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hazel-writes · 4 years ago

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Summary: A much-needed moment of calm... Are you ready for the storm?

Word Count: 3,400

Warnings: mentions of violence, injury description

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

I spoke about wings

You just flew

I wondered, I guessed, and I tried

You just knew

I sighed, but you swooned

I saw the crescent

But you saw the whole of the moon

• The Whole of the Moon - The Waterboys •

You sat on top of a small hill that overlooked a valley of swaying grass. There weren’t many trees, just a sea of undulating ferns. You looked to the ground on your left and right, noticing that you had chosen a spot at the center of a patch of green daisies. Of course. You laughed humorlessly, looking up to the sky and shaking your head, as silent tears began to fall.

Daisy.

That was what your father called you, ever since you were little. He would often paint landscapes and was inspired by the entrancing wildlife that was native to Lothal. One of his favorite flowers was the green daisy you were currently surrounded by. You remembered the first time your father showed you them.

“These flowers are special,” he told you one day, pointing out a patch of small green plants while out on a walk.

You squinted at the seemingly-mundane bulbs emerging from the grass.

“They don’t look very special,” you replied skeptically.

He smiled, like he knew something you didn’t. He leaned down to whisper in your ear: “That’s because you aren’t looking hard enough.”

Taking the challenge, you focused on the closest green bulb, following its curved stem down to the fertile dirt it lied in. You traced every line, rip, and crevice in its leaves. Some of the grass around it was crushed into the soil — covered in mud — most likely trampled by wandering loth-cats. But the daisy’s bulb remained a strong, healthy green.

This little plant has survived so much, you thought.

And suddenly, as if it heard you, the daisy bloomed right before your eyes, revealing a magnificent green flower. It was an enchanting emerald hue, like your father’s eyes.

“How-” you began to ask.

Your father chuckled. “The green daisy responds to body heat and breath. When someone gets close enough to truly appreciate its beauty, it blooms. Very few ever stop to notice how special this flower is, but when they do, they are greatly rewarded.”

He paused for a moment, staring directly into your eyes while tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“My little daisy...”

It had been three days since you’d been shot. The team you arrived with on Lothal had to extend their stay on the planet due to a mechanical malfunction on one of the ships. You had almost made it out of the city before the ship’s engines failed and you were forced to turn back.

Your father’s blaster beam had grazed a good part of your arm, with most of the damage being at your shoulder. It had come close to hitting vital organs, but thankfully missed. Finn didn’t get so lucky; he was still in critical condition. You waited by his side for as long as you could until Akilah forced you out of the room so you could get some rest. You knew that wouldn’t be possible until Finn was out of the woods, so you decided to take a walk to clear your head. That’s how you ended up crying on a grassy hill, surrounded by the familiar green daisies.

Attempting to distract yourself from your own feelings, you pulled out your sketchbook. It had been a while since you drew for yourself, but when you were younger it always seemed to ease your anxiety. You shuffled through the bag you brought, finally managing to find a pen. You swapped it into the fingers of your bandaged right arm before attempting to sketch. As soon as you did, pain shot through your tendons. I really didn’t think that through, did I?

Now you weren’t even able to do the one thing that made you happy. You threw your pen backwards over your shoulder, frustrated.

A voice cleared from behind you, making you jump.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You turned to see the Commander, fully robed, behind you. His dark attire stood out against the setting sun behind him, creating a glowing aura around his form. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t realize you were there.”

“So you weren’t throwing projectiles at me on purpose?” he questioned, gesturing to the pen that laid at his feet.

“Kriff, no, sorry.” You shook your head in panic before realising he was messing with you. You chuckled, surprised at his unusual attempt at a joke. “I was just doodling… Or trying to at least.”

He nodded, moving to stand beside you. After a moment of silence, you heard the click of something decompressing as his helmet thudded into the grass. He took in a deep breath of air, his shoulders moving upwards tensely before relaxing again. He tilted his face into the wind, closing his eyes briefly as if taking in the serenity of the moment, before his gaze shifted down towards your bandage. “Your arm…”

You twisted the limb around, testing its range of motion. “It’s fine, I’ll just have to learn to use my left.”

His eyebrows furrowed in response, as if doubting your answer, before speaking again. “Your father-” he started.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you interrupted, a bit harsher than you intended. You sighed, brushing a wisp of hair off of your face. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I just want to forget. For a little while at least.”

He turned to look at you, a slight crease on his forehead. “I understand.” He turned back to the sky. “I’ve had encounters with my kin that I wish to forget as well.”

A surge of sadness ran through your body; conflicting waves of guilt, fear, and helplessness crashing into the corners of your mind. You shook your head, trying to relieve the pressure you knew was emitting from the stoic man standing next to you.

You wanted desperately to ask about his family: who they were, where they were now, why they caused such pain. But just like the Commander had respected your need for privacy, you would respect his.

You were surprised when you saw his black cloak move to sit next to you on the grassy hill. It was strange seeing the Commander in an environment so different from the Finalizer. But something about the way his hands slid so naturally into the grass, or the way his feet stretched out in front of him, or how his hair flowed gently in the breeze, made you think that maybe this wasn’t so unfamiliar to him after all.

The two of you sat like that for a while, taking in the day around you. The sky was a brilliant blue with the beginnings of a deep purple at the horizon, something you didn’t see too often on Lothal. Usually the color of the sky melted into that of the fields, mirroring the landscape’s golden curves. But today was different. Birds chirped and flew overhead, a gentle breeze blew, and the air smelled of flowers and fresh soil.

Succumbing to the beauty of your surroundings, you laid back in the soft grass. You watched as a single bird dipped in the air high above you, circling the clouds in a soaring dance.

“I wish I could do that.”

The Commander turned to look at you, confused.

“I wish I could fly.”

He chuckled in response, a toothy smile gracing your presence briefly before quickly concealing itself with a squint towards the sky. You were pleased to see the ghost of a smirk remain and you couldn’t help it as the corners of your own mouth twisted upwards. You brought yourself onto your elbows, looking at him expectantly.

Seeing your questioning look, he shook his head. “No, it’s nothing… It’s just — I remember saying something similar as a boy.”

You smiled, laying back in the grass and returning your eyes to the sky. You stayed like this for a moment, carefully forming a question.

“Where would you go? If you could fly, I mean,” you clarified.

He shrugged and responded simply. “I have all the ships I could ask for. I could fly anywhere.”

You tried to imagine him leaving the Finalizer, taking off in a ship, flying to some distant planet with no people, no politics, no wars: just peace. Hux would never allow it, and you guessed that whoever the Commander answered to wouldn’t either.

“But you wouldn’t,” you replied out loud, a twinge of sadness in your voice.

“No,” he said, his voice lowering. “I wouldn’t.”

You hummed to yourself, thinking deeply. “I guess that’s the difference between birds and ships. Birds are born free. Their wings aren’t man made; it’s simply in their nature to fly. But when you put humans in the sky, they tear it apart. We fill it with blaster fire and explosions. We destroy the lands that we never should’ve left in the first place.” You sighed. “Even the birds won’t be free for much longer…”

The Commander turned towards you again. You expected him to tell you that you were wrong — that the wars were necessary, inevitable even — but he didn’t. Instead he blinked once before pointing up at the bird you referenced earlier.

“It’s a convor,” he said quietly.

“W-what?” Now it was your turn to be confused.

“I’m surprised to see one here — they’re not native to this planet.”

“Oh,” you replied, the light returning to your eyes. This was a new side of the Commander, one that you had only seen glimpses of in the past; one that was patient, vulnerable, and had an unusual, yet endearing, knowledge of birds.

“They are known for their strong connections to the Force,” he continued. “Can you feel it?”

You looked back up at the bird. Its golden brown feathers soared elegantly in the wind. Its dramatic tail rippled like an unfurling ribbon, slicing through the air. A familiar tingle made itself known at the back of your neck, spreading down your spine all the way to your toes.

“Yeah, I can,” you said, breathless. You didn’t know that so many species could have connections to the Force. “It’s amazing.”

“Yes,” he responded, eyes trained directly on you. “It is.”

You didn’t notice his head jerk away when you turned your body towards his.

Taking advantage of the lull in the conversation, you decided to ask him something that had been on your mind since the shootout with your father.

“Ky-” you started, before correcting yourself. “Commander. What happens when we get back to the Finalizer?”

He tilted his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

You were suddenly nervous and began to twirl a piece of grass between your fingers. You thought about what Finn had told you when you first arrived on Lothal: how you always seemed to be at the center of trouble. A pang of guilt ran through your body. “I mean… What do I say about my arm, or Finn? Won’t they be suspicious?”

The muscles of the Commander’s face tightened. “Won’t who be suspicious?”

“I dunno…” you trailed off, but could tell that he was waiting for a more specific answer. “Hux?”

He scoffed, clenching his fingers into a gloved fist. “You don’t have to worry about Hux. He is under my command, and I’ll make sure he remembers that.”

“But what about the person you’re under command? Will he be able to… sense that something happened here?” The questions spilled out before you could stop them.

He paused, longer than you would’ve liked, before looking at you as if he was about to tell you something of the utmost importance. “He won’t hurt you.”

The Commander’s strange tone did little to ease your anxiety; it was evasive, yet stern enough that you believed him.

You shifted to a sitting position, legs crossed under you. You fiddled with your fingers in your lap. “That’s- that’s not what I’m worried about.”

He tipped his head slightly. “So what are you worried about?”

“Well…” you paused, almost reconsidering what you were about to say. “You.”

It was true. As strange as it sounded coming out of your mouth, you were worried what others would think if they knew the Commander abandoned his duties to help some artist with her family drama. What would they do if they knew he had shown mercy to a man who tried to kill him? What if they found out that he had been training you in secret, or that he let you see his face: the one that now searched yours curiously.

It looked like the Commander wanted to say something, but instead his mouth moved to form a thin line. He stood up suddenly, forcing you to angle your head in order to meet his eyes.

“We should get back to the ships,” he said monotonously.

You cleared your throat, finally finding your voice. “Yeah, right. Y-you go first. Probably shouldn’t be seen together.”

He nodded, staring at you a moment longer before turning to pick up his helmet. Just as you thought he was about to leave, you watched out of the corner of your eye as he bent over, picking something up off of the ground. He reached out and you realised he had your pen in his hand, the one you had tossed at him earlier.

You reached forward to grab the pen with your bandaged hand, but before you were able to, he gently grasped your arm instead.

“What are you-” you started, before you felt it: a warmth spreading up your arm, wrapping its tendrils around your injured muscle and bone, filling each wounded crevice of your previously painful limb until it was restored to its normal state.

“What did you do?” you barely whispered, staring at your upper arm in shock. His hand slid off your skin, leaving a cold tingling in its wake.

He rose back to his commanding stature nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened. However as he responded, you didn’t miss the slight falter in his voice. “I- I’ll see you back on board.”

And with that, he put on his helmet and began the trek back down the hill.

——————————————

After waiting fifteen minutes, it was your turn to head back down the hill. You walked back through the city one last time, retracing the steps you took earlier when putting up the posters with Koda and Rilea. You tried to take everything in as you made your way to the ship — who knows when you’d be back on Lothal again. But with each forward step, you began to realize that the busy streets, rolling fields, and the childhood house you used to call home now felt so distant, so foreign. You didn’t belong here anymore.

The hushed chattering of a small group of villagers, almost invisible in the shadow of a nearby building, interrupted you from your thoughts. It wasn’t until you moved closer that you realized they were huddled around one of the posters you had put up earlier. One of them held a light up to it, inspecting something on the bottom right-hand corner of the paper.

A couple of other passerbys curiously lingered, trying to figure out what the group was so intrigued by.

You suddenly felt a presence at your side and you turned to see an older man who was attempting to peak over the shoulders of the group in front of him. “What’s going on?” he asked you.

“I…” You paused for a moment, thinking. “I have no idea,” you replied as confidently as you could.

But that was a lie.

You knew exactly why the small group of Lothalians were crowded around the poster.

The poster that you designed. The poster that Soren let you put finishing touches on before it was sent off for approval. The poster that you were intent on distributing yesterday, even after everyone else had gone back to the ship. The poster that wasn’t just a poster: It was a message.

And it was one that you wrote.

———————————————

Six months previously…

“Mom, I can’t.”

You stood at the kitchen window, looking out at the houses beyond — the ones you had grown up seeing every day, the ones you didn’t want to leave behind.

An apprehensive hand rested on your shoulder. “Sweetheart, you’re the only one I can trust.”

You spun around, indignant tears at the corners of your eyes. “So what, you’re sending me off so I can end up just like Benji, dead in a ditch somewhere?”

She sighed, shaking her head dismissively. “Honey, you know that was a freak accident. There was a-”

“Malfunction with the engines, I know.” A single tear fell. You wiped it away briskly while turning back to the window.

She waited a moment, letting your bout of anger simmer, before speaking again — softer this time. “I know you could do it. You could save us all.”

Sighing, you decided to indulge her pleas. If there was one thing you and you mother shared, it was stubbornness. “What would I have to do?”

“Only exactly what you’re good at: art.” You rolled your eyes after hearing the excitement in her voice.

“Yeah, right,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s the catch?”

She paused for a moment, as if trying to figure out how to explain what she was going to tell you next. “You would need to hide things in your work.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What kind of things?”

“Messages.”

This caught your attention; now you were genuinely intrigued.

“Messages?” you questioned. “To who?”

“To me and the rest of the Resistance.”

You ran a frustrated hand through your hair. Your mom had always wanted you to work alongside her with the Resistance, but until now, you had managed to evade the subject whenever it came up. What you really wanted was to do what your dad did: travel the galaxy, paint what you saw, and die a lonely, but happy hermit in a small cottage by the sea. But as you got older, with the rising of the First Order, you began to realize that there may not be a galaxy left by the time you were old enough to settle down somewhere. Maybe this was something that you needed to do.

“How?”

Your mom nodded, a proud smile emerging on her face. “I’ve talked to Leia Organa. She had one of her men get your name on the Order’s recruits list. The position is within the Office of Imperial Promotion, Galactic Truth, and Fact Correction. They’re looking for someone to aid in the creation and distribution of First Order propaganda posters. You would simply have to listen — walk the hallways, gain others’ trust, find information about the Order — and then put what you learn into the posters. Once they’re distributed, Resistance members will scope ‘em out and report back to us.”

The whole plan sounded ridiculous. “Mom, you can’t honestly think they’d fall for that. Hidden messages? It’s something a kid would think of.”

She shook her head knowingly. “That’s what makes it so genius. Everyone expects a spy to try and wiggle their way into the top ranks of the Order. But no one will suspect an artist. Plus, you would be using this.” She handed you a pen. “Anything you write with this will only be visible under a certain light frequency. The Order won’t see a thing.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “So that’s what I am now, a spy?”

“No,” she responded sternly. “You’re an artist; you always have been. An artist who can save the Resistance with her work.” She paused, looking at you with a glint in her eye that you knew meant she was serious. “Kriff, you could save the whole galaxy with just a few strokes of a pen.”

You felt yourself conceding, even though you knew you had lost the argument the moment it had started. “You really think this could make any kind of difference?”

She took both of your hands in hers. “I know it could.”

Wordlessly, you shot her a final look that warned: whatever happens, it’s on you. She seemed to understand the meaning behind your stare and gave a nearly imperceptible nod.

“Then I’ll do it.”

———————————

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heroineimages · 4 years ago

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Total War(rior) Queens

So contrary to what I thought in my post about my Iceni campaign, I do, in fact, have Queen Boudica of the Iceni as a character in my faction. No idea how she’s alive in 141 BC, but whatever. The only reason I know this is because I apparently unlocked an achievement by winning a battle with her. Here she marches to war beside her shieldmaiden girlfriends, deep into the Fertile Crescent of Mesopotamia (no joke!). Kudos to Creative Assembly for having the guts to include her and other real-life badass warrior queens.

Queen Teuta of Illyria is the starting leader for the Ardiaei in the Grand Campaign. She was the driving force in my conquests of Greece in my Ardiaei campaign, conquering even Athens and Sparta before she passed away from old age. Historically she was more of a pirate queen than a warrior queen, raiding all along the Adriatic Coast and as far south as Sicily. Her fleets amassed the largest pirate treasure in Mediterranean history---a particularly impressive feat, given the Med’s history of piracy. But thanks to misogynist historians, she’s still a relatively unknown figure historically, despite all this.

Nubian Queen Shanakdakhete of Kush also makes an appearance in the Grand Campaign, here perched at the head of her army with her squad of war elephants. Little is known about her from our surviving sources, but she lived during the reign of the Ptolemy Dynasty in Egypt, and likely would have butted heads with them, politically or militarily. In my campaign, she helped wipe them out after her predecessors drove them from Egypt.

Pharaoh Cleopatra VII (yes, that Cleopatra) is head of the Ptolemy faction in the Imperator Augustus campaign. Too often considered little more than a temptress to two Roman blowhards, Cleopatra led troops into battle, first against her quarrelsome relatives, later against the enemies of Rome, as their client monarch. In my campaign, she is currently Empress of Rome, controlling all of Egypt, Lepidus’s holdings in Africa, and most of Italy including Rome itself.

The Empire Divided Campaign, meanwhile, gives us Queen Zenobia at the head of the Palmyran legions. By all accounts except Emperor Aurelian’s, Zenobia was a strong war leader and savvy politician. She took advantage of Roman civil strife to conquer Syria, Egypt, and parts of Asia Minor from the Romans, battling Aurelian’s armies quite nearly to a standstill before her defeat. I’ve played two campaigns with her, sacking Rome in both of them and instating Zenobia as Empress of Rome.

#Total War: Rome 2 #Queen Boudica #Queen Teuta #Shanakdakhete #Cleopatra VII #Queen Zenobia #history's heroines #warrior queens #pirate queens #screencaps #discussion

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scriptaed · 5 years ago

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a lion’s gilded tooth 01. (m)

genre: angst; fluff; mature content; soulmates!au; dystopia!au;

characters: jimin x reader x hoseok;

length: 11.7k;

synopsis: in a secluded village of 500, the concept of soulmates is used as a mere means for survival and reproduction. when classmates mysteriously disappear and the future with your first childhood love is threatened under the hands of fate on mating day, your once peaceful life begins spiraling into chaos. now, the only hope to unveil the truths behind humanity’s purpose lies in the secrets of the village and its magical ruins.

“Client 151019, please head up to Counter 190525. Again, Client 151019, please head up to Counter 190525.”

The monotonous voice of a familiar female authority echoes incessantly across the vast room—lifeless and desultory, yet at the same time, ever the more daunting. It's a scene every child has witnessed from the lips of their very own mother, the very year in which a child's wildest imaginations crumbled under the confines of the world's creeping ends. The entirety of adolescence spent outside roaming about in the fields, harvesting the appropriate assets for a befitting pair of viable individuals, enduring the lectures of very adult in the village whom had warned you to take Mating Day seriously—none of the eighteen years would ever be enough preparation for anyone to fulfill their sole purpose of fertility.

The white tiles lining the floor cut by dozens upon dozens of black and red lines of tape running in every which way reflect an unpleasant flood of light from its similarly white-coated ceiling. The stark contrast of the numerous rows of black chairs organized into three sections across the room were impossible to miss in the mostly monochromatic room. You had heard countless rumors from school regarding the haunting cold air of this room, but myths tend to exist on the sole vitality of a teen's fleeting attention span; this time, however, experience has proven you wrong. Three hours of sitting in this room was enough to send you longing for the earthy vibrancy of your rural village—the eye-soothing tones of the grass, the scent of wood freshly dampened by the rain the night before, and the familiar back of his as he frolicked through the meadows with your hand in his.

Please prepare two forms of photo identification and the appropriate documents...

Chills ricochet down your spine and manifest into waves that flood your extremities, where your fingertips fidgeted with the metallic underside of your uniform black seat. The short-lived breath of wind as people bustled about before you in an effort to reach their respective destinations didn't help to cease the growing pain of anxiety mixed with a touch if adrenaline burrowed within your chest.

...to ensure a quick and easy check-in. Your cooperation is greatly appreciated.

The sole source of sanity keeping you from screaming at the eeriness of the woman’s directions is the remaining constant in the entirety of your livelihood… him.

When he rests his hands upon yours, the warmth wades you gently through the directionless waves toward reality; and when you lift your gaze to find him grinning at you with that oh-so-familiar soft smile of his, you’re once again left assured, for you know what lies on the other end of tomorrow's testament of fate.

You’ve always known.

"Hey, baby, you okay?" his voice cooed as he strokes your head with a prolonged kiss to your temple; with each of his electric touches against your bare skin, the blinding white of the lights disintegrates into reality.

You blink slowly, once and twice, until the curve of a grin belonging to the longtime beholder of your affections elicits a skip in tempo against your chest; and before you know it, as if ingrained into your very blueprint, your hands lift to cup his dewy cheek as your thumb runs along his plump, bottom lip. The crescents of his eyes thin even more so, weak with endearment under the embrace of his love.

It’s just as the legends say: the finding of a soulmate is enough to stop even the infinite magnitudes of time itself.

“What do you mean, Jimin,” you let out a nervous laugh, “I’m fine. It’s just that this room is… sort of sucking the life out of me.”

The boy frowns when his hand lays over your cold ones on his cheek, “are you sure? I can always grab a permit from Mr. Wang and see Dr. Li with you.”

“I’m fine, Jimin. Every teacher and nurse in this village will be onto us if you don’t stop overreacting to my every drop in temperature,” your joke incites a pout from him. “Plus, what in the world do I have to be scared of when I have you right here—”

“—booooo,” an irking voice hollers from the row of chairs across you. The sheepish giggles from Jimin morphs into a series of cackling, his head thrown back and his hands cover his burning cheeks in embarrassment; whereas you, on the other hand, shoot an unapologetic glare at the boy who just shrugs. With arms spread over the empty chairs beside him, one over the shoulder of a girl, who noticeably fails to hide the lift on the corner of her lips, the boy persists in his antics, “I didn’t sign up to watch this lovesick fest, so at least give me some drama! Fight or something!”

“Fight?” you ask rhetorically but his smile only widens along with his eyes.

“Yeah, slap each other or something! God, do you guys ever fight?”

“Okay, I don’t know about you and Soyeon, but Jimin and I never fight,” you cross your arms and Jimin wraps an arm over your shoulder, gaze fixated on you with a sweet smile to cheer you on while Hoseok pretends to vomit to the side. “I guess we know which couple is breaking up on Mating Day.”

The couple before you shifts uncomfortably in the lack of a quick rebuttal, particularly Soyeon, whose glance darts to the floor in shambles, and you begin to wonder if you had taken it too far—that is, until Jung Hoseok opens his big mouth again.

“Tch, not us,” he scoffs, the intense gaze of his challenges you to a silent duel of grit, “because at least we’re not acting all lovey-dovey out in the open. If anything, I’m betting the teachers will split you up before tomorrow morning even arrives—”

—and you snap.

“Oh, that’s some big talk, especially coming from you,” your hands would have been completely ready for a fight, as was Hoseok, judging by the twitch of his now furrowed brows accompanied by a death glare, but Jimin holds you back with his two arms hugging you back into the seat beside him.

“Alright, alright, calm down guys. Today’s supposed to be one of the most important days of our lives, let’s not fight, yeah? Why are you two always fighting?” Jimin’s laugh elicits a pressing frown from you and your opponent. The peacemaker simply chuckles again and squishes your cheeks together with one hand, “and Y/N was just joking, right, baby? You didn’t mean to take it that far, yeah?”

The one-sided duel persists as your arms are held tightly against your chest and Hoseok refuses to budge except for turning his attention elsewhere—anything but you.

“Hm?” Jimin nudges you gently.

Begrudgingly, you admit to yourself Jimin was right. Attacking Hoseok’s family name was a low blow, but his well-calculated jabs at your future with Jimin made your blood boil. He knew the next two days would be a tremendously precarious time for you two, he knew how you felt about Jimin and your uncertainty, so why would he go out of his way to knock you off your feet during your lowest of lows? Especially when it was such a rarity for him to do so?

“Client 151020, please head up to Counter 190715. Again, Client 151020, please head up to Counter 190715.”

“Oh, I guess that’s my turn. Gotta go!” you blurt, evidently relieved by an escape route as you grab your documents and jump to your feet. Just as you pivot on the balls of your feet, a firm hand swiftly whirls you back around until you’re met with a large, orange envelope.

“You almost forgot this. Could you be any more clumsy?” Jimin hands you the file, head tilted to devote his sole attention at his girl above. His eyes glimmer and lips stretch into a cheeky grin, fully expecting a reward. Without missing a second, you blow him a kiss and he dramatically pretends to collapse to the floor, overwhelmed by your grace. Hoseok groans once again, surprisingly accompanied by Soyeon’s giggle, and you catch sight of Jimin shrugging as you turn your back on them. “Sorry, Hosoek, but you know I’m always on Y/N’s side.”

The sweet taste of victory manifests in the power of your strides, but alas, all good things must come to an end when you find your dirt-stained, gray shoes bumping into a mahogany podium. Gulping, you take a deep breath and force your eyes to meet those of whom could soon dictate your very future—

“—Y/N!”

A puff of air escapes the labyrinth of knots within your chest; because to your surprise, an old acquaintance sits before you amidst the waves of nostalgia that submerges you chest-deep.

“Why if it isn’t—” the jovial color of her voice is abruptly replaced by a split second, perhaps because of the slight discomfort hidden beneath your subconscious or the restrictions of her current profession, “—Y/N, it’s been so long since we’ve last spoken, hasn’t it?”

You struggle to dedicate your wary gaze on a single subject before finally settling on the woman before you. From your lower angle, neck craning and lips ever-so-slightly quivering, it’s almost as if the clock had been reverted to ten years back. “...yeah, it has been.”

“How are your parents?” she asks while meddling with your files.

“They’re doing well,” you mentally scramble to fill the impending silence, “and how are you doing, Ms. Jung?”

“I’ve been…” she pauses, intentionally keeping her hands preoccupied with the shuffling of files, “...alright.”

For being a direct relative of Hoseok’s, his mother is much more composed and you feel obligated to press further.

“Are you sure? You seem very tired, Ms. Jung. Is there something on your mind?”

She takes a deep breath and sighs the heaviest of sighs. The mother is evidently troubled by an unspeakable matter for nights, weeks, months on end. Hair short, thin, and gray, the worn condition of her sleepless eyes are kept hidden as she persists in keeping them peeled to your files. “I’ll be fine, darling—” another sigh “—it might be difficult for you to understand at your age, but as big of a day this is for you children, it’s just as nerve-wracking for us parents, if not more.”

“Ah—” a surge of guilt overcomes you for the remark you had made on Hoseok’s accursed family name “—no, I understand, Ms. Jung. I could only imagine how hard it must be to send your child off with someone who might very well be a stranger.”

You catch the mother biting her tongue in a fruitful attempt to stop the words from flowing; on the contrary and to your disliking, your lips fail to seal the years of burden.

“I mean, we get married to someone we might not even know, then we’re expected to suddenly start a family of our own, and we don’t—actually, no one—has a say in what the future holds for us all because of this thing we call fate… sometimes I don’t understand who, why, or how this system was even made. How does it help any of us?”

The mother redirects her attention from the paper and onto the child before her, clearly taken aback by their anxious state of mind, for she had never witnessed the child delve into adult matters.

Your vague silhouette reflects in her widened orbs and you begin to wonder: maybe, just maybe, somewhere hidden deep, buried and shunned, lies your greatest fears of tomorrow.

“Well, it wouldn’t be a complete stranger,” the mother reassumes her spot in the committee. “You children know every other child there is on this land. In the worst case scenario, which, mind you, could never possibly arise, your mate would be a classmate you’ve exchanged glances with but never spoken to. Nothing a bit of conversation can’t fix. If fate says it’s meant to be, then it’s meant to be.

You gulp the impending wail in the back of your throat and force yourself to look her directly in the eye, “and… how does fate know it’s meant to be? Why don’t I, the bearer of my very own flesh and being, not have a say in my soulmate? I know who I love, I know who loves me—”

“—sh,” the woman harshly cuts you off, leaning forward to whisper a warning in the form of a matter of fact, “trust the system.”

At surface level, her eyes are devoid of empathy akin to the cold rules of the system, but the glimmers of her wavering gaze reminds you of the mother who fears for the future of her child. Powerless against the hands of destiny, you remain silent.

“I’m required by protocol to ask this of you,” the mother clears her throat as she gathers the piles of papers, “have you engaged in any form of the following activities?”

Handholding?

“No.”

You deny having grazed the soft skin of his hand for the first time in the meadows, concealed by the golden tall grass, far and away from the intrusive eyes of others. The callus which had just begun developing on his palms as a helper of the harvesting season, the first sign of maturation, still burns vividly in your memories.

Skinship?

“No.”

The radiance of the sun had never shone so brightly before; his hair glowed of light brown, nearly blond, the dewiness of his skin reflected the gift of God, and when he whirled around with his hands clenched firmly around yours and a smile plastered across his lips…? You had never believed in celestial beings, but if you had to on that very day, Jimin would have been the closest to an angel.

Relationships?

It takes you more than a second to respond, because how could someone ever deny the existence of feelings as fervent and real as this? Everything blazed of gold that day, his hair, his eyes, his smile, his very being, your heart, and you’re determined to protect them. This memory belonged to you and him only. No one could strip you of this right, not even destiny.

“No.”

Ms. Jung watches you for an uncomfortable second of a pause before nodding her head. She proceeds to pour a string of melted red wax onto your envelope as a seal of approval until, suddenly yet calmly, she catches sight of her son striding across the room from the corner of her eyes. “How’s Hoseok doing?”

“Hoseok?” you almost choke at the mention of his name, a stark contrast to the composed mother across from you. “Uh, I mean, he’s doing fine. I think. Yeah, he’s outscoring everyone in class if that says anything.”

“I know that, I’m his mother,” she laughs. “What I don’t know, however, is his life outside of home and work. His friends, hobbies, and… interests, things like that. You, Jimin, and Hoseok used to be so close. Where did all that time go? It's hard to believe you three are all grown up and ready to be wedded. Sometimes, I wish things could’ve stayed like that.”

“...yeah,” you utter under your breath, “I wished so, too.”

The mother sighs in fondness over the decades that had flown by in the blink of an eye. “I remember when I was 18. Mating Day was all the girls ever fussed about back then. We’d make bets on who ended up with who and some daredevils even vied to be paired with our crushes… is it still like that for you girls?”

“Um,” you pause, wondering if anything you say would be used against you before proceeding with caution, “I… don’t think so. At least I don’t.”

“Really?” she frowns. “Well, that’s good. I would advise you all not to let your hopes get the best of you. Sometimes, things end up for the best even if it doesn’t seem so at the forefront. I guess that’s why they instilled this system in the first place. If humans can’t find their soulmates, maybe magic is our only option. Perhaps marriages never worked out before our age.”

“You think so?”

“We could only make our best predictions all day and still end up with an indefinite answer,” her sighs come to an abrupt stop along with the shuffling of your papers, “and… do you know if Hoseok…?”

Oh, she must not be aware of Soyeon. Contrary to the tightly knit bond he had seemingly bore, Hoseok has refrained from introducing his one living parent to the lady of his future. Understandably, his mother’s spot in the Committee could play a role in his decision, but it still struck you as odd.

Three clients down the line, you manage to spot his head as he hands his own envelope to the staff before him. Peculiar that you had never noticed it until now, but from your angle, Hoseok appears much more capable of an individual than you had previously presumed. Perhaps it’s that taller stature and unwavering gaze of his, but he almost resembled a boy undergoing the coming of age.

The whole world has only just begun crashing down on you, a child still unfit for the harsh realities of the many years to come; but for Hoseok, that stern demeanor of his, determination ablaze in his orbs and shoulders ready to uphold the burdens of the future, bellows a silent warcry against any adversity who dares to pose a threat.

The boy presses on, eyes glued to the task before him, but something in you knows he was more than aware of your gaze. Truthfully, you don't mind his disregard for your states—in fact, you would rather keep it this way—but how peculiar is it that a mere human being could hear the unspoken motives of another? If someone were to ask you how you could be so sure of his disregard, you would have no proof but an instinctive feeling backed by baseless confidence and an intangible connection.

Conclusively, you hate to admit it, but he’s undeniably more capable than any boy or girl under this roof.

“He’ll be okay, Ms. Jung,” your hands instinctively reach out for hers before you could stop yourself; nevertheless, the pressed upturn of your lips makes its best effort to comfort the mother of a childhood friend. “He’ll get through whatever life has in store for him. I promise.”

“Ay…” she drawls, retracting her hands to quickly wipe the premature waterworks from her cheeks, “what am I worrying about? Tomorrow will be a new beginning for you children, I couldn’t be happier.”

“Right,” you force yourself to nod with a grin.

“Here are your files,” the mother returns the envelope over the counter. “The initiation will begin at dawn, so be in bed and asleep by midnight. When you awaken, that’s when the initiation officially begins. The terrain will resemble the village exactly, it’s like lucid dreaming. Instead of waking in your bedroom, however, your new location is decided by the system. The rules are as follows… One, you are free to roam. Two, violence is prohibited. Three, self harm is prohibited. Four, the first individual of the opposite sex you come across is officially your mate. Five, soulmates can not be traded or switched under any circumstances. Failure to participate and violations to any of the preceding rules will result in dire consequences. Any questions?”

How dire could the consequences be?

If it weren’t for the stress of her words and the haunting cases of missing classmates over the years keeping your mouth shut, curiosity would have gotten the best of you today.

“No, I understand. Do I need to sign anything?”

“No, the system only requires an oral obligation for the accountability of your actions,” the mother takes a deep breath and draws out a heavy sigh. For the first time since that fateful day buried deep in your recollections, Ms. Jung looks you eye-to-eye with utmost sincerity—one adulterated by sorrow. “I wish you nothing but happiness for the future.”

“Thank you, Ms. Jung.”

You’re only able to mumble your last words, for the buildup of tension drained you of vitality as you gather your belongings and make a strong, right turn toward the direction you came from. Quickly, you realize Hoseok had already finished checking in and gathered with Soyeon and Jimin from across the room. Soyeon keeps her head low, the platinum blond strands of hair providing curtains over her shifty eyes. On the other hand, the two boys watch intently as you approach them, one beaming with glee at the exuding confidence of his beloved and the other arching a brow at you in curiosity rather than concern.

“What took you so long?”

“Tch,” you click your tongue, “I take back everything positive I ever thought about you. I was talking to your mom, dumbass.”

“You? Positive? About me?” he clarifies grotesquely. “Good, I’d rather you take it back.”

“It’s fine by me no matter how long you take,” Jimin sing-songs, cheerfully embracing you and rocking you side to side but your eyes never ceases to shoot death glares at Hoseok. “As long as I have my baby back!”

“Why are you even here still?” you point at the boy accusedly.

“Actually,” he wraps an arm around Soyeon’s shoulder and she nearly jumped in surprise. “I wanted you to bring Soyeon along with you to the graduation ceremony.”

“Wait, why? I mean, I don’t mind, but why doesn’t she just go with you?”

Hoseok snorts, “are you dumb?”

Jimin hugs you even tighter and bursts into giggles when he notices you preparing to pounce at your enemy with fists raised, “we still have to change into our caps and gowns, remember?”

“So what? They’re dating, they can change together!”

The reactions that follow greatly vary as Soyeon’s cheeks turn beet red, Jimin’s cackles increases in volume, and Hoseok only scoffs.

“And?” he crosses his arms, tilting his chin as if to point at Jimin. “Have you ever seen Jimin naked?”

“Well, I mean, no,” you gape at his promiscuous remark. The smirk of victory plastered across his lips nearly gets your blood boiling as you huff in defeat and Jimin begins laughing so hard he has to nuzzle his head against your temple. “Fine, you win. Soyeon would have a much better time with me anyways, right?”

“Huh?” her eyes pop and she barely utters under her breath. “...I don’t know.”

This time, Hoseok joins Jimin in his fit of laughter and you’ve finally had enough. With a punch to Jimin’s arm, you retract yourself from his embrace, “you having fun laughing, huh?”

“I… I didn’t mean it that way!” Soyeon’s clutch to your arm surprises you.

“It’s fine,” you grumble, finally managing to break free from Jimin’s bear hug. “C’mon, Soyeon, let’s go.”

“Nooo, baby, I’m sorry!” Jimin tries his best at apologizing, tumbling over his incessant giggles. He taps at his cheek like a puppy looking for a prize, “at least give me a kiss before you go, hm? Please?”

Instead of succumbing to his desperate albeit adorable pleas, you answer with the link of Soyeon’s arms and marching off into the distance toward the doors. While you were determined to storm off without a glance back over your shoulder, Soyeon’s muffled giggles piques your interest.

“Nooo,” Jimin cries, hands dramatically reaching out toward you, “Y/N! Don’t leave me with him!”

“Him? It’s not like I want to be with you either,” Hoseok emphasizes, holding Jimin back and scolding, “quit it unless you want to get in trouble.”

“I’m sorry for being a bother… you really don’t have to accompany me,” Soyeon says ever-so-softly. “It’s just that I’ve always spent my breaks with Hoseok and I don’t really know any of our classmates…”

“Oh, it’s totally fine. I spend most of my time with Jimin, too,” you assure her with a light tug at your left arm which linked with hers, “just to set the record straight, I’m at war with Hoseok, not you. Although, you could have pretended to side with me for just a second—”

“—oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you…” she dips her head along with her voice. “The words just slipped before I knew it…”

“It’s okay! I was just joking!” you laugh nervously at her sudden timidness. How does someone as gentle and pristine as Soyeon handle someone like the rash and blunt Hoseok? If Soyeon was the lamb taming the lion Hoseok, then what would you and Jimin resemble? Unbeknownst to you, it would be a question left unanswered for the endless years to come. “You two do make a great couple, though.”

It’s the first time you hear Soyeon laugh so gleefully and something in you just knows the next two days would surely be a first of many.

The next of firsts arrives much earlier than you had unexpected and unpleasantly so. Previously, you had the false presumption of having made acquaintances of your every classmate, but when you skim around the classroom and fail to identify the explicit reasoning behind an inkling of uneasiness, you begin to doubt yourself.

What were their names? What did they look like? Where did they sit?

The shroud of questions only elevates the discomfort of having all the answers on the tip of your tongue yet arriving to none.

Today marks the first time a classmate of yours fell victim to one of the many missing cases.

“Well,” a man clears his throat and the booming, gruff voice of his snaps you back to reality.

The stout homeroom teacher paces in front of the green chalkboard but your eyes remain peeled to the opposite side of the classroom, where you suspect your missing classmates must have had resided. On your immediate right, Hoseok shoots you a quick glimpse, brows furrowed for a split second before redirecting to the front of the classroom. Jimin, to the left of empty spots where two desks would have fit so perfectly, blows you a kiss along with a cheeky grin, crescent eyes beaming with a transient joy that warms your heart.

“Today will be your last day in this classroom. Some of you never paid attention—” he directs a stern look at Jimin, who scrunches his shoulder and slumps into his chair in preparation for a disciplinary lecture that never comes “—some of you slept through class and still passed with flying colors—” this time it’s your turn to duck “—and some, well, one of you were the best model student I could have asked for—” Hoseok is shot with fourteen pairs of death glares but he remains neither content nor bothered “—nonetheless, you all made it.”

Maybe it’s the monumental step you’re all about to take, or maybe it’s the tears welling up in the figure of admiration you all had held at some point along the past fifteen years, but the air remains deafeningly silent, as if in a vain attempt to hold back the impending sobs. Everyone knows one another in this classroom, their stupid habits, fleeting hobbies, fervent crushes, and so, for the last time ever, everyone’s eyes remains on the graying elder pacing between the rows of desks.

“I’ve had the pleasure of teaching you rascals, every single one of you. I’ve watched you all grow from the little kids that you were into the wonderful men and women you are today,” he removes his square-framed glasses to rub the waterworks off his cheeks and his words become incomprehensible by the chokes that ensue, “and I hope that when y-you… h-have children, you’ll b-bring them to m-me, a-and—”

“—booooo,” everyone stares at the boy who had hollered, taken aback for a split second before bursting into laughter; even Mr. Wang begins choking on his laughs intermixed with jovial sobs, and you can finally confirm your long-held suspicion Jay had his own silver linings as a troublemaker. The boy’s lopsided grin is accompanied by snickers, “how long are you going to lecture us, Mr. Wang? I thought you said this would be our last!”

“Alright, alright,” the teacher lets out one last chuckle before gesturing to the boy beside you, “well, then, would you do the honors for the last time, student representative?”

The boy nods, pushing his seat back effortlessly and standing to his feet with one swift, confident sway. His gaze remains fixated neither on the teacher nor the classmates, rather, his laser-like attention devotes itself to a far more intangible phenomenon invisible to anyone but him—and it could have just been you or the entire class, but you’re incapable of looking away.

“Everyone, stand,” Hoseok orders and everyone obeys with a loud screeching of chairs. “Ready and bow.”

In a fleeting moment of unity, the students bow in respect for the retirement of the past caretaker and in the face of the daunting future.

“Thank you, Mr. Wang!”

“You kids are really going to make me cry,” he shakes his head yet the grin sits proudly on his face, “you are all officially dismiss—”

—the words just barely escape his lips when the class erupts into a roar. Classmates dart for the front of the class, pushing you along into the mass of students. You’re forced to follow the lead of the swarm when, suddenly, the teacher is thrown into the air and brought out into the hallway, intentionally joining forces with the neighboring classrooms. Despite being squished, pushed, and pulled in a mob of barbaric students, you can’t help but break out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter; and all the while, Jimin is the only one on your mind.

“Jimin! Where are you?” you call out to him and turn gleefully when someone taps you on your left shoulder. To your surprise, you spot an unexpected face of a bellowing classmate; and amidst the chaotic confusion, a familiar pair of lips plants a firm kiss to your right cheek.

It goes without saying, your heart swells into an immediate mush and you can’t help but laugh.

“Right here, princess,” Jimin links his arm around yours, nose wrinkling in the company of his cheeky grin. “I finally got my kiss.”

You shake your head, “but I didn’t kiss you.”

“No, but I kissed you and that’s even better,” he coos.

“That’s not playing by the rules, though.”

“No? Then I guess you can punish me… with five more kisses!”

You can barely respond amidst your giggles, “how is that a punishment?”

“You’re right, what could possibly be better than my kisses?” he pouts, fluttering his eyelids to feign innocence.

Hastily scanning the hall for the peering eyes of teachers, all of whom are too preoccupied with being thrown into the air, you intertwine your fingers with his. “Actually, you know, I am kind of disappointed that none of the teachers know about us…”

“Aw, baby, I would want the whooole world to know if I could,” Jimin sulks, “but we’ll have to wait until tomorrow, so five kisses for now would be easier!”

The corners of your lips stretch even wider and you could even feel your cheeks growing sorer by the second when you crane your neck back to avoid Jimin’s oncoming puckered lips.

“—hey Y/N, if that man doesn’t stop disrespecting you,” the both of you glance wide-eyed at Jay, who follows along at the side of the swarming crowd. A sharp gasp inflates your lungs when the boy winks, clearly neglecting Jimin’s scowl, “you know who to get. Match with me tomorrow?”

“What?!” Jimin’s shouts of fury are buried by the cheers of the crowd. Jay only shrugs nonchalantly, preparing for a sprint down the hall when Jimin raises his fists. “I’m not disrespecting my baby! She enjoys my kisses!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night—”

“—quit interrupting our banters!”

...and just like that, the boys disappear into the distance, one giving chase and the other snickering tauntingly.

Shaking your head, you could only roll your eyes at what had just played out before you. The euphoric adoration for Jimin had been enough to numb the pain of being shuffled around mercilessly in the crowd, but it doesn’t take long until your body comes to acknowledge its toll.

“Alright, quit it! I’m out!” you try to maneuver your way out, yet to no one’s surprise, the flashmob misconstrues your pleas as a cheer to fight on. Groaning as loudly as you could, you yell, “stop pushing—”

“—get out of the way if you can’t handle it, then,” the familiar husk of a voice irks your ears when a firm pair of hands settles on your shoulders and moves you to the outside of the crowd. Peering up at the boy, you grimace at his backhanded gesture of an aid. Hoseok ignores your glare with a question, “did you see Soyeon anywhere?”

“I don’t know. I’m in the same class as you, dumbass.”

“Whoa, okay, calm down tiger, just asking,” Hoseok throws his hands up in defeat.

In the midst of rolling your eyes, you spot Jimin at the opposite end of the hall. Completely devoted to showing Jay a piece of his mind, Jimin proceeds to slap the boy, who ducks from his attacks, along with several jabs to his bottom with a knee. Eyes diverting to the more proximal boy whom you could catch staring at you from your peripheral vision, you quirk a brow at Hoseok’s snide, lopsided grin.

“What?”

“Nothing,” an impertinent chortle follows, “I’m just trying to stop myself from puking after witnessing just how smitten you are.”

“I swear, you’re going to be the death of me someday,” you raise a threatening hand but Hoseok’s gaze remains fixated on you, hands buried in his pockets, and stance unbudged.

You hadn’t noticed until now, when that devilish smirk of his gradually shifts to a genuine symbol of bliss more resembling to the childhood friend you had once known, you finally realize the fortunate spot you had taken amidst the crowd. While you suffer little to no impact, Hoseok's widened stance jostled, arms constantly bumped into and legs nearly tripped under the endless stream of incoming passersby.

"Yeah?" he arches a brow. "You look awfully happy to me right now."

"Of course," you quickly add, "because of Jimin."

"Why?" his smile grows wider. "Because after today you'll finally be allowed to kiss your boyfriend in public?"

The sheepish chortle that slips from your lips is enough of an answer.

"Well," Hoseok chuckles, the burning gaze of his still fixated on you, "I'm glad at least one of us is happy."

"What?" you frown. "Are you not?"

The boy refrains from answering, or perhaps he did, for he simply presses a thin, small upturn of a smile at you and takes a step to the side. Your body nearly collapses to the floor when several students forcefully weave their way in between the two of you.

There it is, again, your sheer, utter confidence of his indifference toward the look of concern plastered all over your face as he redirects his attention to the teachers being flying into the air; but before you could inquire any further, an arm links with your right elbow and tugs you to the back and away from the crowd.

"Jimin?"

"C'mon," he has to cup a hand over your ears, lips grazing against your burning red ears. "I have something to show you."

"Wait, but our celebration—"

"Would you rather waste your time in this chaos or spend your time alone with me?"

The beat of a heart is all it takes for you to squeeze his hand in agreement and his to squeeze yours.

"Ahh, how lucky am I to have someone as cute as you," he gushes and you can't help the rush of blood that rushes to your cheeks, "I always knew we were meant to be."

The words didn't need to be said, for your silence is enough of a declaration to the universe.

I did too.

…and so, the Prince whisks you away into a land only fathomable in the reminiscence of a dream.

At a brief, magical fragment in time, when the cheers fade into the distance of the past and the hollers become a facade of the present as they remain ringing in your ears, golden hour strikes.

You could tell from the way the Sun screams into the skies—loud, red, ethereal.

You could tell from the way the meadow is set ablaze into a treasure chest of gold.

You could tell from the way the zephyrs brushes gently past two pairs of shoulders and trails along the field akin to the blue waves in the aftermath of a calamity.

You could tell from the way he breaths, slow, soft, and cautious to prolong the delicacy of this moment in time, from the way he keeps his gaze fixated on one too abashed to reciprocate, in fondness and complete awe, from the way neither of you spoke yet proclamations of affection deafen the gray silence.

This undeniable connection could never be put into words.

“I guess this is our last time in the school yard, huh?” you speak, finally mustering the courage to meet his tender gaze. The smile dancing on those pressed lips of his only widens in response. “You know, we’ve watched the sun set here together so many times, but I don’t think it’s ever looked this beautiful.”

“Mm…” Jimin hums. “Maybe the sun is celebrating with us today?”

“Celebrating?”

“Yeah—” he lets in a small gasp and points to your left “—what’s going on over there?!”

“What?” your neck turns so abruptly that you could almost feel a strain coming on. “What’s going on?”

In a magical spur of the moment, a gust of wind passes by as it rustles the meadow and trees beneath its wing span. The breeze serves as a perfect cover-up for the boy who lets out a muffled huff while the wooden bench dips and his foot stomps to stir the dirt beneath.

“Jimin, I literally don’t see anything,” you squint one last time off into the distance of the empty meadow before whirling back around only to stumble upon another one of his antics.

There, sitting still and basking in the warmth of the sun flooring upon his cheeks and yours, Jimin grins cheekily with a bouquet of white flowers.

“—tada!” he sings, handing you the arrangement. “Congratulations, Y/N.”

“Wha—but for what?” you hold the flowers close to your chest, still agape by the surprise.

“For graduating.”

“But you graduated, too…?”

“...and for your birthday,” he continues.

“My… birthday…” you narrow your eyes at him, “is next week… did you already forget?”

“I know, I know,” Jimin laughs, smile wider than ever until he settles into the whispers of the ephemeral breeze. He watches you tenderly. “How would I ever forget my baby’s birthday?”

You struggle to speak as he pinches your cheeks, “then why are you handing me this now?”

“Mm…” the grin remains even as he presses his lips, eyes gazing off to the skies before returning to you, “because this is more romantic and now you’re ruining it!”

“Ah…”

“What? You don’t want it? Fine, I like flowers too, you know,” Jimin attempts to retract the flowers from you in a fit of laughter but your bear hug to his arm prevents him from doing so.

“Nope, too late, they’re mine,” your head rests comfortably in the crook of his neck, “and just so you know, I don’t need presents anymore. You’re the best one I could ever ask for.” The boy only chuckles softly, head turning to place a firm kiss to your head. His hand weaves through your locks of hair as he patted the back of your head gently before wrapping an arm over your shoulder to pull you in tighter. “Hey, do you remember the first time you ever gave me a flower? And I say a flower because it was literally one flower.”

Jimin erupts into cackles and you smile just knowing the sheepish look on his face right now as he throws his head back in embarrassment. “You mean the first time I ever broke the law and stole something from work just to officially ask you out four years ago?”

“Yep,” you join him in his laughter, “didn’t we meet back here, too?”

“Mhm.”

“Would you count that as our first date, then?” you ponder.

“Maybe,” he pauses and chortles, “but I like to think that Hoseok was just third-wheeling on our dates before high school.”

A transient set of laughter ensues before the two of you bask in the silence, vicariously reminiscing over the memories of the other.

It had never been easier to leap through time.

“So this is it, huh? Our last day together as students.”

“Soon we’ll be married and having kids of our own,” he turns to place another kiss to your forehead.

“Do you… feel like you’re ready?”

“Well, we just finished school and now we’re suddenly expected to become full-fledged adults, not to mention parents. It’s a bit overwhelming,” he sighs but you could feel the rise of his cheeks pressed against your head as he smiles, “but I’m ready for anything as long as I’m with you.”

“Oh, what’s this? Jimin is actually being serious for once? As much as I enjoyed it, I have to say you were awfully needy today.”

His nose scrunches at your teases when a mischievous grin replaces his discontent.

“Then can I have my kiss now?”

“You already have! At least three times by now,” you stress.

“Ay,” Jimin bashfully laughs with eyes fixated on your lips longingly, “you know what I mean!”

An innate reflex of self mechanism brings your hands to your prized possession but the flush of beet red on your cheeks gives you away. “You can tomorrow.”

His laughs become a homogeneous mix of nerves and frustration, “why tomorrow? I want to kiss you nooow.”

Why tomorrow? He’s right. Why tomorrow and does it have anything to do with the burning anxiety that gnaws at your chest, constricting your airway and highlighting the fear of this very moment’s transience in that when you awaken tomorrow morning, he could and would no longer remain by your side?

Hastily, you nuzzle your head into his shoulder once again in a fruitless attempt to mask your greatest nightmares. You point to the tall, sturdy oak tree that had aged like fine wine throughout your childhood years, “think about it, we’ll meet out there in the fields where we first met, where we fell in love for the first time, and we’ll meet out there again in our dreams, have our first kiss, and start our future together all under the very same tree.”

His silence has your heart dangling at the edge of a cliff and you lift your head to find him gazing off into fields, perhaps sulking or reminiscing but most definitely riddled with deep thoughts.

“Yeah, Jimin?” you gently shake his arm. “Let’s meet over there tonight. It doesn’t matter where and when we start initiation. We can wait for each other. Yeah?”

“But we don’t need to do that.” the corner of his lips curve ever-so-slightly as he finally gives you a soft smile. “The system functions on the basis of soulmates. Who could be a better match than us two?”

“I know, but… but what if it doesn’t work?”

“It’s always worked, Y/N. How has our village survived and repopulated for all these years?”

“I know,” you emphasize, brows furrowing at the orchestration of pain hammering against your chest with each beat. “I know, Jimin, but does the system really always work? I mean—” you scramble to gather the thoughts that stings within your bloodstream “—did you not notice how two of our classmates are missing? It’s terrible, I can’t even remember their names but I could have sworn I knew them, and even if I don’t know who they were, the memories of when we talked and when we laughed, they’re all gone and no one seems to notice!”

“Y/N…?” Jimin lets out a nervous laugh. “What’re you going on about…?”

“You don’t remember, do you?” The myriad of incessant, sleepless nights come crashing down on you all at once. “The missing numbers in our village, the abandoned houses made out to be new infrastructure, no one questions it and I’m starting to wonder if I really am going crazy—”

“—Y/N,” his apathetic tone adorns the stoic look on his face and he meets the wavering gaze of yours straight on, “I don’t know what’s been going on recently, but it will be okay. It will work. Questioning things is useless, it’ll just bring you more stress. Try not to worry for me, even if someday for whatever reason I’m not there to remind you to, please don’t ever carry the burden all by yourself okay?”

“Fine, but just,” you struggle to take a calm, deep breath of air amidst the wavering waves that escapes, “just promise me this once, okay Jimin?”

“It’ll be ok—”

“—Jimin!”

The both of you are taken aback by your cry and you’re riddled with regret at the sight of unforgivable guilt plastered on his now softened features.

“Okay,” he utters under his breath, squeezing your hand, “I promise.”

Are you truly descending into madness? Or is this a momentary shock from the overwhelming fear of the unknown? The mysteries of the village and the horrid consequences of the system could have been conjured from the nightmares amassed throughout the months leading up to tonight, but lit in the darkness of uncertainty, the warmth of Jimin’s hands, beckoning for you to come forth, is enough of a reason to forget, even if just momentarily.

“Plus,” Jimin breaks the stillness of the air with a chuckle, “the only person we should be worrying about is Hoseok.”

“Oh—” the thought had completely been overlooked “—you’re right. If the system truly works, then why is it that the Jung’s always have the worst luck of the draw?”

“I… don’t know. There isn’t anything we can do about it and I’ve always hated how I’d spend hours and hours just wondering what I could do, but I don’t know.”

The sun draws its color from the skies with it, leaving traces of its wake along the impending night soon to befall upon it, and all you could do was watch.

“It’s scary,” you hug Jimin’s arms closer to your chest and he glances at you in utter awe, “to be a mere child and have everyone warning you about who you meet and who you play with and how you could very well meet the catalyst of your own death simply because of the blood you’re born with.”

“Aww, is my baby actually concerned for Hoseok?” Jimin cackles at your scowl. “Well, everyone knows about the curse of being married into the Jungs, but that doesn’t seem to stop girls from fawning over him, does it? He is smart after all… and tall…”

“What,” this time it’s your turn to tease, “are you jealous?”

“Nope!” he nuzzles his head against yours. “I don’t care how many girls like me because I only have eyes for you.”

“Right, right,” your laughs are whisked away by a breeze. “Who knows? Maybe Hoseok might even end up with Soyeon. I hate to admit it, but they’re a pretty good match. I can tell she really loves him. I don’t know about Soyeon, but she must be his soulmate. Hah, wouldn’t he just love that?”

“You think so? I have a feeling he’ll be okay,” Jimin hums passively but when you glimpse at him, his eyes scream ‘I will save you.’

A pause ensues.

“You know, as much as I dislike that boy and regardless of how long it’s been since we hung out six years ago, he’s still our friend. To be honest, a part of me doesn’t want tomorrow to ever come. Things are perfect the way they are now. We’re together and Hoseok is fine and happy with Soyeon. I feel bad for using his name against him today.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. We all make mistakes. I’m sure he won’t hold it against you. I don’t know how but we’ll save him if it ever comes down to it, right, Y/N?” he smiles softly when you nod timidly. “Most importantly, don’t be scared of tomorrow. We’ll get through whatever life throws at us together, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So…” Jimin utters under his breath, low, raspy, nearly inaudible, but you could sense the oncoming cheekiness of his. “Can I kiss you now?”

“I said tomorrow!”

Your attempts to avoid his watchful gaze prove to be in vain when heat flushes your skin and you catch Jimin grinning in amusement from the corner of your eyes.

Heartstrings are tugged—plucked, even—as he leans in to place his lips against your right cheek. He waits, prolonging the momentary freeze in time, before finally pulling away and squeezing your hand.

“Come on, let’s go. It’s getting dark now.”

Despite his beckoning, the boy allows you to take the lead home. Your hand remains snug in his, guiding him forward with small, reluctant strides until he finally comes to a stop. The world spins as you’re whirled around by a tug at the hand and you find yourself stranded in the middle of a field in the arms of your love.

“Jimin?”

Your words fall upon deaf ears, for the stern, intent look of his eyes that stirs your beating chest and the butterflies in your stomach.

“Can I kiss you?”

His hands trail up your arms, grazing your skin along the way, until they cup each of your cheeks. Gradually, ever so slowly, he approaches, watching your every motion. He held you, firmly yet gently, and you just know he could see through your every emotion, from the electricity that runs to your extremities to the flip of your heart that waits in anticipation with each inch of his encroachment; for just before your eyes flutter closed, you spot the curve dancing in the corner of his lips.

Finally, he closes the remaining distance.

Time comes to a halt.

His flesh is soft, warm, and dewy against yours. He caresses you softly, as if fearful of breaking his most prized delicacy in his very own hands.

Tender and with love, you share your last firsts of today; but when you pull away, his hands stop yours from leaving the nape of his neck.

“Again.”

...and again, and again.

Having completed its grand finale, the sun sets and reluctantly so.

The magnitude of the challenge that comes with tonight finally dawns upon you.

You could still feel the reminiscence of his touch on your lips as you lay on your bed, too stirred to fall asleep. Staring at the ceiling above, you shut your eyes and bask in the rarity of complete silence within your now empty household.

You have two options. One, you knock yourself out into sleep now and get this initiation over with. Two, you sneak out of the house, risk being caught, possibly miss the start of initiation, and tire yourself out into sleep.

As with every Mating Day, every parent should be gathered in the headquarters of the village where you had checked in earlier today, so you figured no one should be roaming outside. Even if there were to be unexpected spectators, stealth came second to your innate senses, for you had snuck out to meet Jimin in his house or the schoolyard countless times before.

In reality, there isn’t anything but answers that could halt these restless thoughts of yours. Jimin’s adamant trust in the system, his reluctance to meet with you, and the missing classmates that had gone under the radar strike you with concern on the most important of nights. You needed assurance from another perspective; and so, you find yourself creeping along the plain fields, the absence of tall grass keeping you completely out in the open where, fortunately, only the moon bore witness to your rendezvous.

“What’re you doing?”

The sound of his voice incites goosebumps on your arms along with the chilly, still air of the night.

“What took you so long? I’m freezing out here,” you glare at the boy who stands at his doorside; the moonlight illuminates the thick locks of his chestnut locks, fresh out of a shower, and you catch a golden reflection of light glowing from somewhere within his house.

“Who told you to come here?” Hoseok scoffs. “Never mind freezing, what if you’re caught sneaking around with that dumb stance of yours?”

It takes you a long second to realize what he was referring to. Straightening your back and dropping your hands to your side, you cough in a failed attempt to clear the air.

“And what about you? You’re not supposed to be opening doors for strangers, for anyone, actually, tonight.”

Hoseok quirks a brow at your rebuttal, chuckling lowly and adorning a lopsided curve of the lips. “Fine, you win. Come in before anyone catches you and you’re really left for dead.”

“Wow, are you really that freaked out by tonight because the Hoseok I know would never give up so easily.” The boy only shrugs mischievously, stepping aside as you step foot into his household. “Welp, fine by me—”

—but your words are cut short when wind is knocked from your lungs and you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders, whirling and pushing you around against the closed door. In the blink of an eye, you find yourself in a familiar household of your childhood with an unfamiliar boy hovering above you with darkened eyes.

“And you’re not supposed to be entering stranger’s houses tonight, huh? What do you think about that, Y/N?” he cocks his head.

“You’re,” you huff, struggling to hold your breath in the proximity of his face to yours, “you’re not a stranger.”

“Oh but I am.”

“We might have stopped talking a long time ago—” the way you stumble nervously over your own words reminds you of just how long it’s been since you had been alone with Hoseok “—but I still know you. It’s not like you’re a stranger all of a sudden.”

“Yeah?” he raises a brow, finally dropping the hand that had hovered over you next to where he pinned you onto the wall. He takes a step back, crosses his arms against his chest, and cocks his head to the right. Following his gesture, your sights land on two flowers perched on a shelf, one with gilded petals that reflect the golden glow of the display lights and another with similar petals that seem to have just begun withering. “What’re those called then?”

“What does that have anything to do with this?” you frown when he remains unbudged, waiting for your answer. “Uh… I haven’t seen anything like that in our textbooks.”

“Then you don’t know me,” he leans against the back of a couch in the living room, “and I thought you were ranked second in our school.”

“It’s a flower in your living room,” you groan when he refuses to see any insight to your argument. “Alright, what’s it called then, Student Representative?”

“A dandelion.”

“A what?”

“A dandelion,” he chortles, eyes diverting to the display as it glows a vibrant gold. “Some people call it a Lion’s Tooth because of its petals, but when it wilts into a white puff of seeds, something as weak as even the breeze can destroy it like the lion it never was. Pretty neat, huh?”

“Nerd,” you scoff. “Plus, doesn’t the wind disperse the seeds so it can repopulate in other areas?”

“Nerd,” he mocks, returning his attention to you with a crooked grin. “So? Why’re you desperate enough to spend time alone with me and not Jimin?”

“Is your mom home?”

“Would I have let you in if she was?” Hoseok deadpans. “She’s not exempt from the rules. She’s at headquarters with the rest of the parents.”

“Good, because I have something… serious to ask you about.”

Hoseok raises both brows inquisitively, seemingly taken aback by someone whom had never sought aid from him before. “All ears.”

“Did you happen to…” you beat around the bush in consideration for the promise you made with Jimin.

“Would you spit it out already—”

“—did you happen to notice two of our classmates missing today?”

Eyes shut and heart pounding, Hoseok’s silence is deafening.

“...three.”

“Huh?” your eyes snap open and you find him looking off to the side.

“Three rows of desks,” he continues, the stoic gaze of his meeting yours, “none of them were missing. In other words, no.”

Ironically, the sunken weight in chest tells you something in his observation had disappointed you; but what do you have to be disappointed over? Jimin was right, you had nothing to worry about. The excessive stress is starting to get the best of you through these imaginary classmates of yours.

“Oh, haha…” you force a nervous laughter, scratching your neck in the loss of a purpose. “I guess I really am going crazy then…”

Hoseok only watches you, arms crossed and gaze hardened, each one of you wondering just what was going on in the mind of the other.

“Did you come here just to ask me that?” Hoseok finally breaks the silence. “Why didn’t you ask Jimin?”

Should you tell him about the conversation? Would it be odd to confide in a long lost friend over your love conundrums? Instead of answering, you cross arms in defense.

“What? Is this your first fight with him?” he muses, standing upright and pulling the gray hood of his outerwear over his head. You could only watch in bewilderment of his accurate prediction as he walks past you and out the door. Following in his footsteps, you shut the door behind you. “C’mon, it’s getting late. I’ll walk you home.”

“What?” you profusely shake your head. “It’s fine. I can walk myself home. Go get some sleep.”

“Look, I’m not doing this because I want to, but I’m not an asshole and I don’t want to hear Jimin yelling at me if anything were to happen to you,” he beckons again, tilting his head in the direction of your home and burying his hands in his pockets. “C’mon.”

The walk home seems to take much longer than your way on up here now that the reality of the surreal moment had settled in. You had just visited the house of a childhood friend now coined acquaintance, and now you’re walking home with said boy without a single subject that tied the two of you together other than the past.

“So…” your breath’s penmanship manifests in puffs of white amidst the night air. “How did you know it was me?” Hoseok turns his head to quirk a brow at you. “I mean, I know you’re not dumb enough to open the door for just anyone tonight, especially… not you.”

Hoseok stares at you long enough for you to become self-conscious, obviously contemplating on the omission of truth. “I could always tell it was you whenever you knocked.”

Eyes widening, the implications of his answer dawns upon you as his hands lift toward the sky and his raised forefinger casts a shadow onto the grass. His moonlit tan, honey-like skin and glimmering orbs are a near carbon copy to the friend you once knew.

“We have maybe an hour or two left until initiation begins. What’re you gonna do if you miss it? You scared?” Hoseok teases fall short when he glances over at you to find an apathetic look on your face. “Whoa, I was just joking. You think I can actually tell time like this—”

“—Hoseok, are you scared?”

“That’s not even a good comeback—”

“—no, I mean,” you blurt, “I don’t know if Soyeon or anyone’s ever checked on you, but given your family name, are you scared?”

Hoseok stares at you, lips fallen slightly agape and expression too hard to read for a mere acquaintance like you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. Please just ignore—”

“—sure I am,” he answers and you could no longer feel the subsequent rapid heartbeats that follow. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn't. Wanna know a secret?” The boy continues despite the lack of an answer. “I’ve spent every single night for the past couple of years theorizing and compiling a list of all the possible outcomes of tonight.”

“...and?”

“I think I’ve narrowed it down to who it might be.”

The boy’s gaze remains fixated on you, perhaps out of curiosity, amusement, or even concern over your lack of a response. The truth is, you weren’t sure how to comfort him if that time were to come.

“Who it might be…?”

“You know. Of all people, you and Jimin must know,” he muses. “My accursed mate.”

“Oh,” you dip your head low, hoping to conceal the windows to your soul, “I’m sure that’s just a myth, Hoseok. The system works, doesn’t it? You’ll be fine. You’ll probably end up with Soyeon anyways. You guys really compliment each other.”

“Yeah?” he stops abruptly in his path and you do the same. “You think she’s my soulmate?”

“And you don’t?”

Hoseok lets out a soft chuckle, “I could only hope.”

I’ll save you. Jimin and I will save you.

The thoughts could never find its way out of the labyrinth of your mind.

“Alright, I’d rather have you screaming profanities at me again than watch you stare at me with pity.”

“Um,” you pause, “I feel bad for whoever ends up with you to be honest.”

The boy erupts into cackles, one that hasn’t seen the light of day in years—or at least to you.

“Yeah, I hope I don’t end up with her either,” he muses, pacing a few steps back away from the front doorsteps of your home. He calls out from afar, “anyways, go get some rest and live your happily ever after with Jimin. Thanks for the concern, but I’ll figure things out on my own.”

“Are you sure…” you say weakly.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “I always have.”

With one last soft smile, he makes a run for home, far off into the inconspicuous distance.

The long-awaited night comes to an all-time proximity when, out of the blue, a thundering clatter to your window rattles you awake. The night must have been aging, for the room is pitch-black and the village is left in utter silence as people drifted off to sleep.

Nothing should have been outside your house.

Moonlight seeping through the slit of your curtains, you rub your dreary eyes and climb off your bed to wearily draw open your curtains—

“—Y/N! I know you’re in there!”

“What—” your fury grows with each second as you pull open the curtains and step out into the balcony, glaring at the boy on the first floor of your yard, “—what the fuck are you doing here, Jay?!”

“I told you… I’d come,” his words are slurred and you surmise the involvement of alcohol, a forbidden substance for those underage, to be a main catalyst for his summoning, “waltzing in… for you if Jimin doesn’t...”

“Go home, Jay. You disgusting animal,” you hiss. “If you stay here any longer, you’re gonna get caught and you might even miss initiation!”

“C’mon,” he beckons and begins climbing the vines along the walls of your house before falling multiple times in his drunken state. “We can start initiation toge—”

“—Jay, for the last time,” your eyes pop open and you begin to wonder whether you were truly dreaming when you spot Jimin grabbing Jay at his air and pulling him to the floor. ��I’m going to beat your ass dead if you don’t fucking go.”

Jay attempts several sloppy punches that land in thin air and you nearly grimace at the wheezes of air forcibly knocked out of his windpipes.

“Tch, go!” Jimin points to the direction opposite of your house. “Now!”

Leaving the boy on the ground, heaving for air, Jimin swiftly climbs up the familiar vines, grabbing your hand and leaping into your balcony. The neglect for rest seems to take its toll on the boy’s body when his knees buckle on his landing, sending the both of you tumbling to the floor. In mid-flight, however, Jimin somehow manages to break the fall, for you find yourself on his chest instead of the hard concrete.

“Jimin,” your eyes widen at the boy who only grins cheekily at you, “am I dreaming? Why are you here?”

“Real question is, why is that guy here?”

Having forgotten the fallen boy, the two of you hastily stumble to your feet and peer over the balcony.

Empty.

Except for traces of blood that marks the floor, no one is in sight.

“Where’d... where’d he go?” you shudder in the cold wrath of the night and the tingles that run in your adrenaline-driven blood. “He just… he just disappeared—”

“—Y/N, look over there!” Jimin hisses under his breath.

Following the direction of his pointed finger, you squint hard enough to spot a familiar figure walking off in the distance. A petrifying chill runs down your spine.

“What’s Ms. Jung doing out here?”

The next thing you know, Jimin clutches your hand and shoves the both of you into your house, quickly turning around to slam the balcony door shut and locked.

“What’s she doing out there?” you repeat. “Patrolling? Did she catch Jay? What happened to him?”

“I-I don’t know, Y/N,” he walks you to your bed, gently seating the both of you against your bed frame.

“Should we report to her what just happened? Does she know? Are we going to miss initiation—”

“—sh, Y/N, shh,” his cupped hands thaw the ice of your cheeks. “I’m sure Ms. Jung has it all handled. She’s probably patrolling to make sure things like this doesn’t happen. What matters is that we’re safe and we have enough time to start initiation, alright?”

“R-right…” you follow Jimin’s lead and take numerous deep breaths. With his hand in yours and your arm wrapped around his, you lay your head on the crook of his neck. It’s difficult to resume a normal pace of breathing, even in the comforts of his embrace, but you had no choice but to shove matters into the back of your mind. In the wake of Mating Day, time constraints force you to delay matters into tomorrow’s hands. “Wait, what’re you doing here, Jimin? How did you know to come?”

“I didn’t,” he squeezes your hand. “I felt bad for the way things happened earlier today. I just wanted to be with you tonight and happened to stumble upon Jay… I tried to stop him from coming here but I didn’t know how rough I had to be until I saw him toss a rock at your window...”

“Oh,” you mutter and force your eyes shut, hugging the boy even closer to your chest. “Well, I guess it was meant to be. Thank you… for always being there for me.”

“Yeah, I’ll always be there for you,” his words are muffled as he kisses your head, “soon enough, we’ll be marrying and starting a family in a house of our own and I can be there for you as many infinite times you want.”

“Okay,” you grin, “that sounds good.”

“But before we can do that,” he gives you one last kiss, “we should get some sleep.”

This would be the final silence of the night before Mating Day—long, formidable, and ear-splitting. With so many words left unspoken, the both of you know that eventually, somehow, and painstakingly so, you would be able to find comfort in the confinement of the other, notwithstanding the difficulty of recovery; and so, eventually, you’re able to mentally sigh in relief when drowsiness dawns upon you.

“Hey, Y/N?” Jimin’s gruff indicates to you that the both of you would be entering dreamland soon enough, together.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“Mm,” you hum with a smile.

“I love you.”

“Mhm.”

“I’ll always love you.”

“Okay,” you hold him even tighter, “and I’ll always love you.”

Daylight breaks sooner than expected, for your eyelids squint even tighter shut in the wake of the sun’s blinding rays. As your senses awaken along with your body, you gradually become conscious of your unusual surroundings. Your fingertips plant into a pool of warmth rubbles akin to dirt and your skin from head to toe basks in the kiss of the sun. You could smell the earthy scent of the meadow intermixed with freshly watered plants and you could hear the soft rustling of the wind against the tall grass.

You could identify this place anywhere, even in your sleep.

This must be the start of initiation.

Smiling to yourself, you stumble to your feet as blood rushes to your feet and you flutter your eyes open to the familiar schoolyard.

With the exception of the excessive beams of the sun, everything is exactly the same as you had memorized it in reality.

There isn’t anything to be scared of.

Your next step is to find the tree, which, if you were correct, should be right behind you; and, as if in sole happenstance or the works of fate, you have an inkling of the beholder to your promise standing, waiting for your turnaround.

A euphoric rush of relief and bliss in knowing that it was meant to be all along, you whirl around and call out to your heart’s content.

“Jimin—”

—but your heart stops just as abruptly as your beckoning and as cutthroat as the wails knotted in your throat; because off in the distance, the silhouette of your mate is a stark contrast to your one and only.

Chestnut hair tousled by the breeze, eyes heavy-lidded by the daunting future neither of you desired, and a prim demeanor resting on his lips, you finalize reach an epiphany.

You had been his curse all along.

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hyucktarts · 4 years ago

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[5:46 pm]

I don’t know how to tell you about this, Jeno.

You’ve been occupying all my conscious, waking thoughts, and it would probably be better if I don’t start about the subconscious ones or my dreams. Dreams, huh? They say it’s a fundamental right of humans to be able to dream. How am I an exception then ? Why am I an exception then ? Is it because I’m the embodiment of the term “social stigma” ? Is it because I’m in love with something I can’t ever have ? Is it even love anymore ? Isn’t it what psychiatrists call limerence ?

Why did it have to be me, huh ? Why did that steel claw with spikes have to grasp my heart, the only organ which I actually call mine ? Why did it have to squeeze so hard that all the blood being pumped stopped with time, rose up in a plethora of red minuscules and abruptly spilt, tainting my face and limbs, taunting my process of thoughts and whatever bit of hope I was left with?

That was when I knew, isn’t it ? I knew who was meant for pain. Pain is a strange thing. a twisted, skeletal tree clawing its way up from the fertile, glimmering grass and marring the sky. It takes your breath away and you can feel it. But wasn’t this what I wanted anyway? This hopelessness, this destruction, this absolute repugnance I could only feel about my own self, about this empty shell pinned to innumerable and inexplicably fast thoughts. Yes, I carry nebulas in my veins and black holes in my lungs, which will never quite go back to the way they once were.

I’m destroying myself.

I’m destroying myself every time my eyes wander over to where you’re sitting, with your annoyingly handsome face and your cerulean, buttery, veiny hands and those half-crescents under your perfectly shaped eyebrows and that tiny yet prominent star right next to them and the regal slope of your nose and your fucking, pink, chapped lips.

I’m destroying myself when I hear the sound of your laugh, like fresh spring water on a particularly smouldering day. I’m destroying myself when I realise that it’s not my joke you’re laughing at. It’s not me who can make you laugh like that, like-like you’ve got no damn care for the world. Like it’s your last day on the earth and someone’s holding a gun to the back of your head, compelling you to laugh like that, like a fucking celestial being.

I’m destroying myself every time my mind goes blank, forgetting everything around me just to focus on you, just so I can spend every waking minute of my day staring at my universe. My cosmos. Which doesn’t need any of the most beautiful constellations, nor the big moon or the bright sun. My cosmos revolves around you, Jeno. My cosmos revolves around the piece of art which is your existence.

You, your smile, your laugh, and you.

I’m destroying myself whenever I see you with her.

You two, a disgusting picture. You wrap your hands around her waist, pulling her closer to you, and kiss the top of her head. She beams at you, her eyes conveying whatever she feels for you. I don’t blame her.

But you? But you, Jeno?

Why do you stare at her as if she’s the one who makes the world go round? Why do you stare at her, when she’s not looking, with sparkling eyes, as if she’s hung all the stars in the sky? Why do you look at her as if she was the one who planned your twentieth birthday and had stayed up watching a horrible movie on Netflix despite having an excruciating headache, just so she could be the first one to wish you at midnight? Why do you stare at her as if she was the one who’d bought you your first kitten, and your second, and your third ? Why do you stare at her as if she was the one who’d held you on that fateful night, when you’d lost all control over yourself, shaking and quivering, streams of tears running down your red cheeks ? Why do you stare at her as if she is the one who has been suppressing her eleven-years of abhorrent feelings for you, ever since you’d spoken out about hating people like me ?

Can you give me an answer Jeno? Or am I just too disgusting to deserve an explanatory message?

I hate you Lee Jeno.

I hate your blinding smile and your crude beauty, I hate your hands and arms and the way they make me feel safer when I’m enclosed within them. I hate your warm chest and gentle words and how you just know when and why what to say. I hate your nose which makes me want to boop mine with it, and your philtrum, giving way to your lips and the way everything else gets blurry when you open them to speak. I hate your deep voice and the shivers it sends down my spine, and the lewd noises I might just make because of it, if I didn’t have the highest level of self-control ever seen in a human being. I hate everything about you, from your prejudices to your pride, but most of all-

I despise the way you make me feel. I hate losing control and it seems like in this risky game of push-and-pull with life and the alluring thoughts about death, you are the only one who has proved to be the creator the biggest psychosomatic problem I’ve ever faced.

I have nothing left to lose, Jeno, which is why I’m going to leave this under your bed today.

I’m not afraid of the ominous, intangible void manifesting itself in the little corner where my heart should’ve been. I’m simple exhausted now, Jeno.

And so, I’m giving up on this Russian roulette of unrequited love.

- Chenle.

#writers on tumblr #nct #mamamoo #stray kids #seventeen #red velvet #twice #monsta x #nct jeno #chenle #jenle nctdream timestamp unrequitedlove poetry limerence hiraeth

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 6 years ago

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Humans are Space Orcs “1st Surrender”

Hope everyone enjoys feel free to ask questions, send messages etc and give ideas etc.

The sky above was dark with ash, the fire-mounds were more active today than they had been in many years, even over the fertile belt, where the ash did not normally reach. The normally bright-blue grey sky was obscured by ash turning the sun orange, and casting the volcanic landscape into a haze of red. The slopes of dark fertile earth were covered in hundreds of layers of colorful moss reds, oranges green yellow, and blue dotted here and there by ash trees with purple leaves and rocket-cap stumps. The profile of their gas giant Nemphis was just visible through the atmosphere and sunlight, a circular crescent of light violet dominating the western horizon.

Night was coming.

The Reconciler stood poised before his troops their fledgling soldiers arrayed on the left and the veterans on the right atop a podium of obsidian with the judgement chambers rising high behind him against the sky black and imposing. The War conclave sat behind him, an array of the thirteen high generals dressed from crest to heel in their most imposing armor, war staves held high beside them.

“The alien invaders speak of peace, they speak of allies. They-speak-HERACY. They would DESTROY our way of life as we know it.” The crowed below him roared in anger, “They would DESTROY US.” More roaring, “WAR IS OUR ONLY OPTION!”

The crowd of novices bellowed their anger, newly crested soldiers howled with their desire for blood, and in that crowd a small figure arrayed in metallic blue armor howled her anger brandishing her weapon into the air. The body Mod on her arm still stung with pain, still oozing blood, but the weapon in her hand felt good. If she could just SEE. At only 7,6 she was too short to see over the heads of her compatriots who towered at an average of 8,6, but occasionally, she caught sight of the Reconciler and the war conclave through the breaks in line ahead of her, and there she could see where both her parents sat, arrayed in their glorious battle gear. Somewhere, on the other side of the crowd would be her brother, and his mate leading, as a commander, a thousand Drev, and this time there would be her, leading a squadron of 20 at the head of a fledgling unit.

She had fought her way to get here, and she would fight her way further.

“And with our armies, we will send the invaders, CRAWLING ON THEIR KNEES BACK TO THE SLIME FROM WHENCE THEY CAME!”

More cheering.

“Rest now, for tomorrow we War!”

“DISSMISSED!” She turned on her heels with the rest of her line walking to the left and then breaking for their homes on the fertile belt, against the obsidian hills.

Sunny waited for the Conclave to break eager to announce her promotion in the upcoming war, a squadron leader.

She saw them speaking with the Reconciler for a long moment before her brother joined them. At almost 11 feet tall with metallic red armor, he had always been one of the most desirable. Next to him stood his mate in at 10 feet white metallic armor. Drev were always challenging her to duels in hopes to unseat her from her position, she had not lost once.

Together they broke from the line, and sunny came running up saluting to them as she ground to a halt.

She was ignored.

“General,” She looked at her father “General.” She looked at her mother, “I got a promotion.” The two glorious war generals turned to look at her interested for once, “Yes?” Her father asked.

“A squadron leader.” She announced proudly.

Immediate and final dismissal, “You brother was Platoon chief at your age.”

They walked away leaving her standing under a hazy orange sky.

***

“The Galactic Assembly has made their decision clear.” Her platoon chief snarled, “They have made their intentions clear, and as such, we have declared war.” She stood back framed by the massive stone as the soldiers stood before her, “In retaliation they have threatened to send their strongest warriors to combat us.” A flickering projection appeared overplayed on the map. A grainy image, a bipedal creature like the Drev, but with only two arms, not much she could tell from there.

“And what have they sent us? A joke!” She slammed her fist on the table and the screen above flickered, “6 feet tall MAYBE, it has no armor, no attached weaponry, and only one set of arms.” She paused, “And what has the conclave to us about defeating these creatures?” The room leaned forward in anticipation. “RIP THEM IN HALF.”

***

They stood silently in the rocks and the crevices of their churning landscape. Here in the fire-lands, the rock slithered and churned over the ground creating the illusion that the world still oozed slowly breathe them, a large viscous river of stone. Sunny could hear the sound of their ships landing. They roared with a thousand tongues of flame, and the Drev were impressed with their display of war.

Sunny crouched with her squadron on a ridge, watching as vehicles poured form the opening of the massive crafts, swarming with troop movements churning like a well-oiled machine. Sunny was excited and apprehensive. This wasn’t her first battle, but this would be her first war. She glanced to the side just then eyeing down the line at the rest of her comrades. At the very end was Moss, he had handsome metallic green armor, and the same sort of eyes. At around 9,5 she had admired him for a while now.

He had made it clear they were only friends

“Stand steady soldiers,” A calm voice came from the back. She looked behind to find her mother, the general walking up the line. At 10 feet tall, and with proud deep purple armor, looking like the night sky. She was regal in her armor holding her war staff. She came to a halt beside Sunny at her line, “Eyes forward, solider,” And then in a lower voice, “Just stay at the back, you will be of greatest use there.”

Sunny sunk in shame.

***

They were harder to fight than she would have thought, the battle that should have lasted under a day had dragged on for weeks. Though small and brittle, these creatures were clever. They attacked at distance with their weapons, and were excellent marksmen. They devised more ingenious ways to kill and maim from the safety of their bunkers. Sunny’s unit, originally at the back, had been moved up to reinforced the front line, and there she had been determined to show her prowess in war, she never stopped, she never relented, she tore and shot and cut until hordes of the humans and others were wheeling away in panic, she tore with her claws and her hands fighting through the pain of her wounds like a monster. Every-time, she wished to fall back, she remembered the disappointment in her family’s eyes, and she pushed on.

Weeks turned into months, one by one they tore through the human defenses ripping the creatures limb from limb as their comrades fled. They were harder to kill than originally thought, with helmets and armor of their own, they were surprisingly resilient, but no match for the Drev. They were approaching the last human line. Sunny was exhausted, strung out, half her squadron was dead. Fighting had devolved into person on person contact, the Drev line was spread thin.

She could hear the sound of the distant human weapons clattering and roaring. Coming up over a rise in the volcanic stone blue armor tinted purple by the ash tinted sky, she stepped down into a shallow bowl eyes locking on target, a Rundi Solider and its Moor counterpart. They both shrieked as she approached. The distant fire-mounds rumbled.

She raised her weapon to deal the death blow despite her exhaustion.

And then something slammed into her form the side. She rocked forward, almost losing her balance as the world spun. Weight pressed down on her shoulders, claws grabbed at her neck. She pitched forward wheeling and spinning as the world around roared. Limbs flew. The human clung to her like some horrible insect. She threw her head to the side eyes falling on the creature. It had a pale moon face, and wide green eyes teeth lined into a sharp snarl under its fake carapace. Its claws rose and fell burning a sharp spine of pain into her neck.

She screamed.

She spun to the side the blade carved at her insides seeking to sever her neck. She threw herself to the side spinning and lurching to dislodge the creature from her back. The sharp burning pain ripped through her skin and she screamed again in absolute agony. The creature hit the ground hard metal spike still in hand. In searing pain, she stomped at the creature, but it rolled to the side.

She could barely think. The creature lurched at her feet, cutting the knife across the back of her heel.

The pain was incredible. The roar was cut off by a choke and she buckled to her knees feeling her feet go limp. All she had was her anger now, and her fear, she had never seen a creature do this before.

The pop and crack of the weapons were growing closer.

The creature was about to move, she reached for it relying on her superior strength gripping the creature in two of her hands. It struggle against her.

She dug in with her claws knowing the humans were coming.

She pulled.

Red everywhere. The creature erupted with a cry that sent her ears ringing. She…. Had never heard such agony from a creature before. It dug into her head and tore into her chest….. Breaking into her mind like a telekinetic weapon making her sick. She let go, and the creature went rolling away across the stone. She bent double feeling sick, the clatter of human weapons rolled over the rocks their grunting and hissing calls.

Sharp cracks, she was knocked backwards as projectiles impacted her armor.

She screamed again limping and scrambling over the rocks, trailing blood behind her.

The creature’s cry of agony ringing in her head.

***

Fear…. She had never known it, but now she did, running for her life across the barren landscape away from the approaching line of red glowing red mist.

They had come like the wings of death spreading out to cover the landscape consuming the Drev as they went. They rattled with metal, their eyes glowing with false light, stronger, faster: The dead brought back to life.

She stumbled over the uneven ground and turned. Her father stood his ground against the approaching mass. The thudding of metal footsteps, faces glowed from the darkness. Gunfire roared from the dark, and bodies were torn apart. She could feel the heat of the passing projectiles.

“SUNNY!” A shape threw itself into her path gold armor glowing with the orange spray of blood. The creatures leaped into the sky above them with a power they should never have possessed belying their early frailty. As if dark gods had given them wings.

And they came crashing down like a rockslide.

“FATHER!”

A sliver blade sprouted from the base of his neck, and he crashed to the ground lifeless, armor cracking under the power of the creature. His grand battle scepter rolled form his hands clattering against the ground.

Numb, she scampered backwards across the stone as the dark creatures pursued from behind.

The sky above was clogged with ash, the air with smoke.

She was going to die.

The line around her broke, they were retreating, running for their lives across the open ground. She heard the creatures screaming behind her. And then, a distant call, a sound that she had never heard, and thought she would never hear. Never in their history had it been used.

All at once, in defeated synchronization, the Drev fell to their knees discarding their weapons. Sunny tore hers from her arm and threw it to the side, blood coated the ground.

Surrender.

The battlefield grew silent. Only the sound of the fire-mounds roaring in the distance. Sunny lifted her head fully expecting to die. Everything was so silent, her heart was still. And above her stood the human. Its wide green eyes staring down at her afire with hatred as it stared down the barrel of its weapon.

She was going to die.

And then as she watched, the hatred faded away. The eyes grew wider, it stumbled away from her. The dark god fled from its face replaced by an expression of agony and sickness. The other humans milled about in confusion, though they didn’t attack.

She watched the green-eyed creature as it sunk to the ground, and with a soft whimper unlocked the metal from its body and with all its strength, discarded the false limb against the stone. It bounced away clattering against the ground, and there it sat from dark god to helpless beast.

***

The Drev were defeated, an entire race brought to their knees by this strange creature from the stars. Her father was gone, her brother was crippled, and his mate was dead. Sunny was alone.

Her mother remained the only general left, but they did not speak. She had lost all the useful members of her family, why would she speak to Sunny. Despite all she had done, they had lost.

And somehow that was Sunny’s fault.

Not many spoke in the days after the war. Some fled the world, alone, others remained.

Sunny stayed quietly watching the stars studying the human technology privately in her grief quietly admiring them. What kind of creature grew stronger as it was ripped apart? She needed to understand.

And all during the night, the human’s eyes stared back at her from her dreams

#humans are space oddities #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #Earth is space Ausralia

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dimensionwriter · 5 years ago

Text

Tangled Within Her Vines

Gender Neutral Reader x F! Forest Spirit. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I'm not dead. School just got out and I'm ready to start writing more frequently. Anyway, here you go

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The sun was burning your back as you continued to push the clippers through the hedge. Little leaves fell to the ground, only increasing the pile of work that you will need to do later.

"Hey, sunflower," a women cooed from behind you. You looked across the large field to see a white gazebo sitting near the edge of the land. Inside was a tall asian woman wearing a blue sundress. She had long black hair that reached past her butt; she always braided it or put it in a bun over her head.

"Morning, Miss," you said politely waving your hat at her. A high pitch giggle came from her as she lean from her seat, placing a hand on the table, and waving back at you.

"You look parch. Come over and have some cold lemonade," she cooed using her hand to beckon you over.

Taking a glance at how much work that still needed to be done almost made you say no. But you haven't had a drink since you started working and you're sure it would be quite frightening to see a person laying in her yard due to dehydration.

"I would love to," you said smiling at her. She lowered into the seat and grabbed her fan. It was a pretty pink one that matched perfectly with the blue dress.

It was kind of awkward having to walk a long way to the gazebo, but you just looked down and moved as fast as could. You can still feel her eyes on you.

"I didn't know it was going to be this hot. I would have called you in on another day," she said giving an apologetic smile. You sat down in the white chair infront of her. It felt so delicate that you were scared of breaking it.

"It's fine. I didn't expect the garden to get this out of hand so quickly. The plants grow so fast," you snickered out. An awkward laugh slipped from her as she brought the fan higher across her face.

"Yeah, it's probably the fertilizer I'm using," she muttered quickly. You doubted it was the fertilizer. You have worked with plenty of gardens and they all have their own fertilizer preference. Not a single one of them have resulted in the plants growing this fast.

"I've heard that this land use to be look over by a Goddes of Nature. Maybe she still does," you joke laughing a little. Not hearing her laugh, you slowly stopped yours.

"That seems…odd," she muttered darkly before shaking her head and perking up. "Let me go grab that lemonade."

She quickly got up and ran towards the house behind the two of you. She gripped her blue dress to make sure it didn't slow her down. Her tiny bare feet slammed into the ground as she moved quite quickly.

Leaning back in the chair, you let out a sigh you've been holding. It always feel like you're walking on thin ice when she's around.

You know nothing on her, not even her name. All you know is that one day, a lady you were working for said that her neighbor needed help with her garden. You didn't realize that she had a neighbor, any less that they had a garden.

But walking out the door and looking to the right, you were met with a mansion far in the back being blocked by trees. But what made you do a double take was the giant garden at the front.

The hedges formed a giant mazed that held all sorts of flowers. Through the hedges held rows of plants that seem to splash every space with colour. Even the marble steps were reflecting the colour of the plants.

And that where you met her. She was sitting in that white gazebo with a book in her hand. A white lacy glove covered her had that delicately held a tea set. A small giggle came from her as she flipped the page.

It was at that moment that you realized two things: this place was going to be hard to keep up and this woman is so beautiful that it feels wrong to breath the same air as her.

She didn't even seem surprise to see you walking towards her. She was actually giddly the entire time the two of you talked about forming a contract and all the work that needed to be done.

You expected to have to come over every other month to trim up things or maybe to pick up any fallen leaves. But her plants seem to be determined to grow as fast as possible. So, you had to come in every week and sometimes twice a week. It was sometimes scary to see how fast the plants grew.

The only good thing was that you got to see her. She always sat in the white gazebo and watched you work. Her sweet soft voice always drifted through the air as she kept conversating with you as you worked. There was never a dull moment with her.

Something brushing your ankle caused you to look down. There sat an odd flower. It seem to be a red sunflower that turned more blue the closer it got the edges. Where the flowers cross breeding?

Bending down, you picked the flower to get a closer inspection at it. The colours were absolutely eye catching. It was actually quite beautiful.

If you had been paying a litte more attention, you would have noticed the thorns hidden along the stem. However, the punctures in your fingers alerted you of them.

"Crap," you hissed dropping the flower and grabbing your hand. Small trickles of blood went down your hand and dropped onto your working shorts.

"Bandage. I need a bandage," you slurred trying to think correctly. Everything felt stuffy. The room was spinning, but you couldn't comprehend what was happening.

"Shit," someone yelled in the blur causing you to look towards the sound. A lound crashing sound followed behind making you worried.

Looking at the blur, you saw something blue running towards you. The blue thing seem to be wrapped around something white. Wait, now it was green.

The last thought you had was, that's a nice shade of green.

"Shit. Shit. How am I going to explain this? Hey, I know you got poison by this new undiscovered flower, but everything's fine," someone rambled off in the distance. Your body felt heavy and odd.

"I knew I shouldn't have started messing with plant creation. Who leaves a posionous flower near a human?" the voice yelled followed by the sound of something thumping. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

"This was a dumb idea. Sees a cute human next door and instead of just going over and saying hi, I build an entire house with a garden. I'm so out of touch with flirting."

Who was this person talking? They seem to be in distraught. And why were they next to you?

"After this, I'm never calling them over. I'm too dangerous," the voice whimpered out. A long sigh came from the disembodied voice followed by a low whine.

You tried to get this numbing feeling out of your body. The closet thing you got was moving your middle finger and rolling your eyes under your eyelids.

"Some goddess I am."

Your eyes finally open revealing a stoned cieling being lit by some light. You moved your eyes to the left to see the owner of the voice. Thet were huddled up in the corner, but raised their head to the cieling to let out another long sigh.

They appeared to be human in your blurry vision, but a quick blink cleared up the misconception. They had a light green skin with white freckles on their shoulder and face. Two huge antlers sat ontop of their head that sprouted long black hair. Their face structure was quite similar to a human, except everything seem too sharp. Their cheek bone protruded out into a slight triangle shape.

Their eyes open up giving you a better image of them. Instead of two eyes, they had four golden eyes on their face. A slight glowing white crescent shape sat under her thin eyes.

"I should've-" they voice cutout as their eyes met you. The tender look in their eyes fade and was replaced by a widen look of panic.

Even though she looked different, you could still tell it was her. She looked completely different, but you could still feel it was her.

"I can explain," she yelled jumping up. Her arms draped a lot father down her body than they usually would. They seem to reach her calves. "I'm going to a costume party and this was my final product. It's all make up."

She gave an akward smile to you as she twirled the dressed between her long green fingers. You could tell that it was real by none of the suppose makeup wiping off on her dress, the same one from earlier.

"Well," you grumbled feeling an instense dry feeling spreading through your throat. A series of harsh sounding coughs came from you causing you to sit up.

She rushed to your side placing a hand on your back and lightly patting it. Slightly embarrassed and sore, your shook your head and lightly grabbed her hand off your back.

"As I was saying, before coughing up a lung, you look absolutely beautiful," you said giving her a smile. Her entire body seem to freeze as her golden eyes widening.

"R-Really? Um, you think so?" She stuttered out lifting a hand to her cheek. Her green skin slowly turned blue under her hand. Is she-is she blushing?

"Of course," you said. Feeling a little bravery, you quickly added," I always think you look beautiful."

You did it. You successful put out a compliment. But what if she think you are saying that only because you're scared. Even in this form, she looks breathtaking. Wait. What if she's disgusted that a human like you are trying to compliment you? There's too many possibilities.

"You do. Well, I-I think you're beautiful too. Like always, too. And, um," she begin to twirl her thumb while looking down,"I lied. This isn't makeup."

A small smile came to your face. You wanted to laugh at how adorable she was. "I assumed so. I don't think anyone would get dressed for a party while someone is unconscious. Unless they're heartless."

"I'm not heartless!" She yelled jumping towards you a little. She didn't realize you were joking. "I was just lying. I've been told I'm a bad lier."

"Well you fooled me into believing that I somehow missed my employer's neighbor having a giant mansion along with this garden out of a fairytale," you said slightly laughing as you thought about it. You thought you were going insane. No gardener could miss something as amazing as that.

"Yeah that was a dumb idea," she muttered twisting her bare feet in the ground. "I guess you may have a couple of questions. This is an odd situation."

"I've been meaning to ask this since I started working for you. What is your name?" You asked feeling embarrassed. "I understand that you may have given it to me, but I can not recall it."

Her face turned blank as she stood there. Is she mad? A name is something special and you forgot it. What if you are being culturally insensitive? Maybe she didn't give it to you because of some unknown reason.

"I knew I forgot something," she yelled covering her face with her hand. You sat there more confused now. She…forgot?

"I remeber to build an entire house with garden, but I forgot to give you my name," she whined sinking down into the floor. That same light blue colour slowly melted onto her skin. Why is she so cute?

"It's fine. You didn't mean-"

"Azalea. It's Azalea," she muttered interrupting you. She's named after a flower. It's fitting.

"Azalea. A beautiful name for a beautiful…person." Do you still identify her as a person? Well, is that the correct thing to say for her?

"Your name is beautiful too. It rolls of the tongue nicely. And I love saying it because then your face pops into my mind. And your face…is…nice," she slowed down as she seem to realize what she was saying.

"Anyway. My name is Azalea and I'm a forrest spirit," she said doing jazz hands on "forest spirit". Her smile was wonky showing off how awkward she felt.

"Forest spirit?" You asked confused. Well, I guess that should be obvious with the green skin and antlers.

"Well, sometimes I get called a goddess of nature. Even though I'm not a goddess, in the human sense. But I can creature nature at will, but most forest spirits can," she rambled looking anywhere but you. She can create nature. That's so cool, she could easily make the plants grow at any speed.

Wait.

"Where you the one growing those plants so fast?" You asked connecting the dots. She flinched as she dropepd her eyes.

"Well, I wanted to get to know you. And only seeing you monthly wasn't a good way. So I thought maybe if I saw you weekly, I could have a better chance." A long sigh came from her as she looked up at you with a slightly blue face.

"That's actually cute," you mumbled to yourself. You thought you were using these call-ins to get to know her, but she was doing the same thing.

"It's not cute," she squeaked out. Her long black hair draped over half of her face as she begin to pace.

"I'm suppose to use my powers to protect the forest. But here I am acting like some some love struck fool," she grumbled out. Dissapointment slowly rained over her face. Her plump green lips slided out into a pout.

"You're not the only one," you inquired hesistantly. "If it wasn't for this garden's owner being cute, I would have dropped the job. I missed a lot of other job offers just to be here So, I guess we both weren't doing I job right?"

Laughter slowly slipped from her lips. She covered her mouth with her hand, but laughter still came out of her.

That sound. It's so pure and filled with so much joy that it seem to warm your heart from inside out.

Her antlers moved along with her head as her body racked from the laughter.

"We suck at flirting," she laughed out. Hearing her say those words made a giddiness spread through your body. And before you knew it, you were joining her in laughing.

After a few minutes of laughing at the two of you inability to flirt, you both sat there in comfortable silence. Just enjoying the moment.

"I'm tired of pretending," she said happily leaning against a wall. "I like you, like a lot. I have since the moment I first talk to you. And I know it may be weird with me not being human, but I promise you won't notice. I could stay in my human form-"

"I could care less if you were a human or a forrest spirit. I like your for who you are. And I told you, I always think you look cute." You loved the way her cheeks turned blue again as she half distractedly twirled her hair between her fingers.

"So, you won't be weirded out if I stay in this form. It's kind of hard to hide the antlers in my human form," she muttered slightly joking.

"I think the antlers are cute. Stay the way you're naturally are, because it's you," you said truthfully while staring into those beautiful golden eyes. A small smile came to her face at that statement and at that moment you felt like you were on top of the world.

"Thank you," she whispered tucking a side of her hair behind her high pointed ears. "Well, I suppose this is the point where I say that tomorrow I will be baking and serving tea and would like for you to come."

"And this is where I say I would like nothing more," you said smoothly, but your giant smile revealed your true emotion. But you could care less. You have the most beautiful woman smiling at you as if you just given the world.

And you knew right them from this moment on, you will forever be tangled in her vines of love. She will have a hold over you that no other person or creature can obtain. And you're fine with that.

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Tadaaa. Another momster girl to add to the pile. I wamted to try to write more female monsters, so you may see more of a diverse set of monsters in my cast. Anyway, pelase COMMENT what you thought and if you want to ASK me anything, over a character or just personally, my ask are OPEN. Thank you so much for reading. I look forward to reading you guys comment. It really makes me so happy when I see that someone commented on my stories. It help me learm my audience a lot more. Any way, thank you guys. And hopefully see you with another story soon.

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