#prince hobi | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 1 year ago

Text

What if... you decided to run away? part three | OT7 BTS au

A very belated update starring my soulmate @shadowofahope and some angst. Warnings: mentions of murder, crime scenes, betrayal, injury, a mentally deranged villain, and bts hurting. 6.3K words

Two options presented themselves to Min Yoongi as he watched you happily having breakfast with the others. He could tell you and this whole dream would be shattered, or he could bury it, and they could all live happily ever after. He was deluding himself he knew it, it wasn’t a question of if you’d find out, it was a matter of when. He also knew, if he wasn’t the one to tell you, you’d never forgive him.

Still with knowing this, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he looks at you, his throat seized. All his instincts wanted to do was keep him from breaking the mirage of everything he wanted, and that’s what he would be doing. Call him a coward, like Namjoon was doing with his gaze eating into the side of Yoongi’s face, but to keep that smile on your face, he’d be anything to keep dreaming.

“Hyung, Princess is sleeping next to us tonight,” Jungkook stares down the Prince with the most serious glare he can muster before he sits down for his serving of pancakes. Jimin and Taehyung nodding furiously on either side of him, imploring with their eyes that you both agree.

The idea of you not being in his arms as he slept made an uncomfortable itch manifest under his skin, akin to anxiety but more volatile. He keeps himself from scratching, nodding quietly in agreement as he plays with his food. He can feel the surprise in the room, Jin and Hobi looking at each other in shock. Even you nearly choked on the orange juice, whipping your head round to inspect the silent prince.

He tried to keep his features neutral, knowing you could read him like a book. Your reassuring palm on his thigh lets him know you can see through him, that light squeeze trying to coax him to look at you, but he’s too afraid to. If he faces you he would have to face Namjoon too, and right now, he couldn’t deal with either of you.

“Yoongi?” Your voice is so understanding and soft, the disgust he had in himself he could feel rise like bile in his throat at the sound.

“I don’t like it Jagi,” he tries to smile, trying to meet your eyes. “But you’re right I have to share.”

He excuses himself, unable to stand lying to you about his current predicament, Namjoon’s eyes following him every step of the way. You’re about to follow after him but the taller individual beats you to it, telling you to stay.

The remaining men look between themselves, questioning each other silently before you verbalise their thoughts.

“Did someone say something to him?” You wince at the accusation in your own words.

“We’ve been saying something to him since we landed Princess,” Jimin deadpans, eyes narrowing at you as you defend the greedy prince.

“Look I know he’s been… unreasonable lately, but you know him,” you didn’t want to talk about Yoongi’s vulnerabilities, but the suggestion was clear in your tone. “He doesn’t mean to be-” you hesitate, trying to find the right word.

“An asshole?” Jin suggests, making Jungkook snicker at the language. “We know Princess, but I think he’s forgetting the fact we nearly lost you too.”

“Of course you’re going to defend your prince over your knights in shining armour,” Taehyung mumbles to himself, his fork hitting the plate harshly as he picks up a piece of pancake.

You press your lips together to hold back the laugh, Jin and Jimin mirroring your expression.

—

You knock on the door again, the fifth time, but still no response. It had been a week since you last saw her and now you were worried something was wrong. You frown, there were only so many places you could be on this island and when the weather was scorching like today, the only place was home. So why was your new friend not answering the door?

“Nym?” You call out again, but not a whisper greets you back.

You sigh, sweat starting to drip from your scalp to your face. You turn back to your place, telling yourself you’d try again later.

The heat of the sun cooked the top of your head, you curse yourself for not bringing out a hat or parasol or something. As beautiful as this piece of heaven was, you were not acclimated to it.

You try not to run back to the villa to escape the heat, ready for a cool drink as you reach the front step.

“Where have you been?” Yoongi almost yells in his panic when you walk through the door making you jump.

“Hey,” you frown, hand on your chest to slow your startled heart. “What’s wrong?”

He composes himself at that question, as if he wasn’t aware of his demeanour until you called it out, like he forgot himself for a moment.

“Nothing,” he mutters, walking away with his head hanging low in guilt.

What the heck was that?

“Yoongi?” You call after him, knowing he wanted to be alone but not wanting to leave him with the thoughts drowning him. You follow him into his room, staring in worry when he sits on the bed and hangs his head into his hands.

“Baby?” you ask, heart thumping uncontrollably as your mind races. “Yoongi what’s wrong?”

You’re scared to approach him, depending on his disposition he didn’t always welcome physical comfort when he felt vulnerable. Whatever cloud was thundering above him had his shoulders slumped, you couldn't see his eyes, couldn’t read his expression.

“Yoongi say something,” you beg, still standing by the door. “You’ve been acting weird all week, please say something.”

He sniffs, lifting his head, eyes full of water ready to spill. You stand in shock for a second, Yoongi wasn’t one to cry. You rush to him, holding him tight as he starts to sob, knowing he was unworthy of your comfort right now when he kept the worst secret from you.

“Jagi, tell me what's wrong please,” your own bottom lip wobbles, you hate seeing him upset, it kills you.

He shakes his head against you. You would never forgive him, he tries to get ahold of himself, pushing away from you as he wipes his face in his hands. The look of worry you give him breaks his heart. He takes your hand in his, trying to reassure you silently by stroking his thumb against your skin but he can’t meet your eyes.

He wants to thank you when you don’t push it, when you let it go for now, but the words are bitter and vile in his mouth and he doesn’t release them.

—

“Why are you guys making popcorn?” Namjoon asks when he enters the kitchen, Yoongi close behind him after another argument.

“We fixed the TV,” Jungkook says with a mouthful of snacks.

The prince becomes petrified with panic, he was the one to mess with the wiring so you wouldn’t have access to the outside world or the news. The fear that freezes him, suddenly jolts him out of shock, almost running to the living room where he finds you flicking through the channels. He doesn’t think before he snatches the remote out of your hand, turning the device off and gaining everyone’s questioning gaze.

“Yoongi?”

“Hyung, what are you doing?” Taehyung asks in disbelief, he just got comfortable for movie night.

He can’t say a word, his mind drawing blanks for an excuse.

“You’ve been acting weird all week,” Jin says.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Jimin looks at him as if he’s grown 2 extra heads.

“No tv,” he breathes, the panic not subsiding. Namjoon stands behind him, his cheeks sucked in as he watches the scene. He’s still angry from the fight with the prince, but he wasn't vindictive enough to throw him under the bus.

“Why?” Hoseok asks.

“He’s hiding something,” you finally speak after observing him, trying to take the remote back but he grips onto it like his life depends on it.

Jungkook had followed behind the two when they entered, moving towards the screen while you and Yoongi stared at each other. He uses the controls on the TV to turn it on, Yoongi’s face turning blank when he changes channel. It’s his worst luck that it revealed what he tried so desperately to hide.

You turn to the image of your father’s coffin being walked out of his castle, held up by 6 men as Baekhyun and Taeyeon walked behind it dressed in black. The words the newscaster was saying don’t even reach your ears, your face contorting from shock into pain.

“Jagi…”

You start hyperventilating, the others caught in stupor, unable to move. The king was dead, and they all had strong suspicions that Yoongi knew.

“Y/n let’s calm-“ Namjoon tries reaching for you but you snap away at his touch.

“Did you know?” He would take bullets right now than the look of fire on your face.

“Y/n-“

“Did. You. Know.”

But his face confesses for you where his words can’t. That’s all it takes for you to break down, falling to your knees with your arms around your head, whimpering not just at the loss of life, but the loss of trust.

“Jagi,” Yoongi tries again, his heart blaring fast in alarm.

“Don’t,” the strength in your voice is gone, but he knows not to say another word.

The tension turns thick, Jungkook mutes the news channel, but the footage of your father’s funeral still plays on the screen for them all to see. Minutes pass, no one daring to speak first. Jin glares at the prince, knowing what emotional turmoil he just put you through, how could he keep this from you? His gaze flickers to Namjoon with even more contempt.

“I have to go back,” you say more to yourself than them, coming to stand on wobbly legs, but your words cut through the silence for them all to hear.

“No,” the prince almost growls at the suggestion, but you look ready to tear him right back, looking like a wounded animal on edge, ready to do whatever to survive.

“You,” that one syllable held more venom than he had ever heard from you, finger pointed like a knife in accusation, “don’t get to decide for me, you don’t get to control me, y-you-“

You can’t help it, your words falter as you break down again, the corners of your sneer weighted down by grief, the bottom lip trembling as the fire in your eyes is drowned out by tears.

“You of all people know what it’s like to be controlled your whole life, and you tried to do that to me.”

Your words hit him, they do, like a truck to the chest, ploughing him down, but he can’t regret his actions, only your sorrow.

“If you go back,” he takes a step towards you. “We,” he points to himself and the rest of inhabitants in the room, “go back.”

He waits for the realisation to pass your eyes, and he knows it’s there as they soften on him for a moment.

“If we go back Jagi,” his voice cracks, hating himself for causing you this pain, but wanting you to listen to him. “We are dead men.”

“I can ex-“

“They won’t wait for an explanation Y/n!” He yells frustrated. “They’ll sentence us to death before we’re questioned, you know how it works! How it really works.”

Your lips quiver as you try to look strong, but everything inside of you is crushed. The hurt clawed its way through your body, reducing you to nothing.

“I should have married him,” you say quietly to yourself but the sincerity in your tone breaks their hearts. You regretted choosing them, choosing your freedom.

“And lived unhappily ever after?” Yoongi scoffs with disgust at the image of you and Wang at the altar.

“And this is better? Letting my country and my people fall into the hands of a psychopath? Be betrayed by men who I thought loved me enough not to lie to me?” you reply, staring despondently at nothing. “I was born with my duty and I have failed it.”

His red rimmed eyes can’t look at you.

“For what?” Your hoarse voice presses, hurting you all. “For something as trivial and fickle as love, the monarchy comes first and I have forgotten my place.”

“Please,” he begs, head hung low as every word you uttered, although right, killed him.

“My father was right.” It was like a final bullet, the harshest slap or ice bucket thrown over him.

You turn to Namjoon.

“If you didn’t love me, would you have let me escape?”

Both your minds go to the night he caught you, the night their feelings were revealed. He thinks it through, understanding his own duty. You stare in silence, his mind calculating, overthinking. There just wasn’t a world that existed in his mind where he didn’t love you, so how could he answer?

“I don’t know,” he confesses sincerely.

“I wish you didn’t,” you breathe. “My father might still be alive.”

“That’s not your fault,” Taehyung says but you shake your head.

What if he died because of you? Because you ran away? The guilt eats away at you, and you know if Yoongi and Namjoon were honest from the beginning you could have accepted it, could have leaned on them for emotional support but now you felt a rift between yourselves that ran too deep to fix. Yet despite that distance that now existed between you, you had no one else to turn to.

“I don’t know what to do,” you sob, looking to them all for guidance. It was ironic that you were now technically queen, and you had no clue, no power, nothing.

They stay silent, solemn as they look to the ground and avoid your gaze.

“Princess there’s nothing we can do,” Jin says softly, not wanting to upset you but unable to feed any fantasy you had of fixing this.

“I can’t leave my people to Taeyeon,”

Yoongi stands in front of you, his eyes piercing into yours, with an anger you couldn’t place.

“They’re not your people anymore,” he says harshly, “you abdicated, this isn’t your problem.”

“Hyung,” Jimin warns him gently, he was pushing it.

You search his eyes, wondering why he was trying to hurt you further, until you realise there was fear he was trying to hide with his wrath.

“You knew when you left, eventually Baekhyun and that psycho bitch would be next in line,” Yoongi continues, ignoring Jimin. “You don’t want that life Y/n.”

A knock on the door snaps everyone’s attention to the sound, the tension not broken but they’re grateful for the pause.

Your new friend enters cautiously, eyes wandering around the room at everyone’s sullen expressions and the endless stream of tears pouring down your face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

“Nym, is everything okay?” Namjoon asks politely, not appreciating the disruption but knowing there wouldn’t be one without good reason.

“I… I did some digging,” Nym breathes nervously, wanting to bolt out of the room with the heaviness in the air but this was important. “The authorities already know something was unusual with the late king’s passing so-“

“You knew too?” The sting of betrayal had you interrupting before you could stop yourself. You were stuck on this island and you thought you could run to your friend’s place for help when the conversation was over but now you truly had nowhere to turn to. This paradise had turned into a prison, they weren’t going to let you leave.

Nym looks at you sadly, apologising silently hoping what was uncovered with a week of no sleep would earn your forgiveness.

“I thought hard about what I could do to help, and I think I have something.”

“What is it?” Hoseok asks.

“The authorities know there’s something odd about the King’s passing, but Prince Baekhyun and his wife closed any investigation, so I did some digging,” Nym explains, feeling the intensity of everyone’s stares, no one breathed. “I…”

She pauses, looking at you wondering whether it was right to just lay everything out on the table, but how can something so destructive be cushioned. Namjoon’s eyes glance towards the laptop in the computer genius’s arms.

“What did you find?” you barely whisper.

“She didn’t cover her tracks very well,” Nym replies, hesitating. “I don’t think you should see this.”

“Taehyung and Jimin, maybe your should take Y/n-”

“No,” you interrupt, the hell were they going to discuss this without you, that was what caused this fucking problem in the first place. “Show me.”

Your eyes don’t implore your friend, they demand authority and everyone in the room understands why you deserve your title, blood had nothing to do with it. The laptop is placed on the table, everyone’s eyes glued to the screen.

“The Imperial castle has two sets of security cameras, someone hacked into them to erase everything the night of your fathers death,” Nym explains. “It took a week but I recovered them.”

“How did he die?” Jin asks what you couldn't stomach asking.

“The official story is he mixed medication with alcohol and…” there's a pause for concern over your wellbeing, but you were done with walking around eggshells, they were all broken anyway.

“Say it,” you beg.

“He fell down the Castle stairs,” Nym says, watching your reaction cautiously, “there was a dent on his head that was unexplainable with the fall, but they think he might’ve bumped it on something given his state. They blamed the security camera malfunction on the storm.”

“And what actually happened?” Namjoon asks.

“Just play the footage Nym,” you say, it didn’t matter anyway, what was done was done, what you wanted was the truth.

After a deep breath, Nym presses play, the screen is grainy at first but clears. Your father comes into the frame, obviously heavily intoxicated with someone pushing him from behind. Whoever it was, wears a ski mask, looking around on edge. There’s a glint of metal in their hand that you can’t make out but it’s pressed against his back. After a stumble, he trips on the ground, and the masked figure tries to pull him up. They get into a tussle, your father grabbing the individual but only able to pull off the balaclava. Your breath catches as you recognise her, and now the object in her grasp. You jump when the pistol is slammed against his skull, and he’s pulled to his feet. He’s disorientated, clutching his head in his hands before he’s pushed to the stairs. You close your eyes, knowing what was about to happen, and you thought you could stomach it but you can’t. Arms wrap around you, someone strokes your hair. You bury your head into his chest, knowing it was Taehyung who had come to comfort you from the most abhorrent scene you ever had to witness.

“I’m so sorry Y/n,” Nym says sincerely as you muffle your cries.

—

They sit in silence once Nym leaves, the hours tick by with you sitting on the ottoman alone, too quiet, too stoic, too deep in thought. No one dares to break it first, no one dares to move, scared that the already fragile state of your being could shatter more than it already had. There was no coming back from this, that was the fear, no recovering.

The footage would be released with your permission, it would solve the issue of letting the psychopath sit in your throne, and yet there was another fear in the room. The proof of your father’s murder didn’t solve everything.

“I’m going back,” you say calmly.

“But-“

“You’re not coming with me,” you don’t mean it in a cruel way but it still breaks their hearts. “I have a role I was born to serve, a people who need a queen they can trust, not some relative who thought they were safe from ever having to wear the crown.”

“But we’re happy here,” Jimin says with wobbling lips, eyes and nose streaming.

“Why can’t we come with you?” Jungkook cries.

“Because for right or wrong reasons, the government will still have you tried for concealing my whereabouts without consulting the royal guards,” you state, hating the matter of fact but you couldn’t risk their safety. “Rules are rules, and no matter what story we spin, we still broke the law.”

“You’re going to leave us?” Hoseok asks in disbelief. “After everything.”

You bite your lip hard to stop your eyes watering but it doesn’t work. This would be the hardest thing you would do but it needed to be done.

“Not forever,” you promise, voice hoarse and heavy. “But until I can clear your name and guarantee your safety, this will have to be goodbye.”

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head, his arms crossed, his eyes closed as if that would protect him and stop everything.

“You and I both know what happens if you come back with me Yoongi,” you sniff. “If you get imprisoned in my country, the repercussions will be war and you know it.”

“What if we go back to our country?” Hoseok suggests, “Yoongi’s uncle might be able to liaise with little Queen’s government and clear our name.”

“There’s no guarantee that would work,” Namjoon sighs, massaging his head with his fingers as he tries to solve this impossible conundrum. Politics was more complicated than chess, it was like playing on a board 50 times the size with a thousand more unique pieces.

“Not to mention what Y/n’s government will force her to do in return for clearing our name,” Yoongi seethes, finally looking at you with a sad anger welling his eyes. “What if they ask you to marry Wang like your father proposed, to honour his wishes and get whatever deal he was offered by selling your hand in marriage.”

“That’s not how it works,” Tae says in disbelief, looking between you and Yoongi waiting for someone to reassure him you wouldn’t become a pawn for your country. You only look at him sadly in reply.

“One problem at a time please,” Jin mutters, catching Namjoon’s headache.

“Please don’t go back,” Jimin begs, the palm of his hands covering his eyes as he sobbed. This was so cruel, that they finally got to taste a life with you in their arms for only seconds before you were taken away.

“What if Princess married Hyung?” Jungkook suggests desperately, but the question makes you burst more into tears, your head tilted to the ceilings as you try to stop.

“She can’t get married without the permission of the courts,” Namjoon says solemnly, head hanging low. “And Yoongi Hyung’s uncle would never agree, there’s too much bad blood.”

“He barely agreed to let Yoongi become little queen’s guard,” Jin remembers out loud.

Yoongi shakes his head. He hated this, the fact his blood had a say in his life, ruled it without thought to what he wanted.

“If my father was king he would have allowed it,” Yoongi admits, for years he prayed his uncle would sire offspring so the crown would never fall on him, now he was second guessing his wishes.

You both look at eachother, another life flashing before your eyes, one so out of reach it was more of a fantasy than a dream. You still held a resentment for his actions, but the concept of leaving him overcast everything. You understood it to some extent but you truly didn’t know whether you could forgive him.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say, “right now it doesn’t change anything.”

He hangs his head in shame, knowing he really fucked up beyond repair.

Your attention shifts to Namjoon as he kneels in front of you, the equation in his head starting to solve itself. His eyes implore into yours, the rest of the group fade to the background when he takes your hands into his, his warm touch soothing you.

“You always said growing up royal was awful,” He starts cautiously, not wanting to cause any more problems or misunderstandings. “There were too many rules, too many restrictions, too many classes on how to behave.”

You nod as you take in his words, wondering where he was going with this.

“Your father pushed you away, there's a history of that you know,” he informs you. “The first heir is always treated differently, the spare is raised with less restraint, they say the prospect of raising a child who is set to replace you throughout time has caused parental rifts.”

“Where are you going with this Joonie?” you ask, he smiles apologetically, the tangent was somewhat an accident to avoid a harsh truth he needed to reveal.

“If you go back, your whole life is decided for you, Queen of a country or not, the government will set your alliance to someone they see fit, you will be expected to have two children, at least, and then they will be subjected to everything you did growing up.”

You stare at him. The thought had crossed your mind before but you always swore you would do better. The reason your father was so harsh on you was he couldn’t have a spare, your mother died too soon after your birth. You were it, he drilled that into you from day one.

“I can protect them,” you say weakly, tears starting again when Joon shakes his head in disagreement.

“I know you’ll fight Y/n, but it would be you against a hundred officials, you tried to fight your father and you couldn’t and every one of those officials were behind him in his decision.”

“Joon,” you cry, wanting him to stop. His hand squeezes yours, the other wiping away the teardrops gently trying to cushion his words.

“To the world, you are so privileged, and part of that is true, but they haven’t seen you suffer like we have, and I hate to think about how much you suffered before meeting us.”

You sniff, looking around the room at the rest of them looking so downtrodden, your eyes falling last on Yoongi who wipes his tears before they can fall. Yoongi, who understood you through experience, who you connected with the moment you met.

“You guys are the best thing that ever happened to me,” you tell them truthfully, “I don’t want to go back without you, but I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”

“It’s your decision little Queen,” Hoseok steps forward, smiling sadly but knowing how hard this was for you. “We’ll support you no matter what.”

The younger three glare at him for that comment, the others hanging their heads low as if in prayer.

“Whatever happens,” Jin agrees, “you always have our love and support Princess.”

“Please,” Yoongi begs quietly, his face scrunched in pain as he cries openly. The sight breaks your heart all over again, you really did hate seeing him in pain.

—

“After the tribulations and trials of our beloved royal family, I think the country can say this is a monumental event in history. Like treachery out of a mediaeval plot, today also marks the one month anniversary of the death of our late king, murdered by the wife of his nephew in a scheme for the crown.

Of course this plot was unveiled by his daughter, who at the time fled the country for her safety, but returned to ensure the safety of her people and bring Kim Taeyeon to justice.”

Sadness sat like stones in their stomachs, sinking slowly as your face graced the screen. You smile but they know it doesn’t reach your eyes, you wave to the crowd and the cameras before climbing into the carriage off to the citadel for your coronation.

“She looks so beautiful,” Taehyung mumbles, in awe of your figure in the red ruby gown. He blinks back tears, your absence didn’t get any easier for them, and seeing you on a screen just cemented the fact you were no longer here.

“I can’t believe she went back,” Jin whispers to himself but the others hear. They also hear his unsaid words hiding between the lines, you chose duty over them, the irony was hard to ignore. You always thought they would do the same.

“Of course the matter still remains about the young Queen’s foreign bodyguards who’s current whereabouts are unknown. There is massive divide in the country and government over the actions of Kim Namjoon and his men, one of whom is the current Prince of another nation. There are calls for their presence in the court, others are demanding they receive the medal of valour, and during a recent official press conference this is what our new Queen had to say…”

The screen shifts to you at a podium, cameras and lights flashing on your form as you look at your paper. They hadn’t seen the footage yet but the date stamp on the footage showed it was from a few days ago. Jungkook holds his breath, waiting for you to speak, it felt like a lifetime ago that he heard your voice.

“I understand there is a lot of speculation over my disappearance, and rumours that I was abducted by the men sworn to protect me.”

The youngest can’t help sniffling at the sound, he misses you and the feeling opened new excruciating wounds in him where he thought there was room for no more.

“I am here to clear any misunderstanding over the events of the last month or so. This accusation has put to question the character of the men my own father, the late king, employed and I can say one thing for certain with absolute conviction…”

You take a pause, looking up at the cameras as if staring into each of their souls. They can see the longing in your eyes, the tears forming that you blink away, a moment of weakness that you had to hide.

“Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin… Min Yoongi,” you take a breath as if his name pained you. “Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Jung Jungkook are the best men I have ever met, and they saved my life, and any call for their imprisonment is a crime against the crown and against me. I will do everything in my power to clear their names, and have them return. Our relations with King Min must remain peaceful, and I will not have my country tarnish their character and cause unrest between two nations.

My first act on the throne will be to resolve any remaining issues between our countries and draw up a new treaty with King Min, and I know my people will stand with me. Thank you.”

“She’s gonna do it,” Namjoon says quietly but proudly, smiling sadly when he sees the resolve on your face as you start answering press questions. “It’ll take some time but we’ll be by her side again.”

The room is quiet as they watch the footage change back to your coronation, all of them swallowing back tears with heavy hearts. They wished they could be standing there beside you, but one day they knew they would be again, no matter how long it took.

There are cheers coming from the crowds as the crown is placed on your head, you take a deep breath that they can all see, a smile to the people but your eyes are glassy.

“Our beautiful little Queen,” Jimin says in awe, tears slipping that he can’t help.

“I know she’ll be the best Queen in the world but I’m so anxious for her,” Jin breathes, his heart nervous for you.

“I wish we were there,” Hoseok whispers.

“She shouldn’t be there,” Yoongi says solemnly, standing. “She should be here with us.”

The others watch him walk out of the room, the prince had fallen into a deep stoic state, they just hope the hurt would fade with time. You carved out Yoongi’s soul the day you left, they could only pray he would find himself again.

—

You don’t know how you managed to give your new staff the slip, you had paid the driver off with enough money that he couldn’t refuse, despite what your advisors and the government officials tried to stop you from doing.

You knew it would bring you nothing but more grief, but you had to. You could already hear Namjoon berating you, it almost makes you smile before you remember why you’re here. You’re glad to see the tower is cold and depressing as promised, the criminals in here were all in treachery of the crown.

The guards all gave you worried looks as you demanded to see her, and there she stood in the last cell, trapped behind metal bars finally looking like the madness she held within. Her hair stood on end, a nest of knots that could never be undone, much like the chaos she caused in your life.

She sees you, and now you really do smile vindictively when her eyes travel down the length of your coronation gown before fixing themselves on the crown that sat where it belonged. She growls, her teeth baring in disgust and hate you never witnessed before.

She presses herself against the metal, reaching for you as if she could snatch all her wants within her grasp.

“You abdicated, that crown is mine!”

It was strange, confronting her like this. Almost surreal, the concept that this was the woman you befriended, the woman who failed in killing you, and the woman who murdered your father. There was no denying it, you saw it for yourself.

“Why couldn’t you just stay away?” she has the gall to sob, to truly cry over her loss as if she was the victim, and you knew then there was no hope for her, not that you would ever offer it to her in the first place.

You shake your head in disbelief, a humourless laugh before you take a step closer, wanting no one but her to hear your words.

“You know what?” You start, voice quiet but unwavering. “If you had just left everything well enough alone, I wouldn’t be here, if you didn’t let your greed become so heinous it cost a man his life, eventually you could’ve worn this crown and I would have let you.”

She screams, the sound making you want to slap some sense into her.

“But your actions have cost so many people in so many ways,” you say sadly, not an ounce of sympathy for her, but for yourself as selfish as that might sound. “I can see now there’s no saving you.”

“That crown is mine! THAT CROWN IS MINE!” She repeats it as if it would become true, getting louder and louder as you stare.

“You killed my father you psychotic bitch,” you spit, but there was no point to this, there would be no real justice for her actions, and she would never regret them. You wonder what closure you were trying to gain by being here, there was nothing you could do to make her feel your pain.

—

“Your majesty,” your new personal advisor bids your farewell. You had moved to the cold imperial castle, the official site for the monarch. The day had cost you all your energy and you could barely bring yourself to climb the stairs to your new chamber. You try to ignore the urge to glance towards where you know they found your father’s body, the hurt of losing him still fresh despite the strain of your relationship with him. You push away the thoughts to deal with another time.

Your jaw hurts from forcing your face to smile all day for the public eye, as you get ready for bed the deep empty void in your chest gets filled with pangs of sadness so intense you have to stop and breathe for a moment. You had kept it subdued all day for duty, but it came back with a vengeance.

You were now Queen, and completely utterly unfathomably alone. The thought grips you so painfully in the silenve you can’t help the sob that turns into a wail. There was no one here to comfort you, no one to hear you yet you still covered your cries with your hand, sinking pitifully to the floor.

The agony of leaving them didn’t fade for a day. You forgave Yoongi and Namjoon the second you returned to this awful cage, wanting to regret leaving them but there was nothing you could do about your decision now. You knew what Yoongi was trying to protect you from, there was no malice in his actions, just desperation that undid you both. You walked back into the life you tried to escape, and lost far more than you could ever explain.

In truth you didn’t know whether you would see them again, whether you would win the fight to clear their name. You would never give up, you couldn’t, the only thing that kept you going was getting them back, otherwise this was going to be a long lonely purgatory for you without them.

“Min Yoongi I forgive you,” you barely breathe out loud, needing him to hear you no matter how impossible. You knew him better than you knew yourself, knew he needed to hear those words for his own peace, or he would never forgive himself. You knew what state you left him in, and that one thing was your biggest regret.

180 notes · View notes