give you a reason to stay and bother him. He was one step ahead of you.

But you can’t give up now. This is just the first attempt. You raise your head up with new determination.

———

Every day since then, you would bring cold drinks for Jungkook during his training session. You would ask the servants to teach you how to make tea, then you would bring it out to him. You did this so often that the servants thought that it was becoming a chore for you, so they offered to do it in your stead, but you turned it down every time. You wanted—needed—to be the one to get close to him, even if the atmosphere felt uncomfortably silent.

“Why do you practice every day?” You ask one day.

While sitting down on the ground, Jungkook stares at you. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t answer you. You return the gaze back at him, using your hand as a shade above your eyes to protect them from the glaring sun. He looks away, turning his attention back at the beatdown scarecrow.

“It’s important not to slack off.”

“But don’t you think you’re practicing too much? I see you with a wooden sword more than anything else.”

The end of his eyebrow raises up, not agreeing with your statement. “It’s easy for you to say that.”

He returns to what he was doing before, trying to ignore you as usual. However, you aren’t going to let him off that easily this time.

“You know, I may not look like it, but I know how to use a sword too.”

“Yes, I’m aware. That was how we met.”

You forgot about that. That wasn’t the best introduction, but there’s no way you can redo that now. You stand up, stretching your arms and legs. He stands back, wondering what you’re about to do.

You grab an extra wooden sword and get into battle position. You raise the sword over your head, swinging it down on the scarecrow’s head. The head bobs up and down from the impact, dust flying everywhere. You look at Jungkook, waiting for his praise.

“Holding the sword above your head takes too much strength and time. By doing that, you leave your entire body vulnerable, and you would’ve gotten hit by then. You don’t want to make the first hit the most powerful one either. Conserve your strength for the rest of the fight.”

Your pride was stomped in an instant, but then again, there was no point for you to show off amateur skills to an expert.

“Who taught you how to use a sword?”

You scratch your cheek, having realized that you boasted about yourself a bit too much. “No one…”

“Not even your father?”

“No...my dad didn’t want me to get near a blade, so I kinda learned by watching him.”

“Hm, impressive. Despite everything else, you have the strength equivalent to that of a man, and self-taught too, not too bad.”

You knew that you were most likely stronger than an average woman because you were the only person in your entire village who could perform physical labor. Everybody was either too old or young.

“Perhaps you’re not some ordinary, dainty woman, but you still have a long way before you call yourself a swordswoman.”

You don’t know if meant that as a compliment. Either way, it lifted your spirits. You try to hide your smile, but it’s impossible. Jungkook catches you grinning, not sure why you’re happy, but decides not to say anything. In fact, that’s the first time he’s seen you smile since you got here and this is the longest conversation he’s had with you.

Upon first impression, it didn’t seem like you liked him, which isn’t surprising considering what he did. But you suddenly started showing up, giving him something to drink every day under the scorching weather, trying to talk to him. It’s highly suspicious, especially since you get nothing out of talking to him. However, it isn’t something he particularly hates.

“You’re...” He trails off. “...welcome to practice here. And you don’t have to use tea as an excuse.”

Your jaw drops, your eyes so wide that you can see the whole world. He doesn’t know why you’re so speechless by his offer, but you quickly go back to smiling again.

“Thank you, Your Majesty!”

If anything, he’s more shocked. He can’t understand why he feels...comfortable talking to you. You two should see each other as enemies, but seeing you in another light, he wasn’t thinking when he offered this place to you. If anything, it would be a bad move on his end. If you learned how to use a weapon, then you can kill him. But this brief conversation felt like the conflict between you and him doesn’t exist. He can’t remember the last time he spoke to someone without second-guessing, or if he ever did at all.

———

And just as he said, you’ve been practicing alongside Jungkook. You still bring him tea, but now you found another reason to stop by. Although he doesn’t say much, he does leave advice here and there to better your swordsmanship. Whenever it isn’t about training, he would ask about how the dragonfruits are growing. Despite that gap between you and him still apparent, the gap definitely closened.

However, today is unlike any day. When you head to the training area, Jungkook is nowhere to be seen. He’s usually here around this time of day. You set the tea set down, finding a gardener nearby.

“Excuse me, do you know where King Jungkook is?”

“I heard that the shipment from Pitaya Island has arrived today, so he went to the port to check. He should be back shortly.”

“Thank you.”

You leave the gardener be, deciding to kill time by swinging the wooden sword. The head maid recommends that you use your extra time by studying, but just thinking about a book already stresses you out. You can already tell that academics aren’t your strongest, so you dread the thought of just thinking about it. At least for this, this gives you a reason to feel productive.

———

You thought that by practicing, hours would fly over your head, but it turned out to be the contrary. You keep looking back at the garden, hoping to see Jungkook. Every time you think about him, you try shaking him out. He is your enemy, you tell yourself, you’re not here to become allies. It makes you forget about him for a  few seconds, then you return to this vicious cycle of thinking about him again.

After an hour, you stopped, finding this repetition to get on your nerves. You kick the pebbles around, watching them roll away. With all your attention on the pebbles, you almost run into the scarecrow. You get into a stare-off with it, glaring at its dirty face. It has two ‘x’ for eyes, as there used to be buttons there. It’s been abused by Jungkook so much that cotton is falling out from the man-made body, and the clothes have lost their color. Despite being a victim, it still has a smile sewn onto it.

“What are you looking at?” You make an attempt to sound menacing, but only make a poor attempt at it. “Just because you hang out with Jungkook the most doesn’t mean that you’re special.”

You pause as if the scarecrow is actually speaking.

“What? I’m not jealous. Just to let you know, I hate him. That’s right, he’s my arch-nemesis, so that means that you’re my enemy too. I have every reason to show you no mercy.”

You’re quiet again, and then you pull yourself back as if you’ve been offended.

“No, I’m not thinking about him! Are you insane? ...Me? Worried?” You roll your eyes, scoffing. “Why would I worry about that selfish prick anyway? He doesn’t care if I die.”

You realize that you’re having an imaginary conversation with a scarecrow, but knowing that you talked to your mother’s tombstone for twelve years, this is nothing out of the ordinary.

“He just...wants me because it’ll benefit him. I refuse to believe that he has an ounce of care in him.” 

That’s right, you shouldn’t try to understand someone who doesn’t think about others. You should focus on getting back home. It would be a waste to have him in your thoughts.

“YOUR HIGHNESS!” The scratchy voice was so loud that it frightened you.

The head maid is marching right toward you, grabbing your arm once she got close enough. You thought that you had gotten into trouble again, but that expression on her face doesn’t look like she intends to yell at you today.

“Where on earth have you been?! I’ve been searching everywhere!”

“I-I was here this whole time. Why?”

“There was an attack!”

“What?!”

“A pirate had hijacked one of the ships with the food supply from your island and made an attempt to ambush King Jungkook.”

You thought you didn’t hear her right. When she said ‘your island,’ there was this immediate feeling of foreboding dragging your entire spirit down.

“Thankfully, they were no match for the king, so—”

“Where is King Jungkook?!”

Startled by your sudden question, she hesitates. “The king is in the main hall. I understand that you’re in a panic, we all were, but do not raise your voice—”

You run back inside, not caring if your shoes are covered in dirt. You’re not supposed to run in the castle, but you could care less. What you need to know now is if your father is okay.

———

In the main hall, the servants and soldiers surround Jungkook. You fight through the crowd to get into the center. Your heart pounds, your vision is blurry, and your hands tremble. You want to know what happened so you can get rid of this antsy feeling.

When the crowd finally notices you passing through, they immediately make way. They grow silent after seeing you, even Jungkook. Standing before him, you didn’t have to say anything for him to know what you want to ask.

“They’re safe. The pirates hijacked the ship after they picked up the new shipment.”

It felt like a million things have just been lifted. You don’t know how you would react if he didn’t have any good news to say.

Despite saving the capital from a terror attack, the people around Jungkook don’t cheer. They have the same, stoic expression that they’ve always had. Once Jungkook walks away from the main lobby and into the hall, the crowd disperses, returning to their everyday lives.

Perhaps there was more that you should’ve said to him, at most a thanks. After all, he did save the mainland, as it is a king’s duty to do so. Something in you is persuading you to move your feet and follow him, let him know that you’re thankful, even if he ignores you.

———

As Jungkook dives deeper into the maze of corridors, you follow closely behind. You’re embarrassed for behaving stealthily when you can simply confront him, but you want to stall and have enough time to rehearse what you want to say to him

 You don’t even know if it’s worth it to thank him, especially knowing how talented he is at ignoring you. You aren’t even sure why you’re so keen on talking to him. It might be because you’ve gotten comfortable enough to be around him that it becomes second nature to speak to him. Another reason might be because you were unconsciously worried about him, no matter how much you deny that. Regardless of the reason, you’re still here, hiding behind each statue, peeking your head out and waiting for the perfect opportunity to say something.

You come to a halt when Jungkook suddenly stops walking in the middle of the halls. Initially, you thought that he noticed you. But after a few seconds later, you see that that isn’t the case. Since he’s not moving, you thought that this would be the right time to reveal yourself and stop hiding. You step out from behind a sculpture of a man, waving your hand to grab his attention.

“Your Majesty, I—”

But before you can finish your sentence, Jungkook falls to his knees, coughing violently. You’re startled, not doing anything before processing that he’s fallen over. After it clicks that he’s not well, you force your legs to work. 

You kneel down, getting a better look at his condition. Jungkook is covering his mouth with his hand, coughing nonstop to the point where he’s wheezing. His other arm and wrapped around his stomach, and sweat is pouring out of his pores. His ears and nose are turning red.

You put your hands on his shoulders, and it seems as though he didn’t realize that you were here all along. Instinctively, he shoves your hands off, giving you an angry look. “Don’t touch me...”

After moving his hand away from his mouth, you see the blood rolling down his lip. The palm of his hand is covered in blood, fusing with the sweat. He struggles to stand up, only to fall back down. He’s so weak that he has to lean on the wall, trying to catch his breath.

Seeing him in this condition, it horrifies you. Just moments ago, he looked fine. He must’ve waited until there was absolutely no one to finally fall. With his arm still wrapped around his stomach, you notice that his shirt is slowly sucking up the blood. He must have received an injury to the stomach.

Disregarding his order, you lean over to him, putting his arm around your neck to help him up. He looks confused but too weak to remove his arm from you.

“What are you doing?”

���Why did you pretend like you were okay?!” You respond with a question.

Jungkook is silent, looking away. With your strength, you’re able to lift him up, though you struggle to get him to walk. After the first few steps, you were able to get into rhythm with his steps. The sweat from the tips of his hair is rubbed against your cheek, and your dress is soaking up the sweat like a sponge.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To your room.”

———

In the room, Jungkook’s personal doctor has just completed his checkup, returning the stethoscope back to the bag. His doctor has given him liquid medicine to soothe him. After all the commotion, he’s finally calmed down and asleep. You stayed for the entire duration, standing by the side and waiting for the results.

The doctor approaches you, sighing. “His Majesty is no longer in critical condition. It was quite a fright, however.”

“Can you explain what happened?”

“He was injured during battle, receiving a deep cut to his waist. There must’ve been poison on the blade, as he was showing symptoms.”

“What?!”

“I’m not certain what kind of poison yet, but it most likely might’ve been a plant-based poison.”

Your gaze turns to Jungkook, who’s sleeping soundly.

“It was sheer luck that you were barely able to get me in time before the poison spread to his entire body. He should be able to recover within a week as long as he takes the medicine on a daily basis. However, he will still feel soreness in his muscles, so I recommend that he doesn’t get out of bed,” The doctor gives you a transparent glass bottle. “Make sure that he takes this three times a day. Oh, and please keep an eye on him. He may be our king, but he’s still a child. He might feel uneasy being in bed and make sure that he doesn’t try to sneak out.”

He walks off, leaving you confused at first before turning around and calling him back. “Wait, excuse me—”

And with that, the doctor closes the door behind him. Your intention was to get him to his room and get help as soon as possible, not become his personal maid. Even though you are his wife by contract, you aren’t romantically attached to him to where you should take care of him.

But when you look at him, you can’t help but think that you’re simply being selfish. You know almost nothing about taking care of an ill person, so you were upset that the responsibility was dropped on your head suddenly. You can’t forget that he fought outsiders to protect his land and behaved as if he was fine afterwards.

Since he’s no longer in critical condition, you decide that it’s best to let him rest. You open the drawer of the nightstand to place the bottle inside. However, there’s something in there that catches your attention. It’s a black and white photo of a boy sitting on a woman’s lap. Both of their expressions look melancholic, showing no signs of glee whatsoever. They’re dressed in elegant clothing, not a single wrinkle on it,  and their hair is combed back with a gel-like substance.

The child on the woman’s lap has a starking resemblance to Jungkook. You look at Jungkoook, then look back at the photo. He looks similar to the woman in the photograph as well. After thinking about it for a while, you draw to the conclusion that this is Jungkook, and the woman is presumably his mother.

Jungkook turns in his bed and groans. Startled, you instinctively shove the photo into your pocket. You sigh in relief when he doesn’t wake up. You take the photo out, staring at it again.

———

“This woman?”

In the wine basement, you hand the photograph to Taehyung. He tilts his head, rotating the picture around to get a better look at it.

“This is Jungkook’s mother.”

Just as you thought.

“Where did you find this?” He asks while returning the picture back to you.

“I found it in his drawer. I was wondering if you know anything about her.”

You’re aware that Jungkook is not fond of people talking about his mother, but your curiosity outweighs the caution. You’re keen into knowing why he was so against you learning about her, and you want to know why there’s no sign of her either.

“I’m not surprised that he’s trying to keep it silent.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“His mother was a prostitute.”

“Prostitute? What’s that?”

Uncomfortable with figuring out how to properly explain the term, he averts his eyes. He leans over to your ear, whispering the description. Upon hearing the answer, you pull yourself back, dropping your jaw. You then cover your mouth with your hand.

“Everybody knows, but Jungkook forbids anyone to talk about it. It might be because he’s ashamed of his background, being raised by a street woman.”

You look at the picture again, focusing on his mother. You can’t imagine her living that sort of lifestyle, and then for Jungkook to grow up in that environment.

“I don’t know the full story, but the former king suddenly announced that he wedded another woman, his sixth one, in fact.”

“How is it possible that a king can marry another woman? What ever happened to swearing oath to one?”

“By law, the king is allowed to marry as many wives as he wishes. It’s a new rule after Jungkook’s father killed the king previous to him. Although, I can’t say for certain that not all concubines were treated equally.”

Taehyung puts his hands in his pockets, the mood darkening. There was a glimpse of fury underneath his eyes, but you might’ve imagined it.

“His father is a selfish prick, creating rules only to benefit him. His eyes saw nothing but lust. Either that or their kingdom had something the former king wanted, so an alliance through marriage was necessary for him to have a share.”

The latter half of Taehyung’s remark bothers you as if poking you on the side to remind you of your position. Without a doubt, you know that he didn’t marry you because he liked you, but what your island can contribute to him. The more you think about it, the more disdain you grow for him. But, you aren’t sure if the disdain is for Jungkook, or indirectly toward his father.

You know you’re looking at this with a biased point of view, but even if Taehyung described Jungkook’s mother in a sour way, you can’t bring yourself to look down on her. It might be because of what you used to have with your mother, but you don’t want to jump to conclusions and assume who his mother exactly is.

Seeing how deep in thought you are, Taehyung bends down until he’s eye level with you, patting you on the shoulder as he smiles. “Don’t worry about it. Soon enough, I’ll be able to send you back home. You’re doing a fine job.”

That’s right, you shouldn’t sympathize with anyone here but Taehyung. He’s the only one willing to help you, so there’s no need to feel sorry for Jungkook...right?

———

Jungkook’s health has been improving steadily, and he’s been staying in bed as of late. You were worried about the extra weight of giving him his daily dose of medicine, but it was you merely overthinking it. At most, you have to measure the right dosage then mix it into his soup. Once that’s complete, you go back to tending the dragon fruit garden and the dreadful private lessons.

Since he takes over the bed, you don’t sleep in the room anymore. Once the head maid is off your back, you sneak into your dressing room and sleep there. If she finds out that you’re not sleeping the ‘proper way’, then she would smack you without hesitation.

It’s been a few days since he’s been bedridden, and you can’t tell he’s beginning to get antsy staying in bed all day. The doctor insists that he doesn’t overwork himself as he’s still sore. However, Jungkook is a busy body, so resting is uncommon to him.

Today, in particular, you notice that he looks especially stressed. On his lap is a clipboard with sheets of paper stacked above it. He keeps scratching his head, his forehead wrinkled as he makes tiny grunts under his breath. You thought it’d be best to ignore it, but he’s not even trying to hide it.

“Are you okay…?”

“No, I’m not.” He responds frankly.

It would’ve been nicer if he didn’t say it in that tone. However, you try to brush it off. You keep telling yourself that this is for the sake of going back home.

“Is there any way I can help you with that?”

He glares at me as if astounded that you even bothered to ask that. “How will you be able to help me? You hardly know your numbers.”

You can feel your veins popping out. His snarky remarks are testing your patience, especially since you didn’t do anything this time to upset him.

“I might not be able to do it for you, but if you want someone to talk to, then I can be your listener.”

“How will that help me?”

“That way, you don’t have to carry the weight by yourself.”

He squints his eyes, not wanting to take your word for it. “This is a battle plan that the general and I created together. There has been an increase in pirate attacks, and we’re trying to figure out how to increase our defense.”

You take a look at the sheets, and it’s much more complicated than you thought. You barely understand the written language itself, and all the lines and circles drawn to each line makes you more confused. You weren’t expecting him to let you see it, or even tell you. In a way, it made you excited knowing that he’s trusting you bit by bit, even if you can’t understand anything.

“But...it isn’t easy. For every plan I create, I have to get them approved by my older brothers, and that isn’t easy. Every damn plan I propose to them, they reject it. And yet, they complain, and complain, and complain that I need to somehow improve my military.” He lets out an exasperated sigh.

He was right—you really don’t know how to solve this. You’ve never met any of his relatives to give suggestions. Being speechless, you put your index finger to your lips, thinking of anything to say. That’s when you remember what Taehyung said to you days ago.

“What is the flaw that they see?”

“I don’t even know. They won’t even tell me.”

Taehyung did mention that Jungkook is the youngest and isn’t treated well. Knowing his background and his mother, he might not have the respect he deserves from his older brothers.

“Maybe...your plan is fine? But they don’t want to acknowledge it?”

He raises an eyebrow. “And how would you know that it’s alright? You didn’t read it.”

You shrug your shoulders. “Just a guess. I mean, you’re a king for a reason. You were able to map out a way to my homeland without trouble, and then you took care of those pirates.”

Because Jungkook doesn’t know that you’ve been informed of his backstory, he looks at you with a questionable expression. A sweat drops, worried that he might’ve figured out that you stole the picture of his mother. You haven’t returned it yet, and it’s making you anxious.

“Whether I’m a king or not, my older brothers see me as incompetent,” he leans back. “No matter what I do, they don’t believe that I’m meant to become king.”

“Why is that so?”

“Well, for starters, I’m the youngest, and that already sets me at a disadvantage. Not only that, I—” Jungkook stops abruptly, losing his train of thought. “Never mind. There’s no point in diving deep into this topic.”

If only he knew what you knew, then he would know how sympathetic you feel for him. Selling your body for money may not be the most well-respected career path, but a mother is still a mother. What she did to support her and Jungkook prior to moving into the castle should not be forgotten.

Thinking about your mother, you may not remember her face anymore, but you don’t let the memories of her die out. She died when you were still very young, but that doesn’t excuse you to forget everything that she did in the short time that you’ve spent with her, and those are irreplaceable.

“You know...sometimes it’s nice to talk to somebody about your problems. It’s not whether or not they can solve it, but just for others to know the troubles that you’re going through. You’re not expecting much, only for them to lend an ear,” you clutch onto the pearl necklace, smiling faintly as you stare blankly into space. “You saw me talking to my mother’s tombstone, right? Talking about my day is heals my mind of all the stress that I go through daily.”

Thinking about your mother’s grave, picturing your father and the villagers, it truly makes you homesick. If only you can see the palm trees again, listen to the chirps of the colorful birds that fly across the sky, and the beauty of the ocean right under a bright, blue sky. But you swallow back your homesickness. Now is not the time to be reminiscing.

“My mother died a long time ago to protect me.”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows, completely surprised with your openness.

“When I was a child, there was an invasion by another group of pirates, stealing our crops and pillaging our village. While everything was perishing, my mother hid me, making sure that the bloodline doesn’t end with me. By the time the invaders got what they needed and left, most of the children my age was killed off. That’s why I’m the only person who’s around my age.”

It hurts going back to that time. It was hard for everybody, especially with your father. Not only did his people suffer a lot, but he also lost this beloved wife. He was broken for years, and he’s still healing from it to this day.

“Even though my mom died long ago, I still talk to her. I know she’s dead, but speaking to her like she’s listening to everything I’m saying, it’s so relieving. So...if you ever feel stressed, it’s always good to release it. It doesn’t have to be me, but your reflection or anything you’re comfortable with.”

With his lack of response, you aren’t sure if he agrees with you or not. It sounds silly, but it definitely has helped you when coping with difficult situations. You’re already choking on your tears, swallowing the lump in your throat. To avoid crying in front of him, you think of something else to talk about.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk about myself. You’re the one who’s going through a tough time.”

He looks away, staring intensely at the blanket. “No...I was unaware of that. If you like, you can leave now.”

You’re surprised he said it in a calm manner. It almost sounds as if he acknowledged what you said and is letting you leave out of courtesy. You clear your throat, patting the back of your dress as you walk off.

“Very well, just holler for me if there’s anything you need.”

He barely nods, and you look back one more time before leaving.

———

Despite that being the longest you’ve ever spoken to Jungkook, nothing spectacular happened after that. You were somewhat expecting a turn in your relationship, but it’s as steady as it’s always been.

Jungkook has gotten better to where he can walk around. However, he still can’t do the activities that he did before, so most of the time, he walks around the castle, looking around as if he were a tourist. You’ve been watching him from afar, spying on him to see what he does, but nothing out of the ordinary happens.

Today is the same routine with you having to serve him dinner. However, when you enter, Jungkook is nowhere to be seen. Mild panic sets in, and you start to worry about where he could have gone. You set down the tray, calling his name while searching the entire room.

You walk out of the room, looking all around the hallway for any trace of him. A servant walks by, and you grab her by the shoulder. She didn’t notice you at first, so it made her flinch.

“Your Highness! Is there anything you need?”

“Do you know where the king is?”

“Ah, yes. His Majesty went to the garden. I may be wrong, but he went to check on the shipments for the exotic fruits.”

You smile, letting her know that you’re thankful before rushing to the backyard.

———

Appearing before you is the small shack where the dragon fruit seeds and fruits are hidden. The door is slightly ajar, so you peek in there, leaning over to double-check that Jungkook is in there. Just as the servant claims, he’s crouching over, digging his hand into a sack of black dragon fruit seeds. Wrapped around his shoulders is a thin blanket.

He looks tranquil, feeling the sensation of hundreds of seeds tickling his hand. It’s moments like these that remind you that Jungkook is barely into adulthood, yet he has so many responsibilities on his shoulders. You can’t imagine what goes through his mind, knowing the countless things that he has to keep in check.

You made the mistake of misstepping, making a slight kick to the door. This alerts Jungkook, shooting his head up to make eye contact with you. You avert your eyes, biting your bottom lip as you look away in embarrassment.

“No need to hide. Come here.” He waves his hand, signaling for you to enter.

You timidly stride inside, somewhat taken aback that Jungkook would let you inside. You don’t know if he’s going to let you stand next to him. You crouch down, staring at the seeds, wondering what it is that’s so intriguing to him.

“I tried doing what you said,” Jungkook begins. “And it doesn’t work.”

“What doesn’t work?”

“Talking to inanimate objects. I feel like an insane person. I feel more comfortable talking to somebody.”

It’s not surprising that Jungkook thinks so. If anything, it’s astonishing that he even made an attempt. He scoops a handful of seeds, then to let it pour in between his fingers.

“Have the plants been growing well?”

“Yes, it’s been slow, but still growing.”

“...That’s nice. There was a myth that there’s a one out of a million chance that one of the dragon fruits will actually grow a dragon egg. Is that true?”

You raise an eyebrow, having never heard of that before. “Where did you hear that from?”

“I heard it from many people. Your island is famous through word, but no one has ever gone there to prove it.”

If you had a closer relationship with him, then you would tease him for believing a false myth like a child would. It makes you wonder if he actually went as far as to travel to your island just to see if that tale is true.

“I’m sorry about looking down on your mother.”

Your turn your head to him so fast that your neck almost snapped. For a second, you thought your ears were playing tricks on you. It’s baffling to comprehend that Jungkook has just apologized.

“It was very immature of me to speak about somebody who I’ve never met before, so I’m not asking for your forgiveness.”

What was it that made him have a change of mind so suddenly? Could it have actually been what you said? You aren’t sure, but what you are sure is that something within him changed. Someone whom you thought is as cold as stone is opening up.

“Also...thank you for taking care of me these past few days and...dealing with me despite my stubbornness.”

Upon hearing that, you notice Jungkook’s ears turning red, cheeks flushed with red as well.

“I’ve never eaten a dragon fruit before,” He quickly changes the topic. “Does it taste good?

Saving his pride, you decide not to make a comment about his apology. You even pretend that he never said it. “What do you mean, ‘does it taste good?’ It’s one of the best! Not only is the color eye-catching, but the taste is also jaw-dropping!”

Your vague description doesn’t convince Jungkook enough. He raises an eyebrow, acting as if he had just heard a child talking. You try thinking of other ways to express it, but your vocabulary doesn’t stretch that far. That’s when you have an idea.

“Do we have any of the fruits from the most recent shipment?”

He points to the corner of the room. You stand up, dashing to inspect the fruits piled on each other in a large wooden box. With the lack of proper care, it’s not a surprise when you see that the fruits have become a bit old. You dig through it, praying that you’d find one that’s not bruised nor old, and your prayers are heard when you manage to find one that’s still in good condition.

You grin, showing him the fruit as he slowly walks up to you. “Here we go. Try this one.”

He takes it from your hand, rotating it around, having no clue what to do with it. “How do I…?”

He looks up from the fruit, staring at you with eyes as big as a baby’s. You want to giggle, but it’s too rude to do. You take it from his hand, looking for a small knife, managing to find one sitting on a table. You steady the blade onto the center of the fruit, slicing it in half. You open it, revealing the white flesh from within.

You return it to him, this time, after assisting him in opening the fruit. “Tell me how it tastes.”

Still not knowing how to eat it but not wanting to rely on you a second time, Jungkook digs his fingers into the fruit, scooping a small handful. He takes a bite, and his eyes enlarge once it’s in his mouth. You knew immediately what his reaction is.

“Tastes good, right?”

Jungkook nods his head. “Do you want some?”

“No, it’s okay-”

Without getting the chance to finish your sentence, Jungkook puts it into your mouth. The taste of the fruit reminds you of your home, and a wave of homesickness overwhelms you again. You remember the first time you had a dragon fruit when you were a toddler—that sweetness overwhelming your mouth, the small crunches of the black seeds—eating it at the table with your parents and grandmother. The smile on your mother’s face , your father’s booming laughter, and your grandmother cutting the fruits into smaller cubes.

Where has the time gone?

It never really hit you how much you miss your home—how lonely you feel. Every day, you feel like an outsider here. Even though you’re Jungkook’s wife, you don’t feel treated like one, and when people are respectful, there’s an obvious gap. You want to go home. You want to see your family again, under the tropical sun and sitting under the palm trees’ shades. You don’t want to be here anymore.

Before you know it, you’re already sobbing. You chuckle to lighten the mood, using your palms to wipe the tears away. But the tips of your lips tremble when you try smiling, and you choke on the lump in your throat. You managed to keep a strong face for the months you’ve been here, but you can’t hide it anymore, even if Jungkook is next to you. The more you think about your home, the more you cry. Within seconds, you lose that smile, breaking down entirely.

To your surprise, Jungkook wraps one arm around you, pulling him close to his shoulder. You rest your head on his shoulder, pausing your cry momentarily before continuing. He pats your back, and although his comforting is stiff, he’s trying his hardest. He doesn’t say anything, unsure of what to say since he’s never have to comfort somebody before.

You want to go home…

But you know you can’t.

[End of Part 1]

Part Two here

A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you for ending this until the end! I appreciate every single one of you reading it, and everyone is welcome to leave a message or comment of any kind ^^. I’ll be making part 2 soon, so in the mean time, have a great day!!

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