#astonished by it's beauty and heartbroken for what it has become

[1-800-dreamgirl]

I think if I ever went to the outer space and looked back at the earth I'd cry my weight in tears

[levisolace]

[2] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)

Chapter 2: Wedding Invitations

WC: 8,654 Chapter Warnings: angst kinda ^^, reader and levi argue a lot Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do.

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The corner of his lips twitched, almost forming a smirk but it drops back into a frown in a millisecond enough for you to almost believe you may have hallucinated it. 

“I have to kick you out,” he answered smoothly.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his sneering gaze, and tried to wipe your dusted face with your free hand while asking. “Does Hange live here?”

He inhales, exasperated as he leans on the door frame. “Why the fuck would Hange live in my place? Is she homeless?” 

You close your eyes for a moment again, trying to calm your excessively beating heart, repeatedly reminding yourself to have patience and just get away from here as soon as possible.

If there is one thing Levi knows to do, it’s to rile you up. You didn’t think they fell in love at first sight, did you? No. You completely annoyed the hell out of him. When you entered the room, you flirted with him because you simply found it astonishing. His ears get so red when you call him cute or profess your crush on him in front of everyone. You, if not Hange, were often the receiver of his deadly glares.

“I don’t fucking know? Maybe she fucking told me she lives here,” you reply, waving your phone in from of his face. 

He stares at the device in your hands. A phone from a high-end brand. Vanessa gave it to you as a gift recently. It’s the latest model they had. 

“Well, would you look at that? It looks like you have a phone,” he states the obvious, blankly staring at it before your words sink into him, making his brows perk up in curiosity. “Hold on. Did you say Hange texted you?” 

You trailed off, tilting your head in confusion. “Uh… yeah?” 

Levi goes quiet, then turns to toss the box of powder somewhere inside. He leaves the door open and is quickly facing you again. If you were to be asked, you’d say that a look of hurt flashed on his face. But what do you know? You may not know who he is anymore. A lot can change in a year, much less seven years. 

It was beginning to be uncomfortable, the silence that suddenly loomed between the two of you. Deciding enough is enough, you cleared your throat to catch his attention. 

“You know what? Maybe she made a mistake. I’ll go. We can just say you kicked me out if you want,” you suggest the last sentence before letting out a painfully awkward fake laugh. You turn on your heels, ready to erase the look of his face in your brain. 

As you step forward, fingers wrap around your elbow and before you know it, you are being pulled back to where you stood earlier. You turn your head to Levi with wide eyes, stumbling and losing your balance until another hand catches your hips, steadying you in place. 

Your breath gets stuck in your throat when you realize how close your face is to his, mere inches away from each other. His hardened gaze falters, an unreadable one stares into your eyes. From this short distance, the musky and pine-like scent fills your nose—the same smell you used to wake up to every day. His breath smells like the tea he drinks. His face is sharper but they remain soft. Even at this age, his features still look younger than he actually is. Levi has always been beautiful even with a permanent scowl on his face.  

One of the fingers still wrapped around your waist twitches and the movement sent you to hypersensitivity. You become too sensitive to how his hand curls on your arm, how the other grips your waist, and how your faces are too close for comfort—it becomes suffocating for reasons you don’t want to disclose to yourself. 

You tug yourself free of his hold, turning around and facing him. With a glare, you spat out with furrowed brows. “What the fuck is your problem?” 

His response was immediate, knocking you out of your breath.

“Stay.”

One word. One word and your anger dissipates. 

If you had decided to tie your hair, you’re sure he’d see the tips of your ear redden. You breathe out a soft but confused response. “What?” 

He shifts his gaze to the side, avoiding your eyes. A mannerism he does when he’s shy. “You can come in. Hange’s supposed to come today.” 

“Oh.” You peek behind him where you see a glimpse of his personal space. He wants you to enter his home alone with him? What would you even talk about? You don’t doubt it’d be awkward. Wait. He lives alone, right? Not that you should care. But still, if he has a partner, it’d be weird to have your ex-girlfriend in your home. 

“It’s fine. I could just wait for Hange in the lobby.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he rolls his eyes. “Just come in.” 

“But—,” you try to protest again.

“Hange will drag you up here anyway. It’s a long way down.”

“It’s literally one elevator ride,” you point at the elevator behind you. 

Levi sighs, arms crossed in front of his chest again. This time, your eyes drift from the smooth pale skin of his forearms, his biceps, to the chest that they pressed onto, and you notice that his toned muscles are more defined than it was before. It’s not the first thing noticeable about him, but he always had a great physique. He takes care of his body well and is much stronger than he looks. You remember how he could easily tackle men twice his size, that man being your old friend, Erwin. Your gaze on him only passed for a second, careful not to let him notice your stare. 

“Fine. Suit yourself.” 

Nodding, you turn your back on him again, having already decided to reject his invitation to enter his home. You had even taken a few steps away and best believe you really would have gone to the lobby as you planned. You would’ve, really, if it wasn’t for you remembering the state of your face. 

Reluctantly, you spin on your heels. Facing him now with much more distance between you, you swallowed down the humiliation creeping into your face. He’s still standing there, straight-faced and watching you leave from his door frame.

“Levi.” 

Saying his name sent your head mildly spinning. It’s a name you were adamant about not thinking about, not seeing, and definitely not speaking. It’s been a long time of suppression that your brain has become hesitant to call for him that it comes out in a wavering voice. 

Let’s just leave that on the air for a second. His name. He’s here. In front of you. 

“What?” He presses when you hesitate to talk again. 

You sigh, shoulder slumping down in shame. “Do you have like… wet wipes or something?” 

Levi rolls his eyes and steps aside to give you some space for you to enter his home. 

“Just fucking come in.”

Knowing it’s probably the better option, you comply. It’s not like he’d murder you, right? At least, you think so. 

When you passed by him as you entered, you mumbled a quick word of gratitude. While he closed the door behind you, you took it upon yourself to remove your heels and put them on the shoe rack by the door without the need for him asking to. He still probably doesn’t appreciate outdoor shoes dirtying his floor. You still like it that way too. It’s just common etiquette, you both agreed to that before when it came up in a conversation. 

You notice he’s staring at your shoes on the rack in silence when you stand back up. Instantly, you ask if you made a mistake. “What is it? Are they not supposed to go there or something?” 

The question makes him look at you. He shakes his head. “It’s nothing,” he muttered and bent down to pull open a drawer from the chest beside the shoe rack. 

He pulls out something from it, unwrapped it, and hands it to you. You look down, seeing new gray slide slippers. “Wear it.” 

With a nod, you let it land on the floor beneath you. Slipping your feet in, you find that the slippers are very comfortable. They surprisingly fit just right, well, maybe a little larger but it was fine. They don’t seem to be one of those disposable slippers you get at hotels. Is he more of a clean freak now than before that he gives his guests brand-new slippers to walk around when visiting him? 

His apartment is decent and obviously expensive. The grand living room greets you after the small hallway, illuminated by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that give you a great view of Paradis’ bustling urban jungle. Also, you don’t know what he needs three different couches for. Wait, is that a freaking massage chair? Holy shit, you need that for your stupid back. How many months of salary from ODM would that be? 

“You can put your things on the couch or the coffee table right there,” Levi instructs. You ignore the inkling to ask and tease which couch he’s talking about and gently put down your bag and the box of invitations on the coffee table next to the two couches adjacent to each other. 

You can’t help but be curious about his current career and that he’s living such a luxurious life. Granted, Levi had always been living well. But nothing quite like this. The man you knew from your past preferred to not live lavishly. 

The interior had a theme of white, black, and brown—mostly white for what you guess is a clean look. True to his character, there was no speck of dust anywhere. Everything is kept neat and clean. It almost seemed like no one was living here. 

When you look back at Levi, he’s at the end of a corridor beside what you assume is the dining area, pointing at the first door  

“The bathroom’s here. Just wash your filthy face or whatever.”

You roll your eyes, mumbling to yourself how the filth on your face was his doing before giving him a tight-lipped fake smile and entering the door he pointed to. 

When you shut the door behind you, you slam your back on the door. You close your eyes and sigh in relief. Fuck. Finally, you’re alone and can’t be seen by the onyx-haired man. What the hell is happening? You’re fucked. He’s obviously mad at you. 

It’s been seven years. He couldn’t possibly be that mad, right? Sure. You’re exes. It’s natural to not be on good terms. It’s only right that the two of you act like mature adults, right? 

Opening your eyes when you feel a little more calm, you face the mirror. Oh, you looked horrible . You looked like a baker who had too much fun with her flour. Some got to your hair too. Fuck. That’s it. You’re going to kill him.

You washed your face until you were satisfied, a bit upset that your light makeup had to be removed. Admittedly, you were more concerned with the fact that you’re going to face Levi barefaced than the wasted effort you’ve put in for the simple look, no matter how small. Partly because come on, you’re exes. It’s basically a rule (and a somewhat toxic one at that, you admit) to appear better than you’ve seen your ex last to make them see that you’re better off without them. It’s not that you want him to want you again or regret how things ended up between the two of you. You just don’t want to look like you’re not doing well, even to Hange and the others. But more so to him. The darkening bags under your eyes resulted from having not slept enough in months because of handling your new living arrangements and adjusting to your new job. You haven’t been eating much either, often forgetting meals when you’re too busy. The way you look isn’t really on your priority list. It hasn’t been for a long time. 

There was a mild skin cleanser on the sink that you hoped he wouldn’t mind you using. Well, he shouldn’t. It’s his fault that you have to wash your face. The surprise reunion with Levi alone was enough to make you insecure in multiple ways. It didn’t have to be worsened by you catching cleaning supplies in the face. 

Instead of looking for a spare towel, you used toilet paper to dab your face dry. The moment you felt refreshed enough and figure you’ve taken long enough before your host thinks you're locking yourself in his bathroom to avoid him, you come out and find him sitting on the couch with two cups of tea. One beside your things and the other in his hand in the unique way he does so, fingers holding the rim instead of the handle and using the space between his thumb and index finger to drink. 

He glances at you when he hears the door open but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stares back out his glass window. Unsure of what to do next, you decide to sit on the other couch in front of the other tea. 

Again, silence wraps around the two of you.

You rub your hands on your jeans, looking around the living room subtly. Not that you were particularly interested in his interior design, it’s just easier to avoid his face even if he’s just staring out the window quietly. It’s so obvious that he’s not even in deep thought. He’s waiting for you to speak first. He’s not gonna be the one to do it. He’s waiting to see how you’ll play this out. 

What the fuck do you talk to him about? The weather? His comfortable guest slippers? The impending doom of capitalism and technology? Honestly, anything but the past. 

You take a deep breath. Fine. Whatever. Here we go. 

“How have you—,” you were interrupted before you could even finish the question. 

“I doubt you actually care how I’m doing but I’m good.” He says as he puts down his teacup on the table. 

Stunned. Astonished. That’s what you are right now. All that and he still doesn’t spare you a glance. But you’re aware that he’s observing your every move. That’s okay. You can try again. Patience. Kindness. You can see this through by being a civil, respectful citizen. 

You cleared your throat.

“You look—,” he finishes the sentence for you this time, having guessed what you were about to say. 

“It looks like you’re about to tell me I look good, which is dumb. I don’t need you to tell me that.” 

You blink repeatedly. 

Wow. He is much more of an asshole now, isn’t he? 

You can practically feel your blood starting to boil. This is starting to be fucking ridiculous. When is Hange coming? Is she even coming? Maybe you should text her and ask her why you’re in front of Levi and not her. Or maybe just beg her to get to his apartment at full speed?

“You’re supposed to meet with Hange today, right?” 

He finally looks at you. You look at him. And then you nod, preferring to stay quiet. 

“Must be important if you went all the way here after seven years for Hange,” he gathered in a sarcastic tone. 

If he thinks that, then Hange or Moblit hasn’t told him that you’re back in Paradis even if you didn’t tell her not to. You wonder why that is. Maybe they haven’t had the time? Maybe he hasn’t had the time? Nonetheless, you don’t know how to correct him. But something is telling you that you should.  

You rub the back of your neck, head tilting, unsure of what to say but you agree. “Well… I guess?” 

The invitations are kind of important, aren’t they? They’re kind of late too. These have to be sent out after this weekend. 

“Tch,” he sassed at your unsure response. 

And then it was silent again. 

In the midst of it, you contemplate if and how you’re going to break the news that you’re in Paradis for work and not solely for meeting Hange. You doubt he even cared about your life update. 

Before you can decide in your thoughts, his deep voice breaks the silence. 

“So… you’re getting married.” He spread his knees apart to lean forward and rest his elbows on his knees. 

Your shoulders tense up. A look of puzzlement crosses your face, unsure if you heard his words correctly. You lean an ear in his direction lightly and raise your voice. “I’m getting what ?” 

He raises a brow and gives you a look of contempt as if you’re lying to him. When you continue to give him a bewildered look, he taps the box you brought to the table with four fingers. You look down at the box confused, searching for any clue that leads to his conclusion that you were apparently tying the knot. 

Oh.

You ordered it so it was addressed to you. 

The box had your name and a description of ‘Wedding Invitations ’ on it. Did Levi think that you were getting married and went all the way here to invite Hange? Your lips part as you nod to yourself, understanding the situation that apparently transpired. 

When you look at Levi, he’s still waiting for an answer. You sigh and rub your temples, explaining calmly and slowly. “Levi, those are Hange’s wedding invitations.” 

His brows furrow. Now, it’s his turn to be confused. But you don’t wait for him to ask and explain further. “I handled her wedding invitations as a favor when she texted me that there was a problem with it. I’m just bringing them here to deliver it.” 

He takes in every word and pauses to think, the information you gave him is not just adding up in his head. He still appears puzzled. “But why you ?” 

You shrug and answer quickly while lifting the teacup in front of you to your face. “I knew a way to handle it so I offered.” 

You take a sip. It’s green tea. It’s good. You wonder what brand it is but you’re definitely not gonna ask him. 

He nods but with a tightness to it, as if he’s holding back from saying something. Another follow question comes out from his lips, “And she knows this, how?” 

You understand where he's getting at. He’s easing you into telling him how the hell you’re in contact with his friend after so long. He’s probably curious as to how and when this friendship started and if Hange has been keeping this from him for a while. 

“We’ve been texting,” you admit while setting down the cup, seeing no point in denying the truth and acting like you’re going behind his back. 

His brows raised for a second, amused. Then, his face returns to his usual stoic ones, but this time with a darkened gaze. You guess that he probably feels somewhat betrayed that his friend kept this little information from him, not that she was entitled to tell him about who she reconnected with. Hange was your friend too so you don’t see what’s so wrong about that. 

You stared at his face pointedly and replied with a sharpened tone. “Don’t make that face. It’s barely been a week,” you add, not even waiting for him to ask ‘Since when? ’ because it’s written all over his face. 

He stays quiet and avoids your eyes, fixing his gaze to nothing particular by his side. You take this chance to add more to it. “We ran into each other while shopping and exchanged numbers. Is that all you want to know?” 

His jaw clenched. You could see his side profile so clearly with how he looked to the side. Your words make him realize something. “…you’re back in town?” 

You huff, infuriated that the thought of you being back in Paradis was appalling to him. “For almost a month now. For a job. It’s not permanent yet so don’t go cursing me around already.” 

“And here I thought you promised you’d stay far away from me,” he recalled tightly with a smirk on his face.

“Yeah. You’re all about keeping promises, aren’t you?” 

You look down at your black top that still holds a bit of evidence from his childish skit by the door. Your fingers pinch the loose fabric by your chest to see the neckline and collar better.

“I am,” he agrees sternly, meeting your eyes. 

You scoff, bringing your hands back down on your lap. He sits up and leans back on the couch, chin raised and legs crossed. He was taunting you. He wants to see you riled up. It’s not going to happen. Does he think that you can’t handle him? 

The only way you can win his game is to act like the calm and mature grown-up you are. In short, unbothered. It’s not like you did anything wrong except for cutting communication with everyone after graduation. It was what you thought to be the right thing to do. Of course, you feel bad that you hurt them. But if you had to go back in time, you’d do it again. 

With fists balling tight on your lap, you taunt back through gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. “I didn’t expect you to be like this. How are you still holding a grudge after seven years?” 

“How are you still so shamelessly indifferent after seven years?” 

He spat every venomous word out and meant it, showing from the way his eyes aggressively sent daggers to your face. The words left a deep frown on his mouth, glaring at you relentlessly. 

The pent-up, irritated expression on your face falls down in an instant. Like an attack, those two words are trying to break their way into your carefully curated walls, making you harden up. 

Shamelessly indifferent. 

How are you still so shamelessly indifferent?  

With an impassive face, your soulless eyes bore into his icy ones. You set your lips into a straight line, giving away no expression he could read into. 

How are you still so shamelessly indifferent?  

His cold glare challenges your devoid expression. Like two hard walls parallel to each other, no one is seeing the other as they truly are unless one breaks down. 

How are you still so shamelessly indifferent?  

Neither of you will willingly let that happen. You won’t surrender your armor just yet when it has helped you last this long. You know your decisions would lead to this. To his hatred. You were fine with it. You were fine with being the protagonist of both your stories. There are much bigger things than that in this life that you were willing to trade anything for. 

How are you still so shamelessly indifferent?

If that’s the case… Why do you feel so freshly wounded? 

A door bursts open, startling the two of you. A loud boisterous voice pierces your ears, shouting your name. Your head whips in the direction of the way leading to the front door. You hear it close gently, then there were some thuds and sounds of shoes. From your peripheral, you see Levi slap a palm on his face with a groan. 

The footsteps come running in, revealing an excited but disheveled-looking Hange. As she spots you sitting on the couch, she lets out a piercing shriek and jumps up with wavering hands. Her energy is so intensely soaring that an affectionate smile spreads on your face instantly as a response and has greeted her with it. 

She runs to you across the floor in her socks and then tackles you into an enormous warm hug. You hear Levi sigh from his seat while he stares at the situation. You’re being squished again, Hange pressed to your side and hanging onto you like a koala. 

“Now, Hange. Please don’t hog her all to yourself.” 

Your ears perked up at the sound of the deep voice and whip your head in that direction. As you suspected, there’s a grinning tall, blonde, and handsome man standing not far from you. He’s in actual indoor slippers too unlike Hange who just threw off her shoes. 

Erwin was always the most, if not the only, mature among the four of you. He just had this aura that overpowers everyone when he walks into a room. Smart, confident, and a born leader. You always looked up to him when you were young. 

“Erwin,” you gaped as he strides towards you. 

Now standing beside you and Hange (who was still refusing to let you go), he reaches in and pats your head gently. “Hey, Greenie,” he greets you warmly, which you exchange with a genuine smile of delight. 

Erwin then proceeds to gently sit in the space beside you. All while smirking at his friend who sat alone on the couch across from the three of you. ”Levi, you look awfully upset,” he teased. 

“Hange, explain. Now.” Levi ignores his blonde friend’s attempt to mock him, focusing deadly on the brunette woman clinging to you. You feel Hange lightly shudder at his words. When you tap her arm, you look at her with pleading eyes, indicating you agree with Levi in wanting an explanation for this predicament you don’t doubt she planned. 

Pouting, Hange reluctantly releases you from her hold. She stares back at Levi who’s waiting but clearly without much patience. She looks at you who raised your brows, urging her to speak up. She huffs while facing forward again, arms crossed but her mouth quivering in excitement. 

“Pft,” she holds back a laugh.

“Hange,” Levi warns in spite. 

And then she bursts. 

“Okay, fine! I sent her your address instead of mine intentionally.” She throws her hands in the air enthusiastically, amusingly proud of herself. Then she turns to you sheepishly. “In my defense, I didn’t explicitly say it’s my address in the texts.” 

Your mouth drops. “What? Yes, you did.”

Hange shakes her head, thoroughly convinced. “No. You said ‘Hange, what’s your address? I’ll have a courier send the invitations to you.’ And then I said ‘No. Just come to this address after work on Saturday and personally give it to me.’ So technically, no, I didn’t. You just assumed it.” 

You stare at her, dumbfounded. Beside you, Erwin chuckles and Levi grumbles at her explanation. “Great. Here comes the Harvard graduate.”

After taking a deep breath, you calmly ask. “Okay… but why here?” A valid question, you feel. Why would Hange purposely send you to Levi’s home? Her friend’s ex-girlfriend? With both of you unaware?

Hange grins from ear to ear, wriggling like a worm on her seat. She can’t help herself but stand up to explain in exaggeration, walking back and forth with hand gestures. 

“Well my dearest friends, you see, when I saw Greenie for the first time after seven years, coincidentally before my wedding and the same day one of my planned bridesmaids called to tell me they can’t attend the wedding. I knew that it had to be fate. This was the gods aligning the universe for me and my wedding. Unfortunately, she rejected my invitation.” 

“Of course, she would, dipshit. Why would you practically invite a stranger to your wedding?” Levi sneers at you. You roll your eyes. Hange ignores the remark from Levi that was meant to insult you and claps her hand loudly to distract you from getting down into a glaring contest. 

“As I was saying, she refused my invitation. I was okay with that at first then my big brain was like… ‘It’s probably because of Levi!’ So I thought that we could all have a lovely day together to get over the dramatic reunion and see if we could all be civil before the wedding, you know?” Hange ends with hands on her waist. 

“That makes zero sense,” you whisper to yourself while shaking your head. 

“All of this is to get her to attend your shitty wedding?” Levi complains.

Hange nods enthusiastically, eyes flitting back and forth from Levi and then to you. “So? What’s our status? Do you guys still hate each other? Wanna kill each other?”

“I definitely want to kill someone. But it’s not her,” Levi’s face hardened, shooting daggers at Hange who didn't even bat an eye. 

“Walk it off, Levi. You didn’t answer my question,” Hange brushes his words of murderous attempt at her life. 

“I don’t know, Hange. He literally sprayed some window-cleaning solution on my face and threw baking soda on me earlier. Who knows? Maybe he’ll dunk my face on your wedding cake next,” you chime in. 

Erwin snorts. Hange gasps. Levi tilts his head back with closed eyes, sighing. Their immediate reaction to your words left a bewildered look on your face. 

“He actually did it?!” Hange dramatically slaps a hand over her mouth, gaping at Levi in disbelief. “No fucking way!”

“Wow, Levi. I guess all those practices were worth it, weren’t they?” Even Erwin taunts with an amused grin. Now that catches your attention. He had been practicing throwing you his cleaning supplies?  Why would he… unless…? 

You turned to the blonde man, perplexed. “He practiced it?” 

“No,” Levi is quick to deny, now sitting up straight. 

“Yes,” Hange and Erwin answer you at the same time.

Levi doesn’t speak without a sound of distaste leaving his mouth and sending daggers to his two friends. “Don’t flatter yourself. They ask me to do it.”

“Oh, yes we do. Especially when he’s had too much to drink.” Hange says as she finally sits back down beside you.

“Moblit purposefully gets him to a drinking contest just so he can do it,” Erwin says. 

“It ends with both of them getting awfully wasted. It’s really funny that the trouble of getting them home is almost worth it,” Hange whispers to you. 

“One time, at a party, he started throwing baking soda everywhere like he’s blessing the house with some sort of ritual,” Erwin reminisced and shook his head. 

Levi, obviously having enough of his friends’ betrayal and teasing, rolls his eyes and gets up from his seat to leave. “That’s it. I’m not hearing any of this shit.” He turns his back and starts to stride off to his spacious kitchen with his teacup in his hand while Hange snickers beside you, sharing looks of amusement with Erwin. 

You’re unaware of how to act. Should you act friendly to Hange and Erwin? Should you leave? You’re not sure of what’s really happening here. Maybe it’d be better if you just leave and apologetically reject Hange’s invite for the last time. Although you’re glad that the two had received you warmly despite how long it’s been and Levi, as annoying as he is, even offered you to freshen up in his home. 

How are you still so shamelessly indifferent?  

Maybe it’s better if you still keep your distance from them. You’re not implying you’ll ignore or jump to the next city again. It would be good for both you and Levi to not share the same friend group again. You should know your place. 

You place a hand on top of Hange’s that was on her lap, letting out a soft sigh before you speak. An apology is due to your old friends. It’s okay. You can do it. Just don’t cry. 

“Hange, I really appreciate the invite. Truly. But it’s more than the reason you think. It’s just been so long and I probably don’t know anyone there anymore, you know?” You started explaining with a smile and then moved your head to Erwin and continued.

“And I know that it wasn’t nice, disappearing all those years ago. I’m sorry if that upset you.” You squeeze Hange’s hand while looking at Erwin who now has abandoned his playful attitude just seconds ago. He was listening to you intently. It wasn’t like him to bare his emotions out in the open but unlike Levi’s form of being guarded. Erwin has just always just been like that, keeping his emotions controlled and regulated. And yet, you see a tinge of sadness in his eyes. You know you do owe them some kind of closure. And once you’ve given them that, you’ll be on your way and live your life in Paradis quietly just as you’ve been doing for the past seven years. This time, just a little bit closer to them. 

“But the three of you have still been so kind to me now despite that and how long it’s been. So thank you.” You made sure to include Levi knowing he’s listening somewhere in his kitchen. You turn your head to Hange who stayed quiet with her chin down, your hand still in each other’s. Her hand is rough, no doubt from her adventurous personality. Despite that, you appreciate the warmth of her hand. It reminded you of how that same warmth comforted you in the past when you needed it. 

“I do agree with Levi, though. It might be a bit weird if I attend your wedding out of nowhere. I’m glad that you want me back in your life. But attending and playing such an important role in your wedding might be too soon for me not to feel bad about it. Don’t worry about me, Hange. I want you to enjoy your day with Moblit,” you whisper the last two sentences to Hange who still hung her head down. 

“Ah…” Hange’s deep voice grovels, a tone she only uses when she’s serious. “I really thought that it would work.” 

You chuckle, placing your other hand on your intertwined ones. “If Levi was able to do what he apparently always wanted to do with me, then I’d say it went well. For him, at least.”

Hange finally lifts her face, looking defeated. It instantly makes you feel guilty having done that. 

“I appreciate you looking out for me. For Levi. But hey, we can still hang out. Erwin, you wanna have my number? Hange has it.”

Erwin nods, smiling genuinely. “I will take you up on that. I might need a lawyer. Who’s better than an attorney from ODM?” 

“Wait, you know where I work?” 

Erwin scoffs. “It’s me, Greenie. What do you think?” 

You let it go with a short laugh. It’s either Hange told him or his smartass somehow knows. Sometimes, you think Erwin should’ve pursued being a detective. Or the President, though that would be quite dangerous, you feel. 

“Oi.” 

The three of you turn your heads in the direction of Levi’s voice who stood on the threshold of the way to the kitchen. While his side leaning on the wall, he had his arms crossed, staring right into your eyes with the same exasperated expression painted on his face. Once he caught everyone’s attention, he spoke.

“Don’t be dramatic and just go to the wedding.” 

“But—“

“It’s just a wedding. You said it yourself. Nobody knows you. It should be easy to go and leave.” 

You pause, tilting your chin down to think for yourself. You do want to go but there’s something holding you back. Shame, maybe. 

“Unless you’re really uncomfortable with me, which should hardly be the case. Because for me, I really don’t care if you’re there or not. It’s your choice.” 

You look at Hange, whose eyes are now beginning to fill with hope but she silently awaits your answer. You look at Levi again, trying to decipher his words and actions. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with me being there?” You ask him. 

Levi sighs like he’s tired of the question. “I couldn’t care less, Greenie .” And then he turns around again, disappearing back to the kitchen. 

Hange doesn’t ask for an answer right away. Easy enough, one question from Erwin about how Hange's day got the atmosphere to shift into a lighter one, shifting from one conversation to another. When Hange was in the middle of babbling about her wedding preparations, Levi came out of the kitchen with a tray of snacks and drinks. 

They’re just fruit sandwiches and another batch of tea. Your mouth instantly waters, remembering the fact that all you had for lunch today was the pack of pocky sticks you had in your bag and a mango juice you bought in the office cafeteria. Both of which you ate in the car on the way home. Sue your laziness. 

“Thank you so much, househusband Levi!” Hange takes one of the sandwiches in an instance, munching on the soft bread filled with whipped cream and sliced strawberries. 

“Whatever. Don’t make a fucking mess.” He sits down and turns on the television for what you guess is background noise. He throws the remote to Erwin who swiftly catches it without a warning. 

While Erwin switches through different apps and channels with Levi’s eyes on the television, you take the opportunity to get a sandwich for yourself, carefully holding it between your fingers. While your other hand is under your mouth to avoid being messy, you take a bite and immediately fight to hold back to moan. How is this strawberry so good and sweet? 

You practically inhaled the sandwich right after. Though you don’t look at him, you swear that you saw a corner of Levi’s mouth twitch upwards. You’re not sure if that was because of you or the survival reality tv show that Erwin had settled on playing but decided to believe it’s the latter, not wanting to overthink whatever was that. 

The next few hours were tolerable enough. The topics, as thankful as you are, are never about you for long, it’s mostly Hange talking your ears off about her work. You told them what you just told Hange about your life. Those being where you work and what you do. You also told them you’d been in Trost for a while before being transferred here. Though nearing the end of your gathering, one conversation led to something you were trying to avoid, you know that it was just a matter of time before they had to know. 

Erwin, after offering to drive you home, asked you where you were staying, and when you told them where you didn’t miss their looks of disfavor. 

“That crappy apartment by The Underground?” Hange was the first to say something out of concern. 

You nod. You understand their disapproval, the place isn’t exactly the safest in the city. It isn’t like you couldn’t afford something better, you just didn’t want to commit to something permanent only to leave again. “Don’t give me that look, Hanj. It’s not that bad.” 

“Still, it’s not very safe for you and Marjorie.” Hange insists. You gave her a smile, and though you try not to make it seem sad, the thought of your grandmother still brings upon a tight pang in your chest no matter how long it’s been. 

“Marj… she’s not with me… anymore,” you tell them, looking down at the teacup in your hand and explaining in one word. “Leukemia.”

Everyone in the room immediately froze for a few seconds as they looked at you in shock which you hated. Hange’s hands flew to her mouth, stuttering an immediate apology. From your right, Erwin pats your shoulders in consolation. Levi is just staring at you, ever so unreadable. 

“It’s fine, uh… it’s been a while since she passed. Don’t worry about it,” you chuckle, a hard attempt to convince them. You weren’t lying, though. It’s really been a while for you to have a breakdown at the thought of it. “And The Underground is not that bad anymore. I’ll be safe.”

If this was seven years ago, you wouldn’t have even considered living in The Underground alone. It’s this neighborhood in Paradis that was infamous for sheltering delinquents, criminals, and runaways. It’s always been a part of the city that never agreed with the ideals of the local government because of its informal settlers who refused to leave. That is why it's often set on fire. Literally. There’s never any proof but it was common knowledge that it's done to make them leave. That is also why the lodging and apartments close to it are the cheapest in the city.

The landlord had done well in selling the one-bedroom apartment to you, not uttering a word about The Underground and only of how big of a catch it was because it’s the cheapest in the city and someone had just recently moved out of it. You knew better before entertaining a visit though, well aware of the consequences and why there were triple locks on the front door. In defense of your decision, the inside of the place wasn’t actually crap, the interior of the apartment is modern and surprisingly clean. There were secure locks on the windows too. It’s really just the outside of the building that is due for a repaint, littered with both vulgar and creative vandalism. You realized that the reason why it has such a run-down appearance was also to keep it safe. There’s hardly anyone that would want to rob what basically looks like it’s falling apart. 

To add to that, when you drove past The Underground, it was surprisingly not as chaotic and loud as it was before. You thought that maybe some new mayor actually had a functioning brain and realized that setting fire to the poor population doesn’t really fix anything. So what the hell, you took a bite of the risk and accepted the 6 months lease. 

“It is,” Erwin surprisingly agreed with you. “But nevertheless, you are a vulnerable woman living alone. I can help you look for some other cheaper apartment away from it if you want.” 

“Thank you, Win,” you genuinely say to him. “But I’ll be fine. It’s just for 6—actually, just 5 months left now. If I get permanent employment at ODM, it will come with an apartment as a benefit, actually.” 

“If you say so,” Erwin reluctantly agrees. “But the second you feel unsafe, text me. I would take care of things immediately.” 

“I don’t doubt you will,” you granted, thankful. You don’t feel particularly fearful of where you’re staying. You definitely lived in worse places without much choice. Physically wise, you can take care of yourself… you think. 

With a deep inhale, you hook your bag in your arm and get up from the couch. “Well, it’s getting a bit late. I should go.” 

“No! Don’t go yet,” Hange whined, pouting. 

“Are you sure we can’t convince you to stay for dinner?” Erwin stands up as well, ever the gentleman. You really don’t want to intrude or overstay. Besides, the owner of the house didn’t even invite you to stay. It’s easy for you to read the room. 

Shaking your head, you look up as you reply to the tall blonde man. “Nah. I gotta go take care of some things tonight, sorry. Next time?” you ask, particularly to everyone despite only conversing with Erwin. 

“Absolutely,” Erwin responds. You give him a smile. “Alright. Text me.” 

“Hange, I’ll text you my decision about the wedding very soon, okay? Thanks for today.” You say as you give Hange a hug to which she reciprocates lovingly.

“Ugh. I miss you already.” She sighs then leans into your ear. “Sorry about setting you up today,” she apologizes with a snicker. You pat her back in response. When she lets you go, she still has that big grin on her face.

You turn to Levi, giving him a nod out of courtesy. “Levi.”

He nods in return, gaze still heavy on you. He says your name back as a form of goodbye, still seated on the couch cross-legged as you stand in front of him, the low coffee table in between the two of you. 

“Thanks for the… tea and snack.” Though sincere, you didn’t mean for it to come out the opposite. 

“I’m sure you were,” Levi’s piercing eyes could cut through like a knife. You size him up in a similar regard. He was the attacker and you were the defender in this staring contest and you were the most competitive pair this game has seen, no one eager to back down. 

“Levi, why don’t you escort your guest to her car?” 

It was Erwin’s question that sliced through the tension, cutting their game short. 

Levi scoffs. “Do it yourself.”

”There’s no need for that, Win,” you say almost at the same time.

“Nonsense,” he addresses you and then the man on the couch. “Levi, don’t be a rude host.” Erwin glares at Levi. You almost smile at the interaction. Levi and Erwin had always been an odd pair. The blonde always had a way with the raven-haired boy, always pushing him to a certain extent but it was always for the better. It seems like that dynamic hasn’t changed at all. 

“Really, Erwin. I’m gonna be fine. I’ll text you when I get home,” you say lightheartedly as you’re already walking to the door to wear your shoes. 

Erwin and Hange followed you, watching as you slipped off the house slippers and wore your heels. You bid the pair one last goodbye before stepping out of the lavish apartment.

Sighing, you begrudgingly walk away from his door as you feel the tension leave you when you were no longer in the same room as them. It was a relief but god was that exhausting. 

You missed them though. It felt so… weird. They matured but never changed their personalities. It’s like if seven years ago, someone told you to picture how the trio would be, you would’ve pictured them as they are now. It’s funny, you think, how circumstances and situations can change everything about a person, how one heavy decision leads to a myriad of decisions too, how everything interconnects and falls apart. It’s all so funny. 

As you wait for the elevator to rise to Levi’s floor, you hear his door creak open, revealing Levi with a petulant face. You raised a brow but don’t utter a word. Erwin must have made him do it somehow. 

He silently waits beside you, letting him do whatever he has to in silence. The elevator dings open and you step inside immediately. You pressed the lobby level as Levi steps in. 

It was quiet, only the subtle elevator music fills what was supposed to be an empty silence. Levi doesn’t even look at you, just glaring hard at the closing doors of the elevator with crossed arms. You look at him, shoulders tensed but face unbothered. He obviously did not want to be here with the way his face is scrunched up and his foot was tapping aggressively. It’s not like you wanted him to be here either. You just want to get out of here as soon as possible and away from him. 

And of course, just like the heavens heard you, the elevator abruptly halts to a stop with a hard rattle, the lights flickering for two seconds before being stable again. You gasped a little in shock but you stay on your feet and maintained your balance, your hand gripping your bag for emotional support. 

Levi, however, immediately holds your arm in response. 

You look at him and his hand on you. His eyes were wide in worry and his hold was almost in a form of a tug before he stopped, your arm now raised mid-air. He didn’t look frightened, just cautious and agile. It was almost like it triggered his protective instinct. 

When he realized, he immediately lets go as if you were scalding. 

Sighing, you walk to the buttons and pressed the emergency button. When the light came on, you spoke into the microphone. “We’re stuck in the elevator with a direct line to the penthouse. Please send assistance.” 

Immediately, someone from maintenance or security replies back with an assurance that they’re on it. They proceeded to ask how many are there with you and if everyone is alright. The typical questions at emergencies like this. 

“We’re both fine. Your penthouse resident is pissed as hell, though.” 

“We apologize, ma’am and sir Levi. We will have this elevator going in no time. Don’t worry.” 

The emergency button’s light fades and you sigh, going back to the middle where you stood earlier.

“You don’t seem to be very startled,” Levi spoke up.

You look at him for a second, surprised he’s starting a conversation with you. You don’t have a problem with tight spaces and you’re confident that you won’t die even if you’re basically stuck in a tin can right now. This is a well-sought apartment complex and this is probably an expensive tin can. It won’t come crashing down soon. “Is there a reason I should be?” 

He clears his throat and then doesn’t say anything back. He’s back on ignoring you and cursing every corner of the room with his venomous glare. He’s back on his anxious foot tapping again, the sound of his shoes tapping is as annoying as the droplets of water hitting the sink. It’s annoying you more than the godawful elevator music. 

“God, can you stop that?” You spat, brows furrowed. 

“No,” he denied in an instant. 

You roll your eyes. “Piece of shit.” 

“Says you,” he mumbled, his foot tapping growing incessantly faster. You know he’s just trying to rile you up more.

“It blows my mind how you’re still this grumpy and insufferable. I assumed age would compensate for the lack of social skills.” You glare at him. “And what was that? You practiced throwing those cleaning supplies? That’s all you could think of to do or say to me after seven years?” 

“What about you?” 

“What about me?”

“That’s all you could say? Sorry? After what you’ve done?”

“What have I done, Levi? What have I done that was so wrong?” 

“God, you’re so conceited.” He rolls his eyes. “You can’t even make up an excuse for leaving. That’s why you ran like a coward. Now you’re back and all you had to say was ‘sorry’? And not even to me?” 

“Why? What else did you expect from me when I appeared at your door, Levi?” You spat with a venomous taunt. 

He was left speechless, you assume not knowing what to say or maybe holding back on something. You decided to continue, eyes fixed on the metal doors in front of you. 

“I thought about it—what I was going to say to you after all those years. But I know that I wouldn’t have been as bitter as you. It’s been seven years. We broke up before I even left. As a former friend, I was in the wrong for ghosting everyone. As an ex-girlfriend, I have no obligations to you.”

The elevator dinged and suddenly, the whirling sound of the machine was back, and only after a few seconds of silence did the doors open and you immediately stepped out, breathing in the air from the lobby. You were expecting Levi to follow you out but when you turned your head to look back at him, he was still inside the elevator, looking at you with a stare so cold that it will give anyone near frostbite. The corners of his mouth are pointing downwards into a frown directed at you and his arms are laying limply by his sides. 

Confused and heavily startled by his expression, you could only watch as the elevator doors closed with him still inside, eyes never leaving yours, and with a look on his face that mirrors the same one when you left him seven years ago. 

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.

[cotlfanficspromptsblog]

COTL(ROTOF) Fanfic

Chapter 5 : "Fate decides Otherwise"

4-30-23, Day 1093 @ 9:04pm

"Its been only 3 days since things used to be Normal at The Nightosphere Cult since Lambert made a Promise to Samantha to bring her Dead Best Friends Back which sadly failed since at first it seemed possible with the resurrection ritual he chose but each time it was a failed attempt after failed attempt to bring Lady D(Dimmi) & M3gan(M3g) back to Life.

Samantha was then crying in her Empty Shared Shelter by just sleeping but quietly sobbing tears on her face. Her darling Husband came over to check on the poor Bat Girl by giving her his Handkerchief with the symbol of the red crown on it(in some form the crown felt sympathy for Samantha aswell)

Lambert : "Hey Honey, it's okay if i came inside?

Samantha turns around and sees Lambert with a Tissue Box and a Blanket

Samantha : *Sniffs* Sure thing Lamby.. come in

Lambert sits next his Wife by handing her a Tissue to blow her nose on and a comfy blanket to sleep cozy.

Samantha : *blows her nose* Thanks lamby..

Lambert : *kisses her forehead* feel a little better?

Samantha : yeah i guess so.. but still heartbroken about y'know..

Lambert : well sorry our resurrections of dimmi and m3g didn't work out. if there's anyway i could just try again i would do it for both of us.

Samantha : it's alright lamby, besides we tried our best. because despite having to sacrifice both dimmi and m3g they weren't just 2 loyal members of our spouse circle to both you and nari, they were like sisters to me after losing my own years ago. ever since they joined i bonded close with you, narinder and the girls and never wanted to lose them. i hope you understand that lamby because i do!

Lambert felt so astonished and heartwarmed by what his wife said to him as she remembered dimmi and m3g from way back when it was simplier and the day of reckoning(the coordination of lambert) was bound to come and just being happy together as a Found Family with Narinder Included. The young lamb had many thoughts in his head from trying to bring his 2 beloved spouses back or trying his own backup plan : "sacrificing samantha forever to create newer versions of all 3 girls in the cult by giving them new gold necklaces helping them gain the immortal trait like narinder has"

Lambert : Samantha, i have an idea but it's gonna be a pretty risky deal in the aftermath.

Samantha : *turns her head in shock* what is it lamby?

Lambert : *inhales* okay sammi.. *exhales* i could bring dimmi and m3g back only way for it work is if i.. i..

Samantha : is if what dear?

Lambert then starting forming tears down his face from trying not be harsh towards his beloved bat wife, since out of all of lamberts spouses next to narinder he cared deeply about Samantha the most from her kindness, compassion and motherly instincts towards him as being like a caring co-dependent spouse towards him. lambert's tears were streaming down his gray face like a waterfall by trying form the words that would possibly scare or haunt him after "doing the deed"

Finally after watching Samantha's Cute & Beautiful Face looking worried for her husband, lambert finally had enough confidence to form his words.

Lambert : look sammi, i i.. could bring back Dimmi & M3g to life only if i could sacrifice yourself as a exchange to give all 3 of you gold skull necklaces to gain Immortality..

Samantha feeling both horrified but grateful for her Husband's Request to stay immortal sounded at first to her like a tough choice since she never wanted to become old and elderly like most mortal members of the cult since once a member becomes old and elderly their useless(meaning no more using demon forms in crusades, having fun and etc.) so she had a few minutes to think to herself to make a tough decision : stay mortal or be immortal?

Samantha felt being immortal with her husbands & 2 sister wives would be heavenly as a gift for herself and her friends but on the other hand being mortal to sammi felt boring cuz your just another regular measly member probably useless for a fight pit or sacrifice. so overall she choose to become immortal with her sisters and husbands even if it was a hard risk to take which she accepted at 1000 yrs old.

Samantha : yes lamby, i accept your decision. i'll miss you though

Lambert : me too *sniffs* me too.. *sobs*

Lambert & Samantha then hugged harder than ever before since it was a final goodbye for now kind of hug. but the couple embraced the moment they shared and the next morning they'll never see each other again

To be Continued...

Author's Note : "So i guess this is a new fanfic series of mine, well judging by the looks of it, yup it's officially a on-going story from my in-game playing POV but through the choices i make in my cult of Nightosphere SaveFile. the next part will be not that long probs tomorrow. and chapters will only show on this blog only dedicated to it while my ingame stuff will be on my main COTL Blog @ravenouscultleader780

Bye

[sakura-samsara]

Ikemen Genjiden: Prologue (Part 5 of 10)

← Part 4

Yoshitsune: If you leave now, I will spare your life. However, you must leave the fox behind.

When Yoshitsune raised his sword again, swirls of dust blew into the air around my feet, as if being sucked into the swirling wind surrounding him.

(He’s so frightening…)

Yoritomo: …Yoshino, leave.

Yoshino: But…

Yoritomo had briefly paused to collect himself, but soon ran towards Yoshitsune again; Morinaga immediately followed him.

(I want to get away from all of this madness right now!)

(But…)

(I’ve already given this little fox medical treatment. After I saved its life, am I really going to leave it here to die again…?)

Yoshino: I can’t abandon the fox!!

With a new sense of urgency and resolve, I held the little fox tightly in my arms with all my strength…

…And all of a sudden, I began to hear the sound of many bells ringing from somewhere in the distance.

Yoritomo: …What is that sound?

??? (Tamamo): I’ve taken a liking to you, woman~

(Whose voice is that…?)

Bright white light overflowed into my field of vision, making everything around me invisible, before the faint silhouette of a figure appeared in front of me.

??? (Tamamo): Your soul is simply beautiful. So… Will you allow me to make a contract with you?

(He has animal ears and a tail… Is he not a human?!)

Yoshino: What are you? Where did you come from…?

I was too dazzled by the glare of the light to think straight. Amidst my confusion, I felt the stranger’s arms embrace me—and then I realized that I could see him clearly now.

??? (Tamamo): Why do you speak so coldly towards me? Even after you protected me so bravely in your slender arms… I’m almost heartbroken.

Yoshino: Tried to protect… Ahh!!!

(Impossible! There’s no way!)

(Silver hair and golden eyes, and that mysterious decoration… And more than anything else, his ears and tail remind me only of one thing.)

Yoshino: The little fox from before?!

??? (Tamamo): My name is Tamamo. I won’t mind if you use it. …Call my name, Yoshino.

Yoshino: Tama…mo…

Tamamo: Good. Do remember it well. It is the name of the ayakashi to whose soul yours is connected, after all.

Yoshino: Ayakashi?!!

In a single graceful motion, Tamamo gathered both of my hands into his and brought them close to his lips.

Tamamo: We can explain all of that later. Right now… There’s something I must do with your body first.

(With my body…?! Nn-!)

Tamamo gently brushed my fingertips to his lips, and a sweet tingling sensation shot all the way through my body, making me feel numb with euphoria.

Moments later, a mysterious heat began to pulse through my bloodstream…

(What’s happening?! My body feels so… hot…)

Yoshino: Aah…!

The overwhelming heat flowed through me like a crashing river, filling every corner and crevice of my body.

Tamamo: Don’t be afraid, now. Just like that… Slowly… Accept me within yourself.

He stroked my back with his hand to calm me down; I couldn’t help but relax at his gentle touch.

(…Nn…)

At that moment, a particularly strong sensation surged down my spine, making my whole body tremble.

I shook my head in a daze as the bright light around me subsided. Once I could see normally again, I felt that something was wrong with the colors I saw in my field of vision.

Yoshino: My hair… The color changed?!

Tamamo: The color of your eyes has changed as well, you know. Your hair is silver, and your eyes are gold. Just like mine.

Tamamo smiled smugly in response to my astonishment, his beautiful lips forming a perfect arc.

Tamamo: Becoming imbued with magic will partially change a human’s appearance to resemble the ayakashi they formed a pact with. I think you turned out beautifully.

Yoshino: Magic…? What did you do to me?!

Tamamo: Magic is the power of the ayakashi.

Tamamo: I bound your soul to mine and gave my power to you. That is the result of the contract that I formed with you.

(I was given the power of an ayakashi?! But… Except for my appearance and the heat in my body, it doesn’t feel like anything else about me has changed…)

I opened my mouth with the intent of asking him more questions, but the bright white light surrounding us suddenly disappeared.

When I regained my bearings, I felt everyone’s gaze on me, staring in surprise.

Morinaga: You—What happened to you?! Are you alright?

Yoritomo: Yoshino, what just happened?

Yoshino: I think I’m alright. But I have no idea what happened to me…

Upon seeing Tamamo standing beside me, Yoshitsune raised his blade and pointed it at him.

Yoshitsune: …Did you form a pact with that fox spirit?

Tamamo: Indeed she did. Yoshitsune, you seem to have done me a favor not long ago.

Tamamo: Thanks to you attacking me in my sleep, I have now lost much of my power. What do you have to say for yourself about that?

(So it was Yoshitsune who injured Tamamo so badly…)

Yoshitsune: I don’t particularly care for you. My grudge is only against Lord Yoritomo, who went so far as to transport the killing stone to Kamakura…

Yoshino: Killing stone…?

(What kind of rock has a name like that… This is just getting ridiculous!)

I had intended to keep my murmur to myself, but Morinaga picked up the sound of my voice and turned his gaze on me.

Morinaga: There is a large rock in the town of Nasu that poisons those that come near it or touch it because this fox spirit had been sealed within it. That is what we call the killing stone.

Part 6 →

Notes:

Ayakashi (あやかし) is an archaic term for a type of supernatural spirits/demon/monsters in Japanese folklore called yōkai (妖怪). In more modern usage, the term ayakashi refers mostly to a specific type of yōkai that are found above the surface of bodies of water. From my understanding, ayakashi are more like strange apparitions that are generally malevolent, while yōkai can have a wide variety of animal or humanoid features and are of varying moral alignment—but in certain contexts, and especially in archaic usage, the terms can be used interchangeably. 

Tamamo is a type of yōkai known as kitsune (狐) or yōko (妖狐), which are foxes with the ability to shapeshift into human form and are known to be cunning and mischievous. They gain a new tail for every hundred years that they live; once they've lived for 800 years and gained 9 tails, they ascend to their most powerful form, known as tenko (天狐, “heavenly fox”), and their fur turns white or golden. I’ve translated all these terms as “fox spirit” for the sake of simplicity.

I chose to translate the word 契り (chigiri) as “contract” or “pact,” but I feel like it literally means something more like “pledge” or “vow.” (Apparently it can also be a euphemism for sex.)

[malereader-inserts]

To Serve Our King and Queen

Fandom: Game of Thrones Pairing: Daenerys Targeryen x Baratheon!Reader, Sansa Stark x Baratheon!Reader Summary: A story of heart break, love and heart break again. Word Count:  2,407 Request:  Hey can u do a Daenerys x Baratheon reader where he is the son of cersei and Robert the true son. He used to be In love with Sansa but she wanted Joffrey so she break his heart. Reader leaves king’s landing with tyrion and meet Daenerys where both fall In love with each other. Later Sansa sees the reader with dany and Jon when they arrive to the north. Sansa is being disrespectful towards dany and reader put Sansa in her place and tells her to not talk to his WIFE like that ever again please. A/n: I changed it a bit, I wish it was a little bitter but oh well. 

Cersei and Robert were married before he even became king, Tywin had faith that the Baratheon would overrule the Mad King. It was the start of the downfall of their marriage, the sex was lousy, but it got the lioness pregnant. You were a beautiful babe that Cersei had fallen in love with your looks.

You were a year old when your father overthrows the throne and becomes king of the seven kingdoms. You had a somewhat happy childhood, you were spoilt by your father more than your younger brother - Joffery. Whilst your mother somewhat loved you, you knew that she loved her golden crown children more than you, you had a suspicion about your siblings, they look too much of your uncle Jaime than your father, which was known that Baratheon seed was strong.

So, you were more of a father’s boy than your mother’s. At a young age, you were trained hard, went through advisers and teachers - teaching your expanding knowledge, your father demanded that you were to start off young in training to be king, making sure you know how to fight and be a respected knight just like your father. When you were growing up, you were told tales from your uncle Tyrion, who adored you because he could hold an intellectual conversation with you.

As you grew up, often at times you went with your father to go on hunting, even met with your dad’s best friend and his children. You often had playtime with them, being good friends with Robb and Jon, but you were always wanting to be with Sansa, your father laughs that you would marry Sansa when you two were older - Ned would laugh too.

As years gone past, you tried to ignore your father’s debauchery and your mother’s ever growing hatred towards you. You grew up to be a fine young man, despite being the son of two fucked up people, you were a loved prince - charming, caring and a fighter. You were too familiar with your mother’s manipulation that you were just as smart as her in playing games.

Tywin saw your potential to rule. The people will love you, they already do, because you weren’t fake but you knew when to stand your ground. You weren’t going to be pushed around, you knew your worth to that throne and you will be king whether your mother likes it or not. 

You knew what you wanted but sometimes that’s not how it works out.

You wanted Sansa as a bride, when you arrived at Winterfell after so many years later, you saw how beautiful Sansa was. But, you could see how she was ogling on your brother Joffery, you scoffed - he’s not that big of a deal. 

“Sansa be wise, pick (Y/n),” Robb says in their little family circle after being dismissed in greeting the king, “Jon and I know him better than you, and he’s a delight.”

“But, he’s not Joffery.”

Arya snorted, “Of course, you would want a little prat than an actual prince.”

“Joffery is a prince,” Sansa argued, “He’s handsome and I love him.”

“You barely know the boy,” Robb says with concern on his voice, “How do you even know if you love him?”

You tried winning Sansa’s heart, but before you left Winterfell, Sansa had pulled you aside, you had a little bit of hope but you had seen how she was all over your brother and was by his side every opportunity she could get.

You got your heartbroken by her, she was honest and you were thankful for that, but it hurt your heart. Sure, the two of you were still young, feelings can change like the wind and nothing is certain in the future. 

When you arrived home, you talked to your dad about it and for once, he got serious - talking about that even if you were rejected you should always try to pursue her. He then laughed it off saying Baratheon men don’t have much luck with Stark ladies, but you could see in the pain in his father’s eyes as he remembers Lyanna Stark. 

When your father died there were talks about who will inherit the throne, Cersei was quick on her game to get Joffery on the throne, you were livid. There was a screaming match between you and your mother in front of the small council before venomously bidding her hell. It was Varys, who started to tell you to leave because there were talks of your mother that she was going to hire people to kill you. 

You couldn’t risk that, so you took a route down to the deepest part of Kings landing, keeping yourself out of sight, picking up a stray sword that caught your eye.

That’s your story really.

Anyone back home would believe that you were killed or dead, and suffered in the rule of Joffery Baratheon. People called your the lost prince of hope, their last strand of hope.

Tyrion did not expect to see you alive and by Daenarys side when he entered Esso, running away with the potential of execution on his head. When he saw you, it had been a few years that had past, you were a lot different. 

Your hair was longer, you had grown more muscle mass, must of because you trained with Greyworm. You stood up straighter as if you had a purpose, but you looked happier. What your uncle did not expect was to look at the silver haired woman with such love.

It was a familiar look that he had seen, it was the same look you used to stare at Sansa with. But, to Tyrion’s surprised the look with returned. When you weren’t paying attention or was looking away, Daenerys would give you the same look of love. Tyrion asked Barristan, who laughs and nods.

“Those two? In love like any other teenagers!” He laughs, shaking his head, “They’re betrothed to each other, looking for the perfect time to marry. Daenerys has explicitly said that she wanted no one by her side when she becomes Queen, but learning Ser (Y/n) story, she realised that the two of them have the biggest claim to the throne, rightfully, and on the way, she fell in love with him as did he.”

“Of course,” Tyrion nodded, “I would have liked to see my nephew rule the seven kingdoms, at least he has the birthright unlike Joffery and his siblings.”

“Bastards?” Ser Barristan asked as Tyrion nodded, “Well, that explains the blond hair.”

“I know for the fact that (Y/n) would rule with a good heart, he was trained and he has compassion, he fought any manipulation and lies that were fed to him.”

“Yes,” the knight nods, “I wonder what the people of Westeros would think when they find out a Baratheon could ride a dragon.”

As months past, years past on, Tyrion watched his nephew enjoy his life fighting for what is rightfully his alongside his wife, who loves him as much as he did. There was no one better to rule the Realms other than two great leaders. Tyrion watched how Daenerys freed slaves and took control, Tyrion remembers how you were as a prince. 

“Was there someone you loved before me?” Daenerys asked once, it was on the sail back to Westeros, she could see how excited you were to return home.

You looked at her, “I did, once,” You say, remembering how Dany had disclosed her lovers to you before, “She was fiery, but unlikely you who is made of fire and blood, it was her striking red hair - her name was Sansa Stark.”

“Is she-?”

“My uncle has told me before he had fled that she was alive, but I have no idea where she is now or if she is alive. I’m sure she turned to be a fine young lady.”

Dany raised an eyebrow, “Do tell more.”

“Well, as you know I am of Lannister blood.”

“I am aware,” Dany says distastefully, cringing that you were of blood of the man who murdered her father and you were the son of the man who killed her brother.

“She was more in love with my brother, Joffery. Half-brother because I had my suspicion that he wasn’t of Baratheon blood. You could say he’s pure, like you.”

Dany nods, knowing what you mean, after all, she is in a long line of keeping her blood pure as her relatives were all related one way or another. She hates to think the fact if she were to marry her narcissistic brother, Viserys, whilst both of you acknowledge that you two were distantly related - it was a fact that she was willing to ignore. 

“He was a cunt,” You laughed whilst your wife giggles next to you in bed, “Spoilt and full of himself, I don’t want to imagine what his rule was like, but stories from my uncle it seems to appear as hell.”

“And she picked him over you?” Daenerys asked, raising an eyebrow, “Well, her loss, I think I have a great man before me. A true king.” 

You chuckle, smiling at her lovingly, kissing her forehead, “Shall we sleep, my love?”

“No,” She pouts as you can’t help but find it adorable, “I think you should tell me tales of Westeros, after all, it’s more of your home than it is of mine.”

You weren’t expecting to return to Winterfell, but, it demanded it’s independence, which you thought was outrageous - really. You were reunited with Jon, who greets you with a smile, a joke and good hug - it has been a while since you’ve seen your best friend, glad to see him alive.

You thought that you were going to take over Kings landing, but having to take a detour route to Winterfell to battle in a war of the undead. Although, you get to see your mother before going to the North.

You relish the sight to see her and your uncle Jaime astonished that you were alive and knowing you were going back to claim for the throne. Cersei did not miss how your eyes darken and the glimmer of your sword.

“Mother.”

“Son.”

It was the only interaction you had with her, she refused to come to talk to you, you weren’t surprised - you lacked a mother’s love as you grew up. But, Jaime tried his best to get you to talk to him. You shook off his advances before turning to Jon and Daenerys.

You were surprised to see Sansa, as she was with you. Arya had noticed how she was staring.

“You’re staring, do you have regrets?”

Sansa cleared her throat and stood up straight, “No, he’s just grown.”

“So, have you, perhaps you have a chance at wooing him,” Arya hums looking over to you, talking to Jon with Daenerys by your side, “I can’t deny that he is very handsome.”

You barely got to talk to Sansa when everyone was preparing to war, luckily that your group of people survived the war. But, Missandei was down in the tombs with Sansa and Tyrion where she had heard that Sansa was disrespecting your wife.

Missandei was going to tell her Queen, but rather think other when she sees you walking towards her with a smile - she knew that you were better to handle it. She saw how your jaw locked, no one was going to disrespect your wife.

“Thank you, Missandei, please be with Dany, I’ll sort her out.”

You went to Jon first, who was confused at his cousin after you and Dany told him that he was actually the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna. Jon had his whole heart to support you and Dany’s plan to rule the seven kingdoms, agreeing that despite Winterfell wanting independence, they would struggle.

Sansa was trying to find the right ways to talk to you, perhaps try and mend the relationship. But, when you were looking at her as you stride towards her - she thinks differently. 

Tyrion was in the room, trailing behind you as well as Varys. Jon followed closely behind whilst Arya looked confused, looking at her sister. 

“How dare you disrespect your Queen!” 

No greetings, no smile upon your face, fury on your expression and for once in her life, Sansa no longer recognise the sweet boy from many years ago.

“You should owe her your life after she came to rescue your home! She brought dragons and not once has she spoken about the clear disrespect that you and your people wore. She is not mad like her father at all.”

Tyrion, Varys, Jon and many other people could agree to that, Daenerys was nothing like her father and it was mostly because of you. You were her constant grounding, bringing her to reality and knowing that you will always be by her side. 

“She’s not my Queen!” Sansa snaps back, gritting her teeth, “I don’t think she should be if anything if someone was to take the throne it should be you! It’s been rightfully yours since your father died.”

“It is my throne,” You sneered as Sansa stops upon hearing your words, “You’re not only disrespecting your queen, you are disrespecting my wife.”

Wife.

Her hearts shatter, she wonders is that how you felt when she had rejected you. Your eyes were cold, your stance was stiff and the lost Valyrian sword matches it’s current owner - you. It reflected who you were, shiny and attractive, but can cut so deeply - it was hard to recover from it’s inflicted wounds.

“You shall never bad mouth the throne, you hear me?” You pressed on, your tone turning stern that she reluctantly nods, “Don’t test me, Stark.” 

With that, you turn on your heel and leave the room, leaving the occupants confused and somewhat terrified. 

“Well...” Arya breaks the silence, “Sansa?”

Her heart was broken, she thought this time she could find love. She was never Joffery’s, she refuses to be claimed by Ramsey and she lost Theon. But, she could not let a man ruin her thoughts, putting up a wall as she looks away from where you last were.

“I believe we all have a meeting on how we will accompany our King and Queen to the throne.”

She dreads to see you because she knows when she arrives - you will look at Daenerys with love and it’ll be returned. 

[tenebrius-excellium]

Zouxie’s Adventures in the Darklands AU

After Merlin has been put to sleep, moppet is...heartbroken. Everybody’s gone: His Master, Arthur, Morgana, Lancelot. Galahad is the last of the Knights and is busy keeping the castle running. He doesn’t have time for a fatherless little boy. 

Douxie is once more an orphan. All he’s got left is Archie and J.B. the horse. So he packs the rest of Merlin’s belongings and roams the streets in search for a quest. Wizardry is not outlawed anymore, but it’s not exactly favorably looked upon either. So he’s an outcast. 

Oh well, he promptly runs into Zoe at the market. She has come to town to offer her services to the magicians who fought at Killahead Bridge. She didn’t know there were still others besides her and the two official court wizards whom she couldn’t get close to, and now she wants to found an open magician’s society. 

She follows Douxie because he, being the only other wizard she knows, is her best lead. However, he’s about to leave town again. An argument ensues about staying or leaving in which they duel each other for the first time. They’re each kinda...really impressed and pissed off at the same time by the other’s magic. 

That’s where it sort of clicks for them that they really are the only ones alike. They stare at each other in astonishment. 

Then BOOM, a crack forms in the earth caused by Zouxie’s magic colliding. Since the Killahead Bridge had just been opened a few days ago, there’s still a small surge of magical energy in the air, and the wall between the realms is still thin. Archie falls into the hole and Douxie doesn’t hesitate to go after him. Zoe tries to prevent it, loses her balance, and they all tumble into the Darklands.

Archie has broken a wing and can’t fly. The trio struggles to hide from raging and ravaging Gumm Gumms. Gunmar kills them left and right in his frenzy. They finally find a secluded spot not unlike Jim’s and focus on survival. 

...a lot of time passes.

Archie’s wing has healed. Zouxie is a thing, but they’ve never dared to kiss yet. It’s just hugs and snuggles because they need each other so much. They have taught each other what little magic they knew and they’re sorta depressed and exhausted now because there just seems to be no way to get out of the Darklands...ever. As much as they’ve tried, they can’t find a portal spot where it would be possible to crack through the Darkland’s ceiling again. The layers between realms thicken the less they’re used, and it’s becoming too dangerous using so much magical energy in the land of Gunmar. 

They have managed to stay unseen to this point. But one day on the hunt for food they encounter a Nyarlagroth! Fighting and conquering it kindles their spirits and their will to survive anew and they share an epic kiss while the ‘Groth goes down in the background, explosions and screaming and all. 

Shortly after, they discover the changeling nursery. On the run from Goblins, they notice a shadow creature helping them and running alongside them. It’s...a boy, a changeling familiar who fell out of his crib and was raised by a colony of Batwolves (bat + wolf hybrid. They are the size of wolves and run as swift as them, but they hang from the ceiling and are able to glide like Flying Squirrels). In their den, Zouxie finds refuge, company, and better food. 

A few years go by. Douxie is 19 now and Zoe is 20. As an old and beloved Alpha batwolf dies, they realize that they are aging too, and vow that they will not die in the Darklands. They start drinking changeling milk regularly which prolongs their lifespan. However, the Goblins notice the thefts and alert Gunmar. From then on, Douxie, Zoe and the Batwolf boy constantly play cat-and-mouse with the Evil Underlord. Sometimes they’re captured (makes for great angst!) but they always make it out alright. 

They travel throughout the realm and find odd and wonderful things. The Darklands weren’t so bad before the Heartstone died. It used to be a really beautiful place! Douxie and Zoe improve their magic and try to create a device that can transcend realms. But they always seem to fail. 

One day the Batwolf boy (let’s call him Kip) confesses that he has a telepathic link to his changeling familiar. He didn’t tell them because it’s obvious that using it to find a way to open a portal from the other side would risk releasing Gunmar to the Surfacelands. Also, he kinda wanted them to stay. Once Kip’s changeling, however, discovers that the boy is in the company of two human younglings who want to go home, he uses that opportunity to get to Deya. He tells her about the lost heroes of the Battle of Killahead, trying to make her reopen Killahead Bridge for them. Naturally, his secret agenda is to set Gunmar free. 

Deya refuses, but cannot get the thought out of her head. At Vendel’s she sees a live stone from the Darklands and makes a Horngazel from it. She then tells Kip’s changeling to inform Kip about a specific location in the Darklands where she supposedly dropped the Horngazel for them. Kip tells Zouxie. Doux realizes that the message is coded since it includes details from Killahead battle.

They take their leave from Kip and the Batwolf den and head to the right location. They punch a hole into the Darkland realm and step out into the Surfacelands. Deya meets them there and pulls them out. However, Kip as well as his changeling have caught on to the deception and followed them. A battle begins, at the end of which Kip and his changeling switch places. Magical chaos ensues as the Batwolf boy sets foot on his homeland again: The changeling spell is broken in an already unstable rift caused by the Horngazel. A vortex forms and threatens to swallow them all. 

Zoe melts the Horngazel stone with her lightning and Douxie molds it into the octagonal shape of...the Fetch, therein containing the vortex. Deya hides the Fetch and welcomes Douxie, Zoe and Kip back into the surface world.

200 years have passed. Douxie and Zoe are pale, skinny, and have difficulties enduring bright lights. They have forgotten about earthly food, and proper manners, and real clothes instead of rags. All they remember is music, because that’s the one cultural thing they cared to preserve during their stay in the Darklands. It takes some time for them to accustom to the world again.

The first time they hear real music again, they both cry waterfalls.

They’ve got themselves and Archie. It brought the trio so close together that even a season of serious arguments, possibly even breakup between Douxie and Zoe cannot eliminate what they shared. They get back together soon. 

Kip realizes that they’re all aging now that the changeling milk is no longer available. Zouxie eventually finds Galahad and the flying Camelot and they drink from the Holy Grail or something. But when they offer it to Kip, he declines. He lives out a peaceful life in the 17th century. When he dies, Zouxie mourns a great friend. 

They never speak much about the Darklands. They don’t have to. Whatever else it did to them, it gave them their relationship, and they’re gonna treasure that. 

Also, it wasn’t all bad to live among Batwolves :)

When motorcycles are invented, Douxie gets one as a reminder of them :)

THE END

[a-blue-secret]

CHAPTER XXVI

BACK TO MASTERLIST

Chapter XXV | Chapter XXVI | Chapter XXVII

GENRES: royal au; fantasy au; magic au; friends-to-enemies-to-lovers; king!beomgyu, vizier!taehyun

PAIRING: taegyu

WARNINGS: swearing

WORD COUNT: 4.5k+

AN: Another update this week! Don't fret, I have yet another one to give out very soon :)

SUMMARY: Best friends turned enemies, Kang Taehyun has managed to trick Choi Beomgyu into his service, and to rule for a year and a day, until his youngest brother would be old enough to take the throne. Choi Beomgyu has no intention of being obedient however, and tries to thwart Taehyun’s orders at every turn. With a growing amount of distrust and lies within the court, will Taehyun manage to keep the kingdom of Gojongja from falling apart?

Heeseung tugged at his ear uneasily. “Do you think we should let him do that?”

Jungwon shrugged, but bit his lip. “He told us not to disturb him, so we have to let him.”

Heeseung sighed. “He knows he looks crazy doing that, right?”

“Of course he does. But both you and I know how in love he was with Beomgyu. Love makes people do crazy things.”

They both winced as Taehyun tripped over, disappearing from their line of sight for a moment, before immediately popping back up again.

“But I do feel sorry for him,” Jungwon sighed. “I can’t imagine how devastating it must be for him.”

A broken, heart-wrenching wail ripped through the silence of the fields again, and the two guards sighed, staring out at the greenery.

Heeseung spoke up again. "He just looks so… helpless. It breaks my heart to see him like that.”

Jungwon rubbed his nose, staring sadly at the heartbroken figure of the vizier in the distance. “You and me both.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

“Beomgyu!” he yelled, voice cracking with desperation. “Beomgyu, please, come back!”

Taehyun fell to his knees, hands over his mouth as tears streamed down his cheeks. He was crying loudly, his grief evident in every sound that came out of him.

“Beomgyu!” he cried out again. “Beomgyu!”

After the talk with Soobin, something in Taehyun had snapped. He lost all sense of reason. Soobin had left Taehyun there, outside the forest, and once the Lord had left the fields he'd gotten to his feet and screamed at the woods, hot tears falling down his cheeks. That was how his guards had found him the next morning, as the early morning dew hung in the air. When Heeseung and Jungwon had tried to drag him away, he’d shaken them off, continuing to sob and scream uncontrollably into the woods.

"Leave me!" Taehyun had sobbed. "Leave me alone!" He pushed them away, crying so hard that he had to lean against one of the rocks dotting the field. “Beomgyu! Come back!”

Reluctantly, his guards had had to leave the vizier alone, retreating so that they were still within reach if something bad happened.

Another wave of tears engulfed Taehyun and he doubled over, clutching at his chest as if his heart was in pain. Why had everything gone wrong? Beomgyu was meant to be saved. This wasn’t meant to happen.

Taehyun wiped his eyes, breathing shakily. “Beomgyu!” he cried again. His breathing hiccuped, and he dropped down onto his hands.

And then he screamed. A loud, cracked, broken scream, filled with raw anger and hurt and sadness, echoing throughout the palace fields. He didn’t care that people could hear him. He didn’t care if people thought he’d gone mad. Maybe he had. But all he knew was that Beomgyu had gone, and he was hurting.

He screamed and screamed, until his voice hurt and he couldn’t scream anymore. Even then, he sobbed and whispered in a hoarse voice, begging Beomgyu to come back to him.

But it was at that point that Heeseung and Jungwon came up to him and dragged him away. Alerted by the scream, they quickly came up to Taehyun and dragged him away from the forest, the vizier limp between them. He didn't put up much of a fight. He was too hurt to struggle.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Despite the advisings from both of his guards, Taehyun would go back to the forests every day to scream and beg Beomgyu to come back to him. He'd lost all sense. He'd even neglected his duties, something that Taehyun had never done before. For once, he didn’t care about his responsibilities. Even his reputation didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered to him was the fact that Beomgyu was gone.

Each day, Taehyun would scream and sob and yell for Beomgyu to come back to him, but the forests would remain as dark and silent as ever.

“Beomgyu! Beomgyu!”

The large rock by the edge of the forest was becoming a familiar object to Taehyun, with it constantly being what he used to anchor himself to reality. The pain of his fingers crushing themselves against the hardness of the rock was the only thing grounding him to the real world.

“Beomgyu, please, come back to me!”

Sometimes he’d scream sentences. He’d beg Beomgyu to come back to him, to talk to him, to do anything to show that he was still there. He’d come up with different phrases to say, hoping that Beomgyu would hear him and recognise his voice.

Taehyun collapsed against the rock, fingers clenched tight. “Beomgyu! Beomgyu!”

Other times, he’d just call out his name, over and over again. Like a mantra. Like a spell. Like it was some sort of holy, magical word which could somehow bring his Beomgyu back to him.

His voice cracked, and he had to stop, throat hoarse with how much he’d been screaming. “Beomgyu…”

But when his voice gave up on him and his body grew too weak to hold the heaviness of his heart, he fell to his knees and just cried, whispering his love’s name repeatedly, to try and give himself some comfort.

The feeling of tears dampening his cheeks, a sensation that had once been unfamiliar to Taehyun, was now becoming so common that he barely even felt them streaming down his face. Beomgyu made him feel these strong emotions. Beomgyu made him cry hard; Beomgyu made him laugh hard. And he missed that feeling of happiness– that delightful, soaring happiness that he felt when he was around Beomgyu. Taehyun just missed Beomgyu.

He was hyperventilating now, breaths coming out short and panicky. He brought his knees up to his chest, curling himself into a tight ball as he rocked back and forth, sobs wracking his body.

Beomgyu… he needed Beomgyu. Without him, he was lost. He needed Beomgyu. His light. His sunshine. The world was darkening, fast losing its warmth. He needed Beomgyu.

Taehyun gave a shuddering gasp, and lifted his head from his knees. And then, he gave another scream, voice cracking with the pure pain he was feeling. He screamed and screamed, not even registering the sounds he was making. He was just in pain. He was hurting so badly that nothing even made sense to him anymore. With every broken note, he felt himself slipping away, losing his grip on reality, slowly giving way to insanity, but then–

A soft hand touched his shoulder, and Taehyun stopped abruptly, giving a shuddering gasp.

“Oh, Taehyun, don’t cry. Butterfly is here now.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Deep within the forest, the beast pricked its ears up at the sound. It furrowed its brows, purple eyes glinting.

That voice… that scream…

Beomgyu gave a gasp, warmth flooding his violet irises.

Taehyun… That was his Taehyun. His beautiful Taehyun. Taehyun was in pain. He needed to help Taehyun.

But then the scream suddenly cut off, and his eyes darkened, the beast giving a growl. It snarled, shaking its dark fur, before leaping away, deeper into the forest.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Taehyun looked up, and two warm, wide eyes stared back at him, smiling with a dimple so much like his own.

“Nabi!” His face crumpled, and he dissolved into fresh tears. Nabi cooed gently, drawing Taehyun against her side. He curled himself up small, crying into his elder sister’s comforting embrace. It was his butterfly. His butterfly sister had come back.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered.

“We came as fast as we could,” Nabi said softly, rubbing his back. “Shh… it’s alright. We’re here now.”

He continued to cry, shoulders shaking. Then another arm gently embraced him, and he heard his other sister’s soft voice.

“Oh, flower, it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

At that, Taehyun cried harder, hiccuping out his sister’s name. “Seohyun?”

Seohyun and Nabi both hugged him.

“We’re here, Taehyun. We’re here,” Seohyun said, smoothing Taehyun’s rumpled hair in the way that always calmed him down. He cried harder, the warmth of a hug something that he hadn't felt for what seemed like forever.

Taehyun cried for a while longer, until his breathing evened out and his tears had been delicately brushed away by his elder sisters. When he looked up, he saw his eldest brother crouched down in front of him, a lopsided smile on his face.

“Long time no see, Taehyun,” Jiwon said, reaching forward to ruffle his hair.

Taehyun gave a watery smile, disentangling himself from his elder sisters’ embrace to hug Jiwon. Jiwon gave a laugh, hugging him back.

“I missed you, Jiwon.”

Jiwon pulled away, ruffling Taehyun’s hair again. “Missed you too, little bro.” He smiled again. “Junghoon missed you as well.”

Junghoon, the youngest Kang, was fidgeting next to Jiwon and when Taehyun looked at him he lurched forward straight into the vizier’s arms.

“Taehyun! I missed you!”

Taehyun smiled even as his eyes blurred with tears again, burying his face into Junghoon’s hair. He held the youngest in his arms, rocking them back and forth. “Missed you too, Junghoon.”

When his eyes had ceased their watering, he looked up at his elder siblings, arms still around the youngest Kang. He gazed at them all with puffy eyes, but even despite their swollenness the astonishment was clear in them.

“You… you’re here? You all came?” He felt his lower lip tremble, but tried very hard to keep the tears in. “I missed you so much, all of you… But… why are you here? I searched for you for so long, but I couldn’t find you…”

“We came back because we heard that our little Taehyun was busy being an emotional wreck in Gojongja, and we wanted to help you before you went crazy,” Jiwon said, a slight teasing tone in his voice as he leaned forward to wiped away the liquid which was yet again filling Taehyun’s eyes. “We’ve been staying in the Barumin Kingdom this whole time.” He reached into his pocket and handed Taehyun a handkerchief. “Here, dry your eyes.”

Taehyun took the cloth, dabbing away the tears. Once they were all gone, and his breathing became normal again, he gave a watery chuckle. “Despite the rebellious image you used to give off, you’re still the same softie inside, Jiwon.”

Jiwon gave a smile, pinching Taehyun’s cheek. “You brat,” he said affectionately. “I see you’re still the same annoying little brother.”

Taehyun laughed, and ruffled Junghoon’s hair. “But you’re still as cute as ever, aren’t you?” he cooed, and the youngest Kang giggled as Taehyun tickled him.

“Ahh! It tickles!” Junghoon managed to escape Taehyun’s grasp, running to the safety of Nabi’s arms.

Seohyun smiled. “We’ve missed Gojongja so much. When we heard what happened, we had to come back at once.”

Taehyun’s eyes widened. “How did you know what was going on in Gojongja?”

“Lady Yeji is a friend of ours,” Nabi said. “Her brother is a friend of your friend, I believe? Anyway, your friend told Yeji’s brother and she told us. We came as fast as we could.”

“What was the friend’s name?” Seohyun mused, trying to remember. “Choi something. Choi Yeonjun?”

Taehyun nodded. “Yeonjun’s my friend,” he said. “I know Hyunjin, too. And Yeji.”

“Speaking of Hyunjin and Yeji, they’re coming this way,” Jiwon said, talking over Junghoon’s chants of “Yeji! Yeji!”

Taehyun turned his head to the direction Jiwon was looking, and saw a young woman and a young man approaching them, both with the same unique eyes and facial structure. Even though he’d never seen either of them before in his life, he knew who they were. They drew closer, and the vizier stood up, walking over to meet them. The Lord and the vizier stared at each other for a long moment. Eventually, Hyunjin extended his hand.

“Lord Hyunjin,” the Lord introduced in a cool voice.

Taehyun shook his hand, face similarly expressionless (save for the slight red ring around his eyes). “Grand Vizier Taehyun.”

Hyunjin nodded. “Nice to meet you, Sir Taehyun.”

“Likewise, Lord Hyunjin.”

They stared at each other, stock still, before they both burst out laughing. Hyunjin sat down on the grass, grinning at Taehyun. “God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to meet you. Yeonjun and Hyuka talk about you so much, so it feels like I know you already, but it’s nice to actually meet this Kang Taehyun that I always hear about.”

“Same here,” Taehyun said, smiling. “They talk about you so much as well, but it’s nice to physically talk in person.”

Hyunjin smiled wider. Yeji came to sit down next to them, a similarly wide smile on her face.

“Nice to meet you, Taehyun,” she said. “These Kangs won’t ever stop talking about you.”

Taehyun gave a laugh. “Good to hear that they miss me, as they rightly should,” he said, a teasing tone coming into his voice. He felt light. Even though less than two hours ago, he’d been on his knees crying his eyes out, he felt impossibly happy. It felt comforting to be in the presence of so many people. He felt like he wasn’t alone. And for the first time since Beomgyu had turned, he felt a glimmer of hope.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

For the first time, Taehyun was able to think about something other than the beast in his forest. He was able to talk about normal things, the insignificant things, the trivial things. He was able to talk about the anecdotes he’d overheard from the servants. He was able to talk about the experiences he’d had as a vizier. He was able to talk about silly things, which he hadn’t been able to talk about before.

Best of all, he was able to talk with people he loved.

“And then she said–” Seohyun laughed, tears in her eyes, “–and then she said, ‘Orange does not suit your complexion!’”

Everyone burst out laughing.

“But wasn’t that the assignment?” Nabi gasped out, face stretched into a laugh.

“It wasn’t!” Seohyun laughed. “I misheard her!”

Laughter filled their group again.

“So I’m there, in my ridiculous orange dress, while everyone’s wearing these complimentary colours! God, I looked like an orange!”

They all burst out laughing at the imagery.

“Oh, dear,” Jiwon chuckled, holding his sides. “Why do I have such ridiculous younger siblings?”

“It’s ridiculous, for sure, but you should hear the things that Yeji’s done in her life,” Hyunjin said, and laughed when Yeji jokingly punched his arm. “She was probably even more idiotic.”

“Don’t you dare tell them,” Yeji warned, eyes twinkling with laughter.

“Oh, tell us!” Taehyun said. “What has Yeji done?”

“Shush, otherwise I’m taking back all that crystal I let you take from Barumin!”

Taehyun laughed, and Yeji grinned.

“You look so pretty when you smile, Taehyun,” she said. “Yeonjun told me that you didn’t use to smile a lot.”

“I smile around people I feel comfortable with,” Taehyun said. “I became comfortable around Yeonjun, so he saw me smile more.”

Yeji awwed. “That’s actually so cute! So you only smile around people you like?”

“Basically, yeah.”

Jiwon nodded thoughtfully. “That’s why you smiled more with Junghoon than with me.” He narrowed his eyes playfully. “I see how it is.”

“No, no! I never!” Taehyun defended, laughing. “I like you too, Jiwon!”

The eldest Kang laughed, ruffling Taehyun’s hair. “God, you’re too adorable for me to get mad at.”

Taehyun shook his hair, smiling. He lay back down in the grass, spreading his arms out. Hyunjin lay down next to him, staring up at the clouds.

“Speaking of Yeonjun, though,” Hyunjin said. “Where is he? He brought us here, but then just disappeared. I wonder where he’s gone.”

“If you’re talking about me, then I’m right here.”

Taehyun sat up at the familiar voice, and saw Yeonjun walking up to them. He grinned as Yeonjun came to sit down in their small circle in the field. Before anyone could say anything, however, Junghoon, who was playing in the grass, gave a delighted giggle and ran over to Yeonjun.

“Yeonjun!”

Yeonjun looked around and smiled at the youngest Kang who came running up to him. “Hey, Junghoon! How you doing buddy?” He ruffled Junghoon’s hair, the younger laughing happily.

“Do the trick!” Junghoon said, clapping his hands excitedly. “Do the trick!”

“Hmm, should I?” Yeonjun said playfully, and when the eight year-old started laughing louder, he smiled wider, and picked up a rock from the field. He held it in his open palm, before it slowly lifted in the air so that it was floating. Junghoon stared at the rock, eyes wide. Yeonjun then made the rock whiz about, and the youngest Kang laughed, chasing it around the field.

Yeonjun watched him, a smile on his face. “Oh, children. They’re adorable.”

Everyone was watching the cute exchange, and when Yeonjun turned back to the circle, Nabi leaned forward.

“You’re really good with children, Yeonjun. Junghoon doesn’t normally talk to people he barely knows.”

Yeonjun shrugged, smiling. “I have a younger brother. He’s only a few years younger than me but he’s so child-like that I kind of learned how to deal with kids. Back in Aruyeo I also taught children dancing and yoga.”

Jiwon tilted his head, curious. “What was your job? Like, who were you in court?”

Hyunjin, Taehyun and Yeji all looked at each other, but Yeonjun replied simply, the words rolling off his tongue.

“I’m an ambassador of Aruyeonan court. But I also did some extra work in schools and stuff as well.”

Seohyun nodded thoughtfully. “That must make you good with children then.”

“Yep,” Yeonjun said. “But anyway, there’s something I need to talk to you about, Taehyun.”

“Oh? What’s up?” Taehyun asked.

“You know how I brought your family here from Barumin, right?” Yeonjun started.

Taehyun nodded. “Oh yeah, you did. Why? Like, I appreciate it, but why?”

“I thought you might need a little bit of moral support, to stop you from going insane,” Yeonjun said, a slight joking tone to his voice.

Taehyun smiled, and tilted his head. “But about you? Why did my family have to come? Are you not going to be here or something?”

Yeonjun’s smile wavered, and the rock Junghoon was chasing suddenly dropped to the floor. That was when Taehyun noticed Yeonjun was wearing his heavy overcoat and had his tall riding boots on, cowboy hat on his head. Taehyun felt the corners of his smile turn sad.

“You’re going away.”

Yeonjun nodded apologetically. “Yeah. Kai and I have something to do. One last mission.”

The Kangs looked at each other, confused about what mission Yeonjun was talking about. But Hyunjin and Yeji seemed to know, and their faces grew solemn.

“There’s not going to be any stopping you, is there?” Hyunjin said.

“I’m afraid not,” Yeonjun said. “We’re doing this out of duty. Besides, it’ll only be for a short while.” He turned to Taehyun, and ruffled his hair affectionately. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

With that, he stood up, brushing grass from his trousers. Taehyun stood up too.

“Uh, Yeonjun…” he hesitated, thinking of different ways to say it. Eventually, he spread his arms and hugged Yeonjun. “Don’t die,” he said.

Yeonjun gave a smile, hugging Taehyun back. “I promise I won’t.”

Taehyun smiled, releasing him, and Yeonjun began to retreat the way he came. As Taehyun watched, he realised that Hueningkai was also standing there, in the distance, next to an Aruyeonan carriage. He waved at Hueningkai, and smiled as the younger spy waved back. When the Aruyeonans boarded the carriage and it slowly disappeared from his sight, he sat back down again.

“Where’s Yeonjun going?” Seyeon asked curiously. “What mission is he talking about?”

“Confidential, I’m afraid,” Hyunjin said. “We’ll all find out about it when he gets back.”

“Taehyun, are you okay?” Nabi asked worriedly. The smile had died from Taehyun’s face, and he was scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine.” He looked at the forest, and almost winced at its dark expanse of trees, which was steadily getting darker in the fading light. “Come on, everyone. Let’s get into the palace. Hyunjin and Yeji, I’ll find you guys rooms.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Later that night, when the Kangs and the Hwangs had fully settled into the palace, Taehyun wandered through the gardens until he found Soobin.

“I knew you’d be here,” he said, and the Lord turned around and gave a smile, violet eyes glowing. Taehyun flinched, momentarily being reminded of the beast’s violet eyes.

“Why aren’t you wearing contacts?” he asked.

“It’s the middle of the night. I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone,” Soobin said. He turned back to the flowers he’d been looking at. “Purple anemones are beautiful, aren’t they? They symbolise the death of a loved one.” He stroked the petals, smiling. “That seems to describe your situation quite nicely, doesn’t it?”

Taehyun sucked in a breath, but didn’t speak. Eventually, Soobin looked up at him, dropping the anemone.

“Is there something you needed, Taehyun?”

Taehyun took a deep breath, preparing himself for the words he was about to say. “Please, Soobin,” he started.

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “Oh my, we’re using our manners now? Someone must be getting desperate.”

Taehyun gritted his teeth, but didn’t say anything. “Please, Soobin,” he said again. “Tell me the cure. Please. I’ll do anything at all.”

The Lord, who had dropped his gaze to the flowers again, looked up at that. “Anything?” he mused. “Anything at all?”

Taehyun hesitated. “Well, not in a literal sense. Like, anything within reason. I can’t really give you anything, because–”

But Soobin cut him off, shaking his head. “If it’s not anything, then I won’t tell you. Sorry vizier, but you’re on your own.”

“Wait!” Taehyun called out as the Lord began to walk away. “What is it that you want? I’ll let you have it. I’ll… I’ll renounce your banishment. You won’t be exiled from Gojongja anymore. Just… tell me the cure.”

If this had been the Taehyun from a year ago – or even the Taehyun from a few months ago – he would have been ashamed of how desperate he sounded. But the current Taehyun didn’t care. He just wanted Beomgyu back.

Soobin stopped. He turned around, a smile on his face. “Now that’s a tempting offer,” he said.

“Right? I’ll even make sure that you won’t be imprisoned for this whole curse thing. Just tell me the cure, please–”

“But I’m not going to take it.” Soobin bowed, violet eyes sparkling maliciously, before walking away.

“What? Wait, Soobin, come back! Please!”

Taehyun ran after Soobin, grabbing his arm. “Give me a hint, at least,” he begged. “Please?”

Soobin gave a sigh. “I told you, there’s no cure.”

“But it’s a transformation curse, right? Those ones always have some sort of cure, right?”

Soobin shook his head. “No, no. This curse, though it looks like a transformation curse, is more of an insanity one. And an extremely powerful one at that."

Taehyun frowned. “Wait, what?”

Soobin pursed his lips, thinking. “Do you want me to tell you what it entails?”

Taehyun hesitated. “Are you actually giving me a choice to hear it?”

“Hearing the effects might drive you crazy,” Soobin stated simply. “I saw what these past few days have done to you. I don’t want you going insane too quickly, otherwise you won’t be here to order Beomgyu’s death.”

Taehyun scowled. “I’m not mentally weak,” he said. “I can take it.”

Soobin shrugged. “Very well. Here goes. "First Beomgyu will lose his memories. He's basically having his brain rewired, his memory wiped. It’s a lengthy process, around two to three weeks.”

Soobin had only spoken three sentences, but Taehyun was already going pale. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so defiant. The Lord noticed his change in expression, and gave a small smirk.

“Don’t worry, dear vizier, because it gets worse. Once all of his memories have been wiped, he'll lose his sense of humane ability. He'll forget he's human, and will just become rabid and crazy, like the beast he's transformed into. Only one person managed to survive to that stage. Most cases were killed early on. The public always urge for it to be killed quite quickly."

Taehyun took a shaky breath in. His eyes looked glassy. Soobin smiled wider, giving a condescending sigh.

“I knew you were too sensitive to handle it. Though you look like you’re made of stone, your heart is moulded from fragile glass.” Soobin took a step closer, and Taehyun, startled, took a step back. “Just know that I hold the upper hand here, Taehyun,” he said in a low voice. “I’m not your friend. I won’t help you. I’ll watch and laugh as your little world burns down, and I’ll do nothing, nothing at all.”

Taehyun flinched at the soft words, and Soobin gave a small laugh.

“Look at you, so terrified already. What’s wrong, little vizier? Are you scared?”

Taehyun lowered his head, shoulders shaking.

“Come on, answer me Taehyun. Is the little boy scared?”

Slowly, Taehyun looked up. When he lifted his eyes, there were no tears welling inside them, nor were his irises tinged with fear. Instead there was a fierce fire within his eyes, and his body shook with the force of his rage. He straightened his shoulders, tilting his head up defiantly to talk to Soobin.

“Do you really think I’m scared of you?” he scoffed. “Please. I was terrified for Beomgyu. I was never terrified of you. I’ve dealt with enough assholes in court. I’m not scared of you, Choi Soobin.”

He stepped forward, closer towards the Lord, and grabbed his collar to bring him down to his level.

“I think I’ve had enough of you trying to scare me,” he said. “I think I’m not going to bother with your threats. I think I’m over your stupid little games. I’m not going to stand for them anymore.”

He tugged at Soobin’s collar again, glowering.

“I don’t care if you say there’s no cure,” Taehyun spat. “If there isn’t, then fine. I’ll fucking make one.”

Soobin looked momentarily confused by Taehyun’s sudden change in mood, but took it in stride, smirking at the vizier even while his collar was being held tight.

“By all means, feel free to try,” Soobin said. “You’re doomed anyway.”

Taehyun snarled, releasing Soobin. “No I’m not,” he said firmly. “Fine, you tried to take away Beomgyu from me. Fine. But I have other people, people who, like me, will do anything to get Beomgyu back. And we will, you know. We’ll get him back.” Taehyun clenched his fists at his sides. “So you know what? Be as fucking evasive as you like. I don’t give a shit anymore. If you say you don’t know the cure, then I don’t care. If you say we’re doomed, I also don’t care. Hell, even if you say that I’ll be the one ordering Beomgyu’s death, I don’t fucking care. Because it won’t happen. Beomgyu won’t die. We’ll make a cure. We won’t be doomed. And you will pay for what you’ve done.”

Without waiting for Soobin to say anything, Taehyun turned on his heel and stormed away, a new sort of passion in his eyes.

There are five stages of grief, they say. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Taehyun had gone through the denial stage, but now he was making sure to remove himself from the downward spiral of grief. He was going to get Beomgyu back. No matter how helpless the situation seemed, he was going to bring his Beomgyu back.

taglist: @my-moarmy-heart​ @arohabangtan​ @a-fragmented-world​

[ollieoxenfree29]

Champagne.

***GIF CREDS TO @vissketches*** 

Fandom: Detroit Become Human/sight In The Heights Paring: Deviant!Connor (RK800) x Gender Neutral!Reader Requested: No Warnings: Drinking, and maybe four swears. (I say fuck a lot, oops) Word count: 1,112

Author’s note: Based on the song “Champagne” from the musical “In The Heights” written by Lin-Manuel Miranda. (FOR THOSE WHO KNOW THE MUSICAL/SONG:) What I planned on doing was starting the reader as Usnavi and Connor as Vanessa, but then they switch after Vanessa (Connor) sings (says) “Tonight, we’re drinking straight from the bottle.”  Also** Sonny is the reader’s brother and Benny is the Reader’s best friend. Does this make sense? I hope so.

(YOUR POINT OF VIEW)

Ugh. I hate closing the shop. I could be in bed right now, with my cat, curled up in blankets. But no! I have to be too nice! No! I had to tell Sonny that he could leave early and get ready for his date tonight with Pete. Now that I’m thinking about it, I haven’t seen Hank or even Connor all day. Hank normally comes in for a beer, and him and Benny try their damnedest to get Connor and I together. Given the fact that Benny also looks up to Hank as a father figure, I’m not surprised that Hank and him have teamed up well to pair Connor and I. Sure, I like the guy, and I want to be with him to help him with his newfound deviancy.

That’s another thing. Connor is leaving and I can’t do anything about it. He’s heading to Puerto Rico for a job offer. When Hank told me the news, I cried. Hank cried. I helped Hank that night. That stupid android with his ugly, perfect brown hair, his chocolate eyes, and his idiotic face. I love it. I… I love him, and Hank and Benny know it. Honestly, I just want what is best for him. Anyway. Sonny left, and I was just about to close up the store when I heard the door open and the little bell.

“Good evening (Name)! So… I got you a present. I went downtown to get it. Are you doing anything tonight?” I heard Connor’s voice as if it was sweet beautiful music to my ears.

“Oh, hello Connor. I’m just cleaning up here. Sonny is out on a date night with Grifi- i mean Pe-” I got cut off by Connor.

“You are done for the day. You always work so hard all the time. You need to take a break.” He pleaded.

“No way. I would have Sonny help, but he’s only 15. He needs to just be a kid. Y’know I have to be the more responsib-” I started.

“Because we have a date.” He interjected.

“Okay!” I immediately responded.

“Before I board that plane,” He brought out a bottle from his bag. “I owe you a bottle of cold champagne.”  

“Noooo.” Connor handed me the bottle. “Damn, the bottle’s all sweaty and everything. You went all the way downtown to get this?” I asked, astonished.

“I did. Why don’t you pop that cork?”

“I don’t know where we have the coffee cups or the plastic cups, I think Sonny moved the cups.” I started to panic.

Connor grabbed the bottle from my hands and set it on the table. “Tonight, we’re drinking straight from the bottle.”

“(Name), Hank told me what you did for me, and it’s honestly the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. What can I say or do to possibly repay you for your kindness?” Connor wondered, as I picked up the bottle and tried to open it, feeling my emotions getting the best of me.

I looked at him. “How do you get this gold shit off?”

I hear him snicker at my attempts to get the stupid film off.

“(Name), Before I leave town; before the street changes and all the signs are changed around, let’s walk around the neighborhood and then we’ll say goodbye.” Connor said, as he turned to see me crying, with a pair of scissors gnawing at the top of the bottle. “(Name), are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m just trying to open this champagne! You see, the twisty thing is broken, but I’m going to open this DAMN BOTTLE!” I yell.

“Let me see, I’ll get it.” Connor responded, taking the wet bottle out of my hand.

“CONNOR JUST LEAVE THE FUCKING CHAMPAGNE!” I exclaim, feeling pissed and tired. I look at him only to see a heartbroken face. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a long day.” After a moment of silence, I mumble, “You should really stay…”

“What did you say?” Connor asked.

“I could really use you around this place.” I continue, ignoring him. “And Sonny could use a role model.”

“(Name), what is this all about?” Connor pleaded.

“I’m just saying that your vacation can wait.” I spat at him, tears threatening to escape my eyes.

“Vacation? (Name), this is an amazing job offer that I just can’t pass u-”

“YOU’RE LEAVING THE COUNTRY, AND WE’RE NEVER GOING TO SEE YOU AGAIN” I interrupted him.

“Of course you’ll see me again! I’ll be home for holidays, and I get summers off!” He tried to explain.

“You just waltz into everyone’s lives, THEN OFF YOU GO!?” I scream, wiping tears away.

“(Name), I don’t understand why you’re so mad at me.

“I WISH I WAS FUCKING MAD. THAT WOULD MAKE THIS SO GODDAMN EASIER!” I shout, trying to get to the door. With each step, Connor blocks me. As I go to push him out of the way, with one swift movement, Connor has me pinned to the closed door; kissing me passionately.

“(Name), I had no idea you felt this strongly.” Connor softly grabbed my chin, lifting my head up to meet him eye to eye.

“Of course I do! Connor. From the moment you came in with Hank, my life was changed forever. You are the reason this store is still open. You are the reason Sonny and I still live here. Connor, I love you.” I confessed, smiling.

“Oh (Name), You REALLY love me?” Connor fidgeted.

“Yes! I guess that doesn’t change anything. So... I should let you go.” I say, getting out of his grap.

“SURPRISE!!!!!!”

Out of nowhere, Hank, Benny, Sonny, and Pete jump out from behind us. I scream and jump into Connor, hugging up to him for dear life.

“So did you guys finally confess your love for each other?!” Benny asked.

“Did Connor tell you that the whole, “I’m leaving for Puerto Rico!” thing was just a plan for you to confess your love?! It’s pretty fucking funny, if you ask me.” Hank pondered, laughing. Looking up at me, his face drops. “Oh... He didn’t tell you yet..

“... You mean to tell me that this was all just a sick set up for you idiots to get Connor and I together?” I said, blood starting to boil.

“Mayyyyyybeeeee... Are you mad?” They all responded.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “ No. You guys are morons.” I turn to Connor. “So, you’re not leaving?”

He smiled at me. “Nope.” He laughed, popping the ‘p’.

I smirked. “Good. EVERYONE OUT. I was promised a date.” I bellowed, ushering everyone but Connor out and locking the door. “Now, let’s have some fun.”

[jj-ktae]

All I want for Christmas is : A Picture with Santa [Mark]

Pairing : Mark x Fem!Reader Words : 3326 Genre : Fluff, Romance, 

Summary : Mark is the Market’s Santa Claus and it’s in the middle of endless pictures with kids that he ends up finding the one person he longed for all his life. 

[All I Want For Christmas: is a GOT7 collab]

All I want for Christmas is : A picture with Santa 

“Are you going to give me the present I asked for, Santa?”

“I was so nice to mommy, please tell me I’ll get presents!”

“Did you receive my letter?”

Kids are cute. They ask for the weirdest things but still, their eyes shine with the brightest hope of a great present as they stop in front of a not so well disguised Mark.

And all he can do is nod, his voice not as convincing as he’d like it to be as he promises the kids they will get what they asked for.

Some parents look done with their kids, others play along, whispering soft thanking words because obviously, that did the trick.

Mark still doesn’t understand how anyone can believe he is the real Santa Claus but then again, kids are gullible.

When the line dies, he groans, stretching his sore limbs because he is way too thin to carry kids all day long on his lap.

Who knew they could be so heavy.

“How about you get something to drink, Santa.” The voice pulls him out of his stretching session as he lifts a tired hand to grab the little cup of hot chocolate.

“Thanks, I don’t know if I can’t feel my legs because of the kids or the cold.” Mark sighs, his face hidden behind a huge white beard and head under a deep red hood. “It’s the last time I’m helping the parents.”

His sister giggles, head shaking before shrugging. “Think about the kids.”

Mark snorts. “They just want the presents. I’m merely used as a bait so their parents can threaten them. That little girl earlier was crying and begging me to forgive her because she cut her dolls’ hair and her parents told her I wouldn’t give her the presents she wants.”

How cruel.

“That’s how it is. Without Santa I wouldn’t have any reason for my kids to be good. Think about the community, Mark.” She mocks, her laugh dying when another round of kids rush toward a drinking Mark who almost stains his beard with the hot beverage.

She zips her mouth and escapes before Mark can complain some more and he barely has the time to take another sip before one of them grabs his hand and pulls on it.

“Santa!” The little boy yells into his ear before blinking cutely. “I love you sooooo much!”

Mark laughs, his Ho Ho Ho not even close to sound like what the real Santa would say.

It goes on for two hours. Two hours of smiling for proud parents, hug tiny human beings and deal with crying kids because yes, some of them fear Santa.

Mark couldn’t agree more. He looks disgusting.

The market is full of life and oh how he envies the others because at least they don’t have to wear that old smelly outfit.

He sighs between each picture, the fake presents too shiny and his Christmas throne not as comfortable as it’s supposed to be.

What a long day.

But as he puts the last kid down and bows to their parents, he finds a cute little girl.

She is smiling.

“Hello Santa!” Her hands are folded in front of her long fluffy coat. Her ears are hidden behind huge earmuffs and her big eyes stare at him with such intensity.

She is way too calm.

“Hi little girl.” Mark kneels, his back cracking in the process. “Do you want to take a picture with Santa?” he says, his mouth partly hidden by his gloved hand like it’s a big secret.

She shakes her head, her dark hair moving along as her smile widens. “I have a request.”

Mark stops, head now tilted to the side. Why is this girl alone?

When she doesn’t hear a response, she continues. “I do not wish for a present because I have plenty of toys at home, but there is something I wish you’d do for me.”

Wait, why does she sound so clever? How old is she?

Mark looks up, scanning the area in case someone would play yet another joke on him. Might as well be Jackson who paid a kid to make fun of him.

“I wish for mommy to be happy. Can you do that for me?”

Mark freezes, the probability of a kid asking for such an improbable thing too much to handle.

“I could try, but-”

“Nicole!” The kid yelps, her hand now on her mouth as she appears to be caught red-handed by a woman who stops behind her. “I told you to stay next to me, you scared me!”

You can’t believe she escaped. A minute earlier you were paying for her candies and as you were about to give it to her she was gone – not far- but still, she had left.

The little girl turns around, apologising and explaining that she saw Santa and had something to ask.

You grab her hand softly, more relieved than angry as your face finds its initial colour back. Nicole looks at you before her hand points toward a big red man.

He doesn’t look like Santa at all.

“I’m sorry….Santa. Nicole can be cheeky but she is nice. Whatever she asked for, she deserves it.” You say with a short nod, making your daughter laugh and hide her face into your coat. “She just needs to learn how not to leave my side when we’re outside.”

Mark could have reacted. He could have chuckled; he could have laughed – this is what Santa would do – and he could have played along while holding his belly but he is paralysed. 

You didn’t change one bit.

He does remember when was the last time he saw you. High school had turned into a mess when the rumour of a student being pregnant echoed into its walls. He remembers precisely how the whole school went on a hunt to punish the filthy student.

He mostly remembers how no one bothered the guy, his promising future as a player in the football team making it hard for his reputation to get stained by such a scandal. You disappeared and no one cared, no one thought it was a pity that you’d drop out of school to raise a kid when you were so young. No one tried except him.

Suddenly everything makes sense. From the kid’s age to how witty she is. He gets it.

Your beauty stays untouched on Nicole’s face.

Mark didn’t care about the scandal. Mark was living like an outcast, his sociability level high enough to hang around Jackson and offering invitations to parties.

But nothing compared to his love for you.

He was ready to fight; he would have beaten that smile off that jerk’s face who acted like he was innocent when you had to deal with the aftermath of a mistake that had broken your whole life.

Jackson told him it was normal, that is was love, that Mark would be great as a substitute father.

He had tried to be friends with you, only to understand he would never bear the weight of such a doomed status. Friends wasn’t what he longed for back then and he had been more heartbroken by the idea of you leaving than having to take care of you and your kid even if it meant raising a human who wasn’t his.

Life didn’t give him the chance even after he graduated. You disappeared and took all the answers with you, leaving Mark and everything he had to offer.

Jackson told him to keep looking, not to give up because if he was willing to do this much then he had to make it happen. He had to find you and hide you close, whispering words he had repeated at least a thousand times.

Life didn’t grant him that one request, leaving him thinking about you until it faded and he admitted it was over for good. He moved on naturally, finding shelter into his study and life as it continued.

Still, never did he stop thinking about what you had become.

And now you’re here, with your kid. You’re holding the reason behind such pain like it’s the most precious thing and Mark wants to cry.

I wish for mommy to be happy. Can you do that for me?

He wants to speak, but a part of him fears your answer, or maybe he is scared because you probably won’t recognise him.

“She does look like she deserves what she asked for…” Mark breathes out, his fake Santa voice gone.

“Really?” You ask, amused and all worry is gone as you look at your kid’s happy face. “What did you ask for?”

Nicole shakes her head, eyes scanning Mark’s hidden face before she looks at her mother again. “I can’t say.”

“Why?”

Mark coughs, deciding he must help that kid and of course he would have made you happy if life didn’t decide to mess with him. “It’s a secret between Santa and little Nicole.” He puts a hand on his fake beard, playing with its ends and making the kid laugh, glad to be able to count on Santa like she knew she could.

“…Alright…”

And like that you’re gone.

Mark stays right on the spot, not in the best attire to chase a woman and definitively not able to go away as another kid start pulling on his hand again.

He doesn’t hear the little boy speak, his eyes too busy scanning the people to find you.

Mark doesn’t know what to do. He can only rush to his sister and beg for a break, just so he can find you and speak properly. He takes more pictures, his mind off in another world where he hugs you and tells you everything will be okay.

He just hopes he won’t find you attached to another man’s arm. That would be too awkward but not surprising.

You’re too precious to be left alone.

So as soon as he can, he hides and removes his costume, uncaring of how cold it is. He rushes between the stalls, slaloming bodies and looking around. He finds nothing, nothing but happy families and smiley faces.

Until he sees you.

You’re about to leave, your kid munching on her candies and you searching for something into your bag.

Mark sprints.

He almost trips but catches himself and runs faster, the wind icy on his cheekbones. His hair is a mess of sweat and he probably is already catching a cold but who cares.

Who cares when you’re right in front of him.

You don’t expect someone to stop in front of you. It catches you off guard but Nicole is too busy to notice your astonishment.

Mark Tuan is standing right here.

How did he find you? Did he see you in the Christmas market? Why is he here?

Your mind is blurry, torn between relief and pain as it reminds you of a time you wish to forget.

“Hi.” Mark gets blunt. A greeting is supposed to be how you start a conversation so he jumps before he can think too much and chicken out.

He is so glad you recognized him. He can see it, right from the way your eyes shift from him to your daughter.

“Hi.” Is all you answer but he doesn’t need more, he has enough to say for the both of you and god knows Mark saves his words for the important times only.

He smiles at the kid who is waiting for something to happen, sugar plastered on her lips and eyes expectant.

“I saw you earlier.” He explains like you’re supposed to know he was the super realistic Santa Claus you talked to earlier. “It’s been so long. I’m glad you’re doing well and- wait- scrap that bullshit. I don’t have enough time because I’ll have to go back soon but just- just- I’ve been in love with you for the longest time and I know a lot happened but I never cared. I never cared about all the drama and regret everything they did to you. I was willing to do anything it takes to ease the pain and…I still am. If you’re free we can- oh yeah, there’s a kid, my sister- she has kids, just give me thirty minutes. Thirty minutes.”

Mark never spoke that much. You never heard Mark speak this much, either.

He was the quiet teen, the kid no one pays attention to but everyone knows. He was always so sweet, always ready to give you his notes and his friend Jackson, even though he was the loudest guy, was equally sweet.

One day he found you crying behind a tree and sat next to you. He stayed for an hour and said nothing. He patted your back and didn’t look at your crying face. He offered a tissue and watched you leave without asking for anything.

He was the kind of person you wouldn’t call a friend but who you knew would still be around.

Until you left.

Now he is standing here, confessing in front of your kid who doesn’t seem surprised. He looks even more handsome but what strikes you is not that.

He looks like he cares. No one cares about a single-mother.

You stammer, words caught in your throat. Nicole pulls on your hand and gets your attention before you can answer.

“I can play with the other kids, mommy!”

“What?”

“While you talk. I’ll be good and I won’t escape, I promise!”

Mark loves that kid already.

“You can talk to mommy!” Nicole offers Mark her best v sign, making him answer with the same ridiculous face and hand gesture.

You snort.

Mark’s eyes find your face after a minute, waiting for your answer as much as your kid who seems to be enjoying the situation way too much.

“I guess it’s settled.”

Mark leaves, signalling you to wait for him near this area so he can find you as soon as he is done.

You do as he says.

Nicole doesn’t speak, her mind too busy thinking about the events unfolding before her.

Your brain turns off. It turns off until Mark comes back, a coat now covering his body. He brings you toward a stall where a woman is waiting with two little girls.

“Here is my sister.” Mark looks in a hurry because you barely have the time to introduce yourself before he waves at everyone. You hear Nicole laugh with the kids like she is best friend with them and you’re gone. Mark is holding your hand like you’re both escaping from hell and it does look like it.

He stops in front of a wall where numerous lights paint figures, illuminating the darkness of the night and complimenting the Christmas trees.

“Too much is happening.” You confess when he makes you sit on a stone bench.

Mark nods, agreeing for different reasons.

“Too much happened. Too much happened without me and shit- I was ready to throw everything away for you. Jackson told me to keep on looking for you and I did, but you were out of my reach.” He pours everything he has and dares complaining, even.

You smile, the sadness back on your features and Mark understands he will never like that kind of look on your face.

“I didn’t have a choice. I had to go. My parents threw my out, the whole school was treating me like a bitch and that guy…well, I didn’t expect anything from him but still, I thought he’d help? Or at least I thought he wouldn’t crush me like the others. There was nothing I could have done. Don’t blame me for leaving when I was locked in hell.” It’s normal. Who would have stayed? No one.

Mark looks offended. “I’m not blaming you for leaving. I wouldn’t have been able to handle a hundredth of what you went through. I’m just being selfish. You left me.”

“You never made it obvious that you had such deep feelings. Even if you did, I would have never ruined your life. You were too nice to be put into that mess.” It’s true. Mark was always around but never did you think about involving him. He deserved nothing but peace and you couldn’t ruin that for him.

“I wanted you to mess me. I want you to mess me even now.”

You frown. “You don’t even know if I feel the same, Mark.”

The way you say his name makes his heart skip a beat. It’s been so long and it still sounds as beautiful as it used to.

Mark is far too gone to care about rejection. He waited for so damn long. “It’s true, but you’re not happy. You’re not happy and whatever is making you sad, give it to me. I can deal with anything- heck, I’ve been dealing with Jackson for so long!”

His remark makes you chuckle tiredly, the probability of being around Mark too overwhelming to make you laugh for real.  

“What if I accept and you understand you made a mistake later? I’m not alone and even though I could deal with another heartbreak, I can’t be selfish and think about me only. If you’re taking me, you have to take Nicole too.” Maybe you’re trying to scare him. Maybe you’re using all your cards so he would back off.

Because you’re too close to cry, you’re too close to accept and rush into his arms because you need help and comfort more than you’d like to admit. You’re so close to admit you’d actually entrust your life to him because Mark is nothing but the memory of someone you regret leaving.

It’s just that you never thought he was caring because of such reasons.

But Mark stays strong, his face unmoving, his motive unwavering and arms limp by his side.

And it’s like he had been ready to say this all his life as he whispers. “I take you both, and I would have back then if you had given me the chance to. You don’t have to love me right away but I’ll make sure you do, believe me.”

You become a mess in a matter of second. The tears fall, painting relief on your face and making you get up to walk toward a now worried Mark.

“Are you okay?” His tone is shaky, unsteady even, as you stop right in front of him.

You can only nod, hands wiping your cheeks hastily. “It’s just….you might think I’m stupid for saying this but…it feels like this thing they call the Christmas Miracle.”

Mark laughs, now fully relieved. “Finding you again is the real miracle.”

You become a mess again.

--

Nicole loses track of time. She thinks about you in the middle of her playing session, hoping that something good happened, that you’ll finally smile for real.

This man looked pretty serious as he confessed.

When she sees you come back, your hand into the man’s hand, she breathes out.

“Did you wait for long?” You ask, parting from Mark. You kneel softly, hugging your kid and feeling like everything will be okay from now.

“No mommy, the girls are really sweet!” She giggles, showing her mother a bracelet she apparently got as a present for being so nice.

You get up, walking away to properly greet Mark’s sister and proceed to thank her.

Mark is staring, eyes shiny and totally beaming as you already seem engrossed into a conversation about hyperactive kids.

“Santa is not joke.”

He looks down at Nicole who is watching, equally delighted.

“Why?” he asks, surprised by how natural the conversation seems to be between him and the cute little girl.

“Earlier, I asked Santa to make mommy happy for Christmas. She looks the happiest, now.”

Mark smirks, doing his best to hide his growing smile.

“Really? I’m sure you’ll definitely get what you asked for.”

[bookishanimegeek137]

My second post in the same day - I think I'm being too excited about this 😆. But either way, I'm thrilled to be sharing about my absolute favourite trilogy! I hope you feel the same way once you give it a read too!

A trilogy includes 3 books, and the 3 books that make up the Dark Matter Trilogy are:

- Contagion

- Deception

- Evolution

Let's dive into the synopsis and my opinions of each book!

Contagion

An epidemic is sweeping the country. Almost everyone will be infected. Almost everyone will die. . . Young teen Callie was one of the rare few to survive the disease after being subjected to the so-called treatment. She was kidnapped and experimented upon at a secret lab that works with antimatter. When she breaks free of her prison, she unleashes a wave of destruction–the contagion. Meanwhile her older brother, Kai, is looking for her. And his smart new friend Shay may hold the key to uncovering what truly happened–Shay was the last to see Callie alive. The problem is getting past the soldiers at the quarantine zone boundaries. But even when reunited the teens must find the source of disease. Could Callie have been part of an experiment in biological warfare? Who is behind the research? Is there a cure?

This book is not one of my favourites for no reason. Firstly, the gripping, well-planned plots will make you go "Oh!" in astonishment when you read on. The character chemistry will definitely wreck your heart when you reach the unexpected twists. The cliffhangers, oh the cliffhangers! So beautifully written, making readers ever so frustrated. Teri Terry unleashes her talent once again in this book, making this a trilogy not to be missed. It makes me a little disappointed to see the little recognition this trilogy gets. Whenever I search it up, all I get is the 2002 movie, Contagion, or the Netlfix series, Dark Matter. Let's make Teri Terry more well known!

Deception

What if everyone you love was snatched away or permanently changed? The sci-fi mystery deepens in Deception, book 2 of the Dark Matter trilogy, as teens Kai and Shay search for answers and each other. Shay believes she is a carrier of a deadly disease. She survives the “Aberdeen flu” only to surrender herself to the government and unwillingly become a test subject in an effort to find a cure. With the help of the mysterious Dr. Alex Cross, Callie’s father, Shay and other survivors will attempt to escape. Meanwhile, a heartbroken Kai joins up with the lovely Freja who is also being hunted because of her special abilities; they race to find Shay before vigilante hunters find her first. Kai’s sister, Callie, continues to hide a secret–she is the true carrier, and her goal is to find the man who killed her and make him pay. As they fight for survival, loyalties are tested. Is Callie who she says she is? Should Shay trust Alex, the man her mother ran away from–a man Kai hates? Will Kai forgive Shay for her betrayal? Only one thing is certain: they are stronger together.

Deception is my favourite book in the trilogy, as well as my favourite book out of all the books I've read! The various perspectives, and the lack of a certain character's perspective, will make you go crazy, yearning to know more. A beautiful, heartbreaking, mind-blowing sequel to Contagion, you won't rest in peace after reading Contagion, without being able to devour Deception. The title of this book says it all. Deception. Surely, it's all about lies, right? I mean, of course it is, but just how hard will they hit you? And are you prepared to go through more emotional trauma? Oh, and this might be a teeny weeny spoiler, but, if you're a Potterhead, I guarantee you'll be meeting someone much, much worse than Umbridge.

Evolution

Now available in paperback, Evolution is the the thrilling conclusion to the Dark Matter Trilogy: a showdown between Shay and her father brings this sci-fi trilogy to a satisfying close. Shay has left Kai once again by following Alex to his Multiverse compound. Her goal is to find the real Callie, but Shay discovers that the younger girl has no memory of her past. Their best hope is to leave the community. While Shay pretends to be a devoted follower, Alex makes his own plans to use Shay to spread the epidemic he caused. The few survivors will be only those who evolve special abilities and are worthy of building a new society with Alex as leader. The opportunistic Freja further poisons Kai’s memories of his girlfriend. Angry and hurt, Kai doubles down on his mission to reveal that his former stepfather is behind the epidemic, but he has little luck convincing the authorities–until it’s almost too late to save Shay from a fate worse than death.

I'll hate this book for as long as I live. But I'll also love this book for as long as I live. The plot in this book, as well as the way Terry writes it is so convincing, so flawless, that when you reach the end, you'll want to scream. Everything seems to be looking up, everything's going smoothly, everyone's safe, and BAM! Backstabbing and blood. It's a goddamn emotional rollercoaster! But the worse-than-Umbridge character I mentioned earlier gets her (yes, it's a she - why are all the cunning villains women?) just desserts. Not so bad after all, huh? I personally feel that the ending is a little too rushed, but that may be because I didn't understand Kai's part too well. Either way, it's a rather satisfactory ending to the whole trilogy!

Now, I can't just comment on Teri Terry's books without letting my favourite author get some publicity, can I? So, here are the links to her official website, her Goodreads account and her Facebook account.

Thanks for putting up with my rants 😘. I look forward to your comments on the Dark Matter Trilogy as well!

[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!!

Masterlist

[haberdashing]

Isolation

The story of your relationship with one Adrian Moseley. A TMA-inspired fic.

on AO3

You’re at a bar one night, drinking alone and keeping one eye on those around you while the other watches your drink, when you meet a charming individual named Adrian Moseley.

Adrian’s a little younger than you, but not enough that the age difference would cause a problem. They’re stunning physically, a thin waif of a thing that’s very attractive in your eyes, but that’s not the most important connection between the two of you. As Adrian strikes up a conversation with you, you soon find out that you have an astonishing amount in common: you have all the same hobbies, very similar opinions, and can and do talk for hours about a little bit of everything.

When they leave their cell phone number with you at the end of the night, on a torn piece of paper that has a heart drawn after their name, you have to stop yourself from calling them immediately.

You text back and forth and never seem to run out of things to talk about. One date with Adrian becomes two, becomes three, becomes more than you can count. They don’t have friends of their own--they’re new in town, apparently--but they join your social circle quickly.

And they start to point out things about your friends that you hadn’t noticed before, or that you had noticed before but had tried to ignore. See how she interrupts you all the time? See how he objects to every suggestion you make, only to end up suggesting the same thing ten minutes later? See how they never talk when you’re around, but always seem to be in the middle of a conversation when you walk by?

Are you sure these people are really your friends? Are you sure you want to spend time with them?

You’ve heard about abusive partners cutting you off from friends as part of the abuse before, but this isn’t that, you’re sure of it. There’s none of the anger, the indignation that you dare spend your time with anyone else. Adrian doesn’t even demand that you cut off ties with those you had previously thought so near and dear to your heart; they just give a list of lengthy, logical reasons why those “friends” of yours aren’t really such good friends at all, aren’t worthy of the time and effort needed to maintain your connection with them.

And it’s all true, all the information they give, that’s the thing. Those friends of yours really do make such inconsiderate actions, or have such strikingly different opinions, that you start to wonder why they were even your friends in the first place when they were so deeply flawed. Not like Adrian, of course. Adrian’s just like you--no, like a better version of yourself, caring and giving and understanding in ways that those friends of yours would never understand.

So, over time, your social circle dwindles until it’s just you and Adrian, but honestly, aren’t you better off that way, spending time with the love of your life rather than a bunch of fakers who probably never wanted you around anyway?

You bring up them meeting your parents, once. You say your mother and father would love to meet them--or, if they don’t, it’d be your parents’ problem, not theirs. They laugh it off at first, but then suggest that you’re being too optimistic, that your parents wouldn’t care for them at all. Sure, they’re just like you, but is that really a good thing in your parents’ eyes? Are you sure your family actually likes you as a person, let alone love you, or is their acceptance and apparent caring all just for show?

You spend holidays together, just you and Adrian, and it might seem awkward from the outside, but you’re pretty sure you’ve never felt so good before. There’s something about Adrian that lights up a room, makes everything okay even when the rest of the world seems out to get you. They’re a better friend than any of your old “friends” ever were, and that’s before getting into how wonderful they are as a lover, which... well, let’s just say you’ve never known such pleasure before.

You move in together, and it’s funny how easily your things and their things become indistinguishable, how it’s hard to tell what came from who. But that’s how close you are, you suppose. Same taste in interior design and everything. It really was meant to be.

Adrian doesn’t like talking too much about the future and what it might bring, but you still can imagine it vividly. You imagine your wedding day, beautiful and happy, even if your mother’s long gone and the man you once called your father is too much of an ass to walk you down the aisle. You imagine the present stretching into the future, years upon years spent by Adrian’s side, growing old together.

And then one day, Adrian leaves.

Maybe they leave a long note tearing your personality apart, pointing out every flaw of yours and claiming that you could never be good enough for them. Maybe they just disappear from your life, ghosting you in the middle of the night. Either way, you’re left alone in the place that you had shared with them, that feels much too large now that it’s just you in there.

You still have that slip of paper they’d written their number on, but as tears blur the digits and the little heart after their name, you can’t seem to get a message through. Did they block your number? They must have. After all this time, you can’t even speak to the person you knew was the one and only love of your life.

You’re heartbroken, that future you imagined so vividly now collapsing around you. You’ve never felt so alone in your life.

You try to find a shoulder to cry on, but it’s not so easy. You can remember a couple of your old friends, but when you try to get in touch, none of them seem to remember ever having known you. You try to remember things you did together, conversations you had back in the day, but all you can think of is Adrian’s voice pointing out all the ways they were horrid friends to begin with.

You wish you had family to rely on, as some sort of safety net for such situations, but, well, such is the life of an orphan, you suppose. That luxury was never available for you. You hadn’t missed it quite so much before, though.

Putting your life back together is a long, uphill struggle, filled with tears and screams and long hours spent alone, wondering what it was you had done so wrong, what you did to deserve this agony.

And some distance away, in a town you’ve never heard of, someone you’ve never met is just meeting a charming individual named Adrian Moseley.

[elliemarchetti]

The Deal (part 6)

Previous chapters

Words: 1713

"He sent me this," said Hermione, and held out the letter. Draco took it. The parchment was damp, and huge tears had made the ink drool so much that it was hard to read several words.

Dear Hermione,

we lost. They gave me permission to return him to Hogwarts. The date of execution must still be set. Buckbeak liked London. I won’t forget the help you gave us.

Hagrid

"They can't do it," Pansy said. "Buckbeak isn’t dangerous”

"My father terrorized those on the Committee until they were decided," Draco said, wiping his eyes wet with tears that he was stubborn about not spilling. “You know how he is and those are a bunch of trembling old men, some even older than Dumbledore! They’ve had fear. There will be the appeal, however, there’s always, but I see no hope, nothing will change.”

Hermione threw her arms around Draco's neck and burst into tears softly. He patted her on the head until she stopped and it was time to go to class, right at Hagrid’s, who seemed stunned by the shock of the verdict.

"It's all my fault. I didn't know what to say. They were all sitting there with their black clothes and my notes kept falling and I forgot all the dates you found for me, Hermione. And then Lucius Malfoy got up and made his speech, and the Committee did what he said... " he explained to Hermione while Draco and the other Slytherins kept their distance, out of respect. Hermione had reassured them that the half-giant would never have blamed them for what happened but only Draco's father’s insistence and his stubbornness in wanting to avert his son from her but they didn't want to hear reasons and maybe it was even better that way , as Ron and Harry approached to console him too, allowing Hermione to stalk away to use undisturbed the Time-turner professor McGonagall gave her to attend all the lessons. Even with it following them all was starting to get on her nerves but fortunately, although the cause was extremely unpleasant, Hermione dropped out from divination and her schedule became way more bearable although the Easter holidays weren’t exactly soothing, with all the homework the professors had assigned them, not to mention the fact that with all those training sessions, Draco and Hermione had barely had time to greet each other when they met in the Great Hall, to the extreme joy of his father, who had even sent him a big package of which Hermione didn’t know the content.

"Do you think it's a Firebolt like Potter's?" asked Pansy one day during a study session, but Hermione hadn’t even raised her head from her book while Millicent replied that it couldn’t be, given the shape of the wrapper. "But what do you want to know about brooms?" Lily had asked, and Hermione, who already had nerves on edge, had told the three friends, badly, to shut up. Since that day, not even the three Slytherin's girls had wanted to study with her anymore until Hermione, the night before the game that everyone was waiting for so anxiously, didn’t decide to put the books aside and go down in the dungeons to wish Draco good luck.

"We thought we would never see you again." Pansy, the one who was most disappointed by her attitude, hissed.

"If you think it's a personal thing, or worse, a House thing, you can’t be more wrong." Hermione replied, without losing sight of Draco, who was perpetually surrounded by people.

"I'm sure it's not like that, but we didn't think we would see you again since Draco has gained so much popularity since he stopped  hanging out with you. We thought, but correct me if I'm wrong, that you let him go for his own good."

Hermione caught Pansy's cold stare and wondered what she had lost in those weeks, until Millicent intervened to explain the situation to her, but only once her tiny friend got up to fetch a drink: “Ignore her, she wants to hurt you just because she's upset about your attitude over the last few weeks. I understand that you want to excel and we all know how you got to go well in potions so it doesn't surprise me you put all your efforts in it, but it’s only distancing you from the things that really matter in life and Pansy isn’t one that forgives quickly.”

“Then what’s your advice?”

"Give her time and actively engage in recovering her trust, with her it’s the only way." she cut short, seeing her friend was now returning with two butterbeers, but it was obvious that she too had had some disagreements she didn't want to talk about. To talk to Draco, however, she had to wait around the end of the party, at midnight.

"As usual, we don't have much time." he told her in a whisper, making her wince. The girls just left her alone, but in the silence of the dungeons she didn’t mind: the sound of the fireplace where the embers still crackled merrily and the chatter of the last few people awake had made her feel more at ease than anything that had ever happened in the Gryffindor Common Room. "Snape will arrive in less than half an hour, so you better be out of reach when it happens."

"We would’ve had more time if only you weren’t surrounded by a horde of admirers." she replied as her friend sat down next to her on the black leather sofa.

"The price of celebrity." he answered, making her laugh, but the moment of hilarity ended soon. "I heard you had an argument with Pansy. Or should I say a misunderstanding?”

Hermione smiled sadly: he was the king of misunderstandings.

"As I imagined.” he replied, contenting himself with her expression as an answer. "It’s typical of the Slytherins. You must understand that if they’ve relegated us down there, there should be a reason."

"I didn't know you wanted to be a comedian."

"I leave the part to the Weasleys, I'm just trying to cheer up a friend."

"So we're still friends? Even if I behaved like a bitch?" she asked and Draco widened his eyes, aghast.

“I'm a friend of Hermione Granger, the one who puts study first and never says a bad word. Who are you? What did you do to her?"

Hermione surrendered and dropped her head on the arm of the sofa only to sit back incredibly quickly when she heard footsteps outside the entrance.

"Snape is coming." she whispered, standing up with an agility that she didn’t believe she still had, after all that time spent on books. Even Draco was whippy and as soon as the teacher's shadow entered the Common Room he closed behind his shoulders the door of a dark room where two other boys were sleeping. Although her eyes hadn’t yet become well accustomed to the sudden darkness, Hermione noticed that the furniture was not so different from where she slept, as she had always imagined, but something made it all darker and less welcoming, more high-placed. Draco almost pushed her into the closet, and although Hermione wasn't very tall, she struggled to find an empty corner where she could crouch. The first thing she noticed was the lingering scent: in there everything smelled clean but also of the indistinguishable fragrance that Draco used, nothing you could find on the Muggle shelves, a richly layered perfume with notes of leather, tobacco, bright citrus fruits and spices. When they were younger, Hermione had always found it too sharp for a boy but now she warmed up to the scent and without it she wouldn't have felt like she was with Draco but with a substitute. The only thing that didn't have that unmistakable aroma was a dress covered with a black dress cover that unmistakably smelled like every new thing from Twilfitt and Tattings. Trying not to make any noise, Hermione leaned forward enough to discover a small part of it. To her utter astonishment, it didn’t hide a new cloak or a male ceremonial dress but a woman's dress of a beautiful emerald green.

"We can change color if you want." Draco commented, making her wince. "But I don't think you'd like the occasion for my mother sent it."

"They celebrate the verdict, don't they?" she asked, and even if Draco didn't nod she would still know the answer.

"Who they wanted you to take?" asked Hermione coming out of the closet.

“I think Pansy, they love her, but probably Lily would be fine too”

“I suppose as long as they are Slytherin and resemble your mother it’s fine, it doesn't matter if she has a brain smaller than a hippogriff's.” she replied. She didn't know whether to be heartbroken or somehow disappointed, even though she had no reason to feel either way.

"You gave the idea." he confirmed, sadly. “Not that I plan on going.”

"Don't you think they will get angry?" she asked, casually closing one of the doors and then resting her back on it. She knew that Draco's parents were disgusting but she didn't believe up to that point. Evidently, there was no limit to the worst.

"They are already angry, since they know that as far as possible I have helped you build the defense for Buckbeak. I think theirs is just a mocking gesture, as if to remind me that they are more powerful, and that despite my efforts I’ll never beat them by playing their game.”

He said it naturally, as if he were used to it, but Hermione doubted that there had ever been any war between the Malfoy before that year and it was only her fault.

"You can't win because they don't play by the rules." she tried to console him, but it was probably here that his parents wanted to arrive. “Don't let them change you with their machinations. I couldn’t bear to lose my best friend.”

“Best friend?” he asked, although the tone was a little disappointed.

“What do you want to be? My bestest best friend?” she asked sarcastically.

“Bestest best friend…” he repeated as if he really were weighing the appellation. “I like it.”

[cocochannel00]

Harry with Kids #14 Surrogate

Kids Ages: Connor (6), Rebecca (4), Grayson and Riley (3)

***Warning mentions of miscarriages****

You decided to go spend the afternoon with Gemma while Harry took the kids with him to the studio to his self proclaimed “bring your child to work day”. You doubted any work would get done with your kids or Adam’s kids there, but you were happy for the day off. You and Gemma had become very close over the years and her and Michael absolutely adored your children as well. It had been rough for them recently when it came to seeing your babies recently though. Last month Gemma had her second miscarriage in the past year and she was heartbroken. You and Harry tried your best to comfort her and keep her mind occupied but it was little consolation. That was part of the reason why you were going to see her. 

Anne had called you earlier that day asking if you could stop by and visit Gemma for the day. Anne didn’t disclose much but you knew it had to be bad if Anne was this worried about Gemma. 

You had just pulled up to her house when Gemma greeted you at the door wrapped in a blanket. Her eyes looked swollen but she forced a small smile and a wave. You quickly got out of the car and ran to give her a hug. 

“How are you love?” you asked as you squeezed her tightly in your embrace. 

“I’m ok. Could be better. The doctor called this morning with some test results from last week and...” she said tearing up again. 

“Oh, sweetheart no more tears. Come on, I’ll make us some tea. Go sit down on the couch and we can talk for a bit. Did you call Michael about the results?” you asked as you walked Gemma to the couch.

“He was here when they called. He had to go into work today though, had already missed too many days” she whispered as you brought the tea from the kitchen.

“It will be ok, love, don’t worry. Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?” you asked cautiously as you took a sip from your mug. Gemma nodded and took a shagged breath. 

“I had some x-rays and MRI scans done when I went to the doctors last week to check to see what was going on. They said it was rare to have 2 miscarriages in a row so they were concerned. They called and... they said... that there was a small chance I would ever be able to have a child. They said I had a uterine septum that was causing the miscarriages... surgery could potentially fix it but I don’t want to risk getting my hopes up and it not working” She mumbled in between her sobs. Your heart broke for her as you passed her a tissue.

“Oh love I’m so sorry Gemma. Have you talked to Michael about it at all?” 

“He didn’t want to push me, probably because I was a sobbing mess when they called. God, he wants a baby so badly (Y/n), he so good with them too. I want a baby so badly I just don’t think I can go through the heartbreak of losing another one.” She replied back. 

You sat there in silence as Gemma tried to calm herself down. You bit your lip as you began to think. As a nurse, you had witnessed plenty of births both successful and unsuccessful and you understood Gemma’s fears, especially with how tough your pregnancy with the twins had been. You had been mulling over an idea for the best couple of weeks but you weren’t sure how your idea would be taken. You knew this would be difficult to ask especially in the emotional state Gemma was currently in. You didn’t want to offend her or make her feel worse but you had to get the idea off of your chest. You took a shaky breath before slowly speaking. 

“What if... what if I had your baby? I don’t want to offend you and it might be too soon for you which is ok too. I just wanted you to know that if you ever wanted to, I mean I would have to ask Harry as well, but I would happily be your surrogate... if that’s what you wanted of course.” you rambled as you starred at the floor. 

Gemma took your hands in yours and squeezed them tightly. 

“You would do that for us?” She asked. You nodded before giving her a small smile. 

“I would. I need to ask Harry and you should talk it over with Michael, but if that’s what you guys want to try I would gladly do it” you replied before Gemma through herself at you. 

“Oh, you are an angel... an absolute angel. Thank you so much (Y/n), Harry could not have chosen a better person to marry all those years ago. I’ll talk to him when he gets home” she replied. 

“Talk to me about what, love?” Michael asked as he walked into the living room, shrugging off his coat as he came to sit on Gemma’s other side.

“(Y/n) said that if you and I wanted she would be a surrogate for us?”

“You... you would?” Michael stammered, caught off guard. You simply smiled and nodded your head. 

“I’d need to talk with Harry but yes if that’s what you guys want I would gladly do it”

They both looked at each other for a moment before looking back at you. Michael got up off the couch and gave you a tight hug before mumbling endless thank you’s. You left their house shortly after, ready to go ask Harry about your new proposition. 

You walked into your kitchen to the sound of squealing coming from the living room. Your kids were all sitting in the living room playing with various toys as Harry stirred something in the pot. You walked up behind him a placed a soft kiss on his shoulder blade as you wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“Hello darling, how was your day off?” he asked as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Good, I went to see Gemma” you replied as you took a seat on the marble countertop. Harry lifted his gaze from the pot.

“How is she?” he asked. Harry had been just as worried about Gemma as Anne although he tried not to show it whenever we went for a visit. 

“She’s ok... doctor gave her some bad news... her scans show that she has a uterine septum... makes pregnancy nearly impossible... I might have proposed to them an idea while I was there..” You mumbled, tracing patterns on the countertop. 

“What kind of idea?” he asked, putting a lid on the pot and giving you all his attention. You grabbed his hands and began fiddling with his wedding band. 

“We have four beautiful children and every time I see them I’m more and more grateful... and so I thought, why shouldn’t Gemma be able to have an angel of her own? So I told her that I would ask you both as it is a big commitment on both of our ends, but I told her that if she wanted I would be a surrogate for her?” You replied, avoiding Harry’s eyes. 

You heard his voice hitch before he carefully released his hands from yours and brought them to your face, tilting your head so you would look at him. You gazed up and saw his bright green eyes glossy with unshed tears. 

“You would do that for Gemma?” he whispered as he caressed your cheek softly. You nodded your head, tears pooling in your eyes as well. 

“She’s family H, I would do anything for her” you replied back before Harry crashed his lips onto yours in a long and passionate kiss. As he released your lips he began to pepper kisses all over your face, repeating “I love you” with every kiss he planted. You giggled softly as you slowly backed away. 

“So I can tell her yes?” 

“Yes,” he replied before kissing you again. 

6 months later...

“(Y/n) would you stop walking around!! They said this was a high-risk pregnancy, please get back into bed, love” Harry scolded as followed you around the house.

You were currently five-month pregnant with Michael and Gemma’s child at to say those two were excited would be an understatement. They had repainted the nursery at least four times since you had gotten pregnant. You were so happy to be able to give them the child currently kicking inside your stomach.

“Let's hope you don’t come out as annoying as your Uncle Harry” you murmured down as you rubbed your stomach softly, marching into the kitchen to grab a snack. 

“I could have gotten it for you, (y/n)” he replied as he came up behind you.

“Harry I’m pregnant, not dying. Please stop fussing, I’ve been pregnant before” you mumbled as you grabbed a spoon from the silverware drawer. 

“I know but this is a higher risk pregnancy because of the twins. You need to stay in bed. I don’t want anything to happen to you because you are doing this for Gemma. I love her but your health needs to come first.” he states as he carefully guides you upstairs again to your shared bed. 

You carefully laid down again as you stared at your swollen legs and feet and groaned. God, you hated how easily they swelled up, even if you were up on your feet for less then five minutes. You wiggled around the bed in a miserable attempt to get remotely comfortable in bed. Harry carefully placed a stack of pillows under your legs to help reduce the swelling. 

“Thank you, I didn’t think this would be this hard” you whispered as you blinked back tears. You were so glad you were able to give Gemma this child but your hormones made you all the more sensitive to the many problems the baby was causing you.

Harry carefully laid down next to you and hugged you tightly to your body, placing a gentle kiss on your temple. 

“I know baby, I know. If I had known it would be this hard on you I wouldn’t have said yes” he replied as you scoffed at his response.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I would do it again if it meant helping Gemma” you replied back. 

“You know every time I see you I fall more and more in love with you. The fact that you would do this for Gemma even though you know it was high-risk still astonishes me. (Y/n), you are the greatest woman I have ever met. I’m so glad I found you when I did” he stated as he gently kissed the tears from your cheek. 

That night after putting the kids to bed the to of you stayed up in your bed talking through the night about anything that popped into your brain (with a small break for a pop tart you were craving). Harry knew that at that moment he could not be more in love with you. He had truly found an angel..... 

Hopefully, you all liked it!! Please send me more requests as my creativity is at -15 since school started again. Thank you @theonethingforyouu for requesting this, hopefully, you liked it too!!

[necroskullia]

A question for Wilfre: If you don't mind my asking,why is it you seek to do the things you wish to achieve,and what I mean by that is why exactly are you so full of hate and rage for?

Wilfre reforms and appears from the darkness.

“. . . Why you ask, tsk tsk tsk such a naive question but I suppose it’s only fair that I unravel the truth and explain...and I imagine you’d be more at ease if I took on a more appealing form than the likes of this so allow me to humor you...”

He sheds his dark visage revealing what’s underneath.

“Ahem...now then,where was I oh yes you want to know why I’m so full of hatred and rage as well as why I seek to achieve my goals....very well I’ll tell you.”

“Long ago there was a time when I too was a young and free spirited Raposa who adored the simpler things and what Life itself had to offer,I once was a beautiful and well respected member of our little society that The Creator had made. In time I took a liking to creation and the incredible things that The Creator was capable of making on a whim,so much so that I sought to be just like Them taking a pen in hand I too began drawing things of my own and wished that they would be given the breath of life much as we had been because I wanted my creations to be just as lively and unique as The Creator’s . . .  One day I wandered into The Hall of Creation and found the very tool used in our creation and took out a notebook and began drawing away to my heart’s content eager to see just what I could bring forth with it expecting to create something just as astonishing as ourselves,but once I was finished and my creation lept forth from the notebook it’s form was inky,shadowy,disfigured,and black as sin......Heartbroken and in a fit of confusion and misunderstanding I wept and called out to The Creator to ask why these events unfolded as they had, and was greeted not with a kind voice but that of disappointment. They replied ‘Wilfred my son,why doth thou trespass into The Hall of Creation,thou knoweth that I forbid anyone to breach these sacred walls and tamper with the instruments of creation without good reason or cause. So tell me my son,what is thine reason for coming here?’

“In response I stepped back in fear that I had angered our God and tried to explain myself that I simply wished to be like them and to give life to things such as they had and that my intentions were not those of malice or ill intent,but once I gave my response the voice rang out. ‘My son although I do appreciate your sense of curiosity and yearning to be like me the world I’ve made for you and the others is perfect and without flaw as is and is in no need of further creation, the reason your creation has turned out as such is because I see no reason for it to be a part of the utopia I’ve made for you here therefore it’s form is as it appears distorted and unstable because it is not needed.’

“In a fit of anger I lunged forth and questioned The Creator’s decision as to why my creations were viewed as unneeded and they replied. ‘Because it is not my will therefore it is viewed as unjust and will not be allowed, I have spoken and by my command you will halt these actions and shall not go against me for I am all knowing and my word is law. Now by my word return the tool of creation and leave The Hall of Creation at once, I have spoken!’  “In dispute I went against The Creator and made a dash for The Book of Life and began tearing out it’s pages which had negative effects upon our very world as we knew it, and in doing so my own form became blackened and corrupted as my heart was slowly filled with hate towards The Creator and their words, I shouted out in anger.”

“So be it then you fool, you so wish to oppose me and spit upon my creativity,then I’ll bring forth damnation upon all you’ve made and bring about creations in my own image and we shall see who’s worthy to rule, hear my vow oh Creator thou shalt rue the day you opposed me for it will be the downfall of this world you’ve made and it along with it’s inhabitants shall crumble as I reign forth a new empire where my word is law and your very creations will learn my name and will respect me or they will be condemned as I see fit this I promise you!” 

“Now you know my tale and why I am the way that I am,because the very one who gave me life cast aside my attempts to be like them and showed no desire to have someone follow in their footsteps and it still disgusts me to this very day....and I will not rest until my reign becomes reality one way or another.Now begone from my sight cretin!”

[shasta627]

Eleteo Week Day 5: Hurt/Comfort/Angst

So I’m super late with this and I’ll probably be posting all my other fics out of order too, but at least I’m getting them done so that’s saying something ahaha. Anyway, I started this a while ago and just finally got it finished, so I hope y’all like some good blind Eleteo angst (with a happy ending tho it’s okay).

To All the Things We Cannot See 

It’s at the beginning of the year that Mateo notices he needs to squint in order to read the text in his spellbooks, but it doesn't bother him too much. He thinks he’s just tired, and there's no reason to worry about it.

He puts the observation in the back of his mind and continues on with his daily life...

~

A few months go by before he notices his diminishing eyesight is definitely not due to lack of sleep. He keeps squinting at everything now, trying as hard as he can to make out a clear picture, but it's all fuzzy and indistinct and hard to focus on what he's seeing.

Maybe it’s because he reads in the dark? His mami often tells him it’s a sure way to put strain on his eyes, but he's never believed her. Maybe he should start heeding her advice from now on, he decides, and returns to his work.

~

It isn't until he's talking with Elena a few weeks later that he realizes it may be more serious than he thinks.

“I don't understand,” he's telling her one afternoon. “I can't find the vial anywhere! I've looked all around my workshop and the library, but it's like it's just disappeared.” He frowns, shaking his head in frustration.

Elena’s frown mimics his own as she comes to stand beside him at his desk. “But Mateo,” she says to him. “Isn’t it right here?” She grabs an object off of the desk and hands it to him, and sure enough, it’s the vial.

“But…” he trails off, squinting at the empty cylinder in astonishment. Now that it’s in his hand he can see it’s the very object he’s been searching for all day, but earlier it looked just like the pestle he uses to ground up herbs for his potions.

He sets the vial down and rubs a hand along the side of his face. “I think I need glasses,” he announces in all seriousness, but Elena just laughs and places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she reassures. “It happens to everyone. Just the other day I spent a good twenty minutes searching for my scepter before realizing it was already in my sheath.” She giggles again, and Mateo can’t help but smile at her in return.

But in the back of his mind the worry lingers, and he knows something is terribly, terribly wrong.   

~

He finally decides to visit the palace physician after he accidentally walks into a wall while heading to the library.

“So what seems to be the problem?” the physician asks as soon as Mateo steps into her office.

Mateo glances around the room in confusion before answering with a question of his own. “Why...why is it so dark in here?”

He vaguely sees the doctor frown before she steps closer to him, her eyes scanning his face. “I assume you came because of your eyes,” she says, much to Mateo’s astonishment.

“How did you know?” he asks hesitantly. Did his face immediately betray his predicament?

“This room's fairly well lit, yet to you it’s dark. That seems like a vision problem to me,” she explains before having him undergo several eye tests.

The results are not great, to say the least.

The physician hums in discontent as she looks over the notes she took while he was performing the various vision exercises she gave him. “It isn’t looking too good,” she admits softly.

Mateo’s stomach clenches. “What does that mean? Do I need glasses?”

The look of pity she fixes him with is almost worse than the news she delivers.

“Your vision is going fast,” she says. “And in a few months, I’m guessing you’ll be completely blind.”

~  

Mateo sits on the steps of the palace and fastens his eyes on the sunset before him. It’s a common sight in Avalor, yet he realizes he's never given much thought to the canvas of colors in the sky before, and with a pang of remorse he knows it’s a sight he's going to definitely miss seeing.

He’s been trying his best not to panic. As soon as the doctor told him the news he ran back to his workshop as fast as he could and began trying to find a way to reverse the blindness, but there is only so much magic can do.

He can feel the fear creeping up, the black monster of panic wrapping around his heart and squeezing it in a vice-like grip, but so far he’s kept it at bay.

For today, at least.

He hears footsteps behind him and suddenly Elena is by his shoulder, sitting down next to him.

“Hey! What’re you doing out—” she pauses, and Mateo assumes she’s seen his grave face. “What’s wrong?” she asks instead, her voice soft and concerned.

Mateo turns to look at her, and soon realizes what a horrible mistake it was.

All at once he realizes that in a few months he’ll never be able to see her again. He’ll never see her beautiful face with her perfectly red lips, or large chocolate eyes and deep brown hair that tumbles down her back in elegant waves. He realizes he’ll never see her smile again, or the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs, or the way she bites her bottom lip when she’s deep in thought.

All these realizations flash through his head in a matter of seconds, and then he’s shaking, clenching his fists at the injustice of it all.

He turns away before he can lose the cool composure he's being trying to maintain all day. He's not sure how to break the news to her, and he tells himself that his hesitation is because he doesn't want her to worry or pity him, but deep inside he feels his stomach knot with anxiety as the gravity of the situation becomes so much heavier. Once he voices his condition it becomes real; it won't be just a nightmare plaguing his mind anymore. He can't just pretend it's all a dream. He's almost tempted to just lie and give her a vague response, to tell her that he's sick and leave it at that, but this is Elena. She cared and he knew it, and he couldn't lie to her, not about this.

And so he opens his mouth, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. “I'm going blind,” he says, his eyes trained on the stone steps by their feet.

And as much as he loves the enchanting, melodic sound of her voice, for once he's thankful that she's quiet and says nothing, instead just reaching forward to gently take his hand in hers in silent shock, twining their fingers together. Mateo squeezes her hand tightly in response, and finally lifts his eyes back up to the sunset.

The scene is blurry, and this time he isn't sure if it's because of his failing vision, or because of the tears forming in his eyes.

~

It's only been a week since his diagnosis, and already most of Avalor has heard the news.

The hardest part had been telling his mom, and for the first time he truly wished he was already blind so he wouldn't have had to see the way her face morphed into an expression of heartbroken pity.

He allows the sympathy from his mother, yet he makes all of his friends swear not to feel sorry for him, knowing it would only make the situation all the more uncomfortable and depressing than it already was.

He's still searching, night and day for some sort of spell or potion that can cure him, but according to the physician his vision loss is due to genetics, and he's not certain if magic can permanently rewrite DNA.

It's when his eyesight is about halfway gone that Mateo approaches Elena, holding a crisp piece of paper folded in his hands.

“What's this?” she asks curiously when he hands it to her.

“My resignation letter,” he admits in a soft voice. “Avalor can't have a royal wizard that's blind.”

Elena reads over the letter, her face void of any emotion. Then she rips it in half and crumples up the pieces into a ball.

“Resignation denied,” she tells him, folding her arms across her chest in a defensive stance, as though signaling that her decision is final.

Mateo gaps at her. “But Elena,” he counters, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “How can I learn new magic if I can't read anymore? And how am I supposed to brew potions and cast spells if I can't see what I'm doing?”

“Nonsense. You still have four other senses, y’know,” Elena points out. “And you don’t really need to see to do magic. You still know the spells, you know how to use a tamborita, and you can learn through muscle memory how to make different potions.”

“But Elena—” He begins to protest, but Elena brings up her hands to silence him.

“Plus, you still have all of us and an apprentice to help you,” she reminds him. “Don’t give up on yourself Mateo, because no one’s given up on you.”

Mateo wants to disagree, to convince her that he’s going to become a liability rather than an asset to the kingdom, but her words warm his heart and he wants to believe them, so he simply gives her small nod and turns to leave before she reaches out and catches his arm.

“Mateo…” her voice is soft and Mateo suspects her expression is one of compassion. “You’re irreplaceable. I hope you know that.”

He doesn’t trust his voice so he gently puts his hand over hers and hopes her words ring true.

~

Days pass by while the months slowly crawl, and Mateo tries his best to adapt to his new lifestyle. He can still see a little bit, but everything is hazy and blends into shadows and he can no longer discern the little details present on everything around him.

He learns how to make his way around the palace and the majority of the town based on pure memorization, and discovers how to differentiate his potions based on the size and weight of the vials they’re contained in.

For a while it seems like everything will be fine. He’s trying to keep a positive outlook on the situation and for the most part succeeds, especially when he’s with his friends and family and they all act as though nothing is wrong, as though their faces aren’t becoming indiscernible to him.

But it’s when he’s alone that it becomes the worst.

It’s been three months since his diagnosis now and he's standing in the courtyard, barely able to see the early morning sun glinting above the horizon, his hand shaking slightly as he holds out his tamborita in front of him.

He can still do this.

The potted plant across the enclosure acts as his target, and it’s not too far away. He should be able to knock it over with a simple spell.

But the target is fuzzy and when he tries to squint and focus on the plant it seems to shift and blend into its surroundings.

He calls out the spell and slaps his palm against the head of he tamborita, and winces as it hits the wall behind the target. He tries again, his hands shaking more and his breath unsteady at the aggravation clouding his mind. He can do this. He has to be able to do this.

But the third time he tries the spell is cast way off, and ends up hitting the garden trellis on the other side of the courtyard.

“Mateo!” he hears Elena’s voice call in concern, and then suddenly he feels her beside him and her hands are on his arm, lowering his tamborita and gently removing it from his clenched fist. “What are you doing? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Mateo shakes his head, his chest aching in an effort to keep his emotions at bay. “I’m—I’m fine,” he mumbles, his voice thick.

“Then what in Avalor were you doing?” Elena asks exasperatedly, and even though he can’t see it Mateo knows there’s a worried expression currently etched into her features.

“It’s...nothing,” Mateo huffs, turning away from her and heading back to his workshop. She doesn’t need to see him like this; to see how fragile and weak he is, and that his lack of vision is affecting him more than he’d like to admit.

But of course she follows him, ever the concerned friend. “You practically destroyed half the garden—I wouldn’t call that nothing,” she presses, and Mateo only quickens his steps, trying to get away before he loses control. They reach his workshop and he goes to stand behind his desk, pretending to try and look down at the book lying open there so she can’t see his face.

“I was just practicing,” he says, hoping she’ll get the hint from his cold tone of voice and leave.

She doesn’t, however, and only comes closer. “Why?” she insists. “Mateo, I know there’s something wrong, and if you could just tell me then maybe I could help—”  

“Don’t,” he finally snaps, his hands clenched into fists on top of his desk. “Don’t pretend like you can fix this. I’m broken, Elena.” His voice cracks and he hates himself all the more for it. “I’m a mess, and I can’t even hit a stupid plant with a spell anymore. I—I just—” He’s finding it hard to breath. “I don’t know what to do, and it all just makes me so angry.” The pent up frustration and resentment he’s been harboring toward his condition begins to boil over. “It’s not fair! What did I do to deserve this?”

And before he can stop to think he angrily sweeps his arm across the top of his desk, and sends the large tome he was pretending to read careening to the floor. The loud thud gives him a brief moment of satisfaction before his rage dissipates, and then he sinks to the ground, hot, bitter tears flowing freely from his clenched eyes as he buries his head in his hands. He can’t hold back anymore; it’s too much for him to try and bottle up. He doesn’t even care that Elena’s there anymore; he’s exhausted of pretending everything is fine, and doesn’t know how to handle it all.

But a few moments later he feels Elena’s cool hands on his cheeks as she curls up beside him and pulls his face against her chest, gently stroking his hair as his tears continue to flow. She whispers his name soothingly and occasionally presses soft kisses on his forehead, simply there to hold him and offer comfort through her presence. Mateo just grips her tightly, as though she’s the only lifeline he has left, and cries harder than he ever has before. He cries for friends, family, and himself, and for the sights he’ll never be able to see again.    

~

It’s a warm, Tuesday morning two weeks after his breakdown that it happens. He wakes up and opens his eyes and is greeted with nothing but darkness. He sits up and simply stares at the wall he knows is across from him.

It isn’t as terrifying as he imagined it to be. Definitely strange, but not entirely disconcerting. He’s been preparing himself for this moment for the last four months, so he supposes that explains the weird sense of calm he feels as he stands and begins his morning routine. What’s done has been done, and he figures there’s no point in shedding tears over something he can no longer fix. After he’s dressed and presentable he simply leaves his room with a long sigh, ready to go and break the news to his friends and family.

~   

“Elena,” Mateo begins in slight exasperation after she opens the door for him for the sixth time that day, “I appreciate you wanting to help me, really, but I’m not entirely helpless. I can do things on my own, too.”

It’s been a week since he completely lost his sight, and although he’s appreciated the constant support form those around him, it was getting to be a bit much.

He can almost imagine Elena’s expression at his words, the way her lips are probably twisted into a frown and her eyes full of concern. His cheeks burn in shame at the way she is no doubt pitying him. “You don’t have to stick around because you feel sorry for me. I don’t...I don’t want to burden you. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

She’s silent and he wonders what’s going through her brain. “Mateo,” she finally begins, slight confusion evident in her tone. “You know you’re not a burden to me. And I’m not sticking beside you solely out of pity.”

“Then why?” he retorts in an exasperated huff, his emotions suddenly spiking in annoyance. “Why else would you hang out with me all the time, other than to make sure I’m not going to hurt myself? To make sure I’m not helpless?” He knows in the back of his mind that this is what he fears—that people only see him as a hindrance, and even though he’s been battling this fear ever since he learned of his condition it still often presents itself as a legitimate possibility.

“Mateo,” Elena chides almost affrontedly. “I know you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself, I just...get over zealous at times, I guess.”  

They’re in the library now, and everything is completely still and quiet around them. Mateo accepts her explanation with a single nod and turns to head into his workshop, but the sound of her heavy breathing stops him. He turns back around and faces her general direction, wondering what in Avalor she’s thinking to have her so breathless.

He’s about to ask when she begins to speak again.

“And also I...I care about you, a lot, Mateo, and I—” she pauses, and then he hears the fabric of her dress rustle as she moves closer and takes his hand. “You make me feel like no one else, and I can hardly describe it, it’s just...I want to spend time with you for you, not because I think you’re incompetent or anything.”

Mateo’s standing as still as a statue, his mouth opening in pure shock. He’s always loved her—he accepted the fact a long time ago—but now here she is, saying she cares for him, even after she’s seen him struggle and break down several times throughout these past few months? And she still likes him for him, despite all his shortcomings?

“You don’t have to say anything back,” Elena quickly says, trying to fill in the silence. “I just...thought you should know the truth.” She begins to pull away but Mateo’s grip on her hand keeps her anchored in place.

His heart is pounding and he’s pretty sure it isn’t healthy to be experiencing so many emotions at once, but one muddled thought breaks through the chaos in his mind. He needs to let her know, too.  

He reaches up his hand to gently touch the side of her face, running his finger down her cheekbone and to the edge of her chin with a newfound confidence only his lack of sight seemed to procure.

Elena remains frozen in place as his fingers gently map out the contours of her face, and he smiles as he can picture every feature in perfect detail. He doesn’t miss her subtle intake of breath when his fingers ghost over her lips, and he finds himself lingering there, unable to tear his fingers away.

“Mateo,” she whispers softly, and he can almost feel the word against his skin rather than hear it.

Without a second thought he leans down to where he knows her lips to be and presses his own against them. And as they slowly but surely lose themselves in their sweet exchange, Mateo realizes that he doesn’t need his sight to kiss her, and just for a moment he forgets he’s blind. They both do.

And just for a moment, everything is perfect.

And he knows the future will be, too.