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jadedxrealityw · 4 years

Text

-Evermore- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

♡~🐍~♡

Summary: The wizarding war is starting and your family fears for their safety. Even though they were purebloods, they were not death-eaters. They decide to flee to america, but you, unlike them have someone to lose by leaving.

Kody: The song this image is based off of. Evermore by Dan Stevens (From the Beauty And The Beast 2017 Movie)

Year: 7th

House: Slytherin

Possible Triggers/Warnings: some angst, cursing i think?

♡~🐍~♡

when you were 13 you had the displeasure of meeting Draco Malfoy. Just transferring from America had been a big change for you, but you were ready to take on the challenge of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. That was until you bumped into him.

you hit somebody’s chest with a harsh thud “Watch where your bloody going!” someone shouted at you. You step back and meet the cold grey eyes off a pale boy. “Excuse me?” you said, slightly taken aback by his loud shouting. The boy had an amused grin on his face.

‘I was the one who had it all. I was the master of my fate’

“do i need to repeat myself? Watch where you're going? Who even are you? You sound american” he crosses his arms over his chest. You raise a brow ‘who does he think he is?’ you thought. “I’m Y/n L/n from ilvermorny. I just transferred here today so i am in fact American.”

his grin didn’t falter in the slightest “What’s your blood status?” he asked. You almost gasped. Why did he need to know that at all. You keep your composure this time putting on a grin of your own. “and why does that matter in the slightest?” you question.

“Because, i’m Draco Malfoy, pureblood and i shouldn’t be wasting my time with anyone less” he spoke with such smugness that you wanted to punch him right then and there. You put on a fake pout before answering “It’s to bad that i don’t care about blood status then huh?”

with those words you pushed past him and his trio of friends, leaving him in your metaphorical dust. As you walked away Draco watched your every movement. He was captivated by the way you stood up for yourself. It was different. It was exciting.

“I remember now! She’s from the american pureblood family. The L/n’s!” Theo shouted with a proud smile at his memory. Draco looked at him with a surprised expression “Really? Why didn’t she just tell me that then?” he replied, slightly irritated.

“because she was messing with you and you walked right into, Malfoy” Pansy rolls her eyes “I swear boys are so stupid” scoffing she began walking to class. Blaise and Theo following after her. Draco just sighed very loudly “Oh so now i’m the bad guy!”

♡~🐍~♡

‘I never needed anybody in my life. I learned the truth too late’

the next week during potions class Draco was visibly struggling with a potion he had been working on all class and if he didn’t get it done before the end of the session he would fail. “That doesn’t look quite right” a voice said from beside him. He looks over to see you, standing behind him.

“Shove off L/n and mind your own potion” he hissed, each word laced with venom. What a Slytherin am i right? “I’m already finished, i think you missed an ingredient” you say, leaning over to look at his potion. He uses his free hand to push your head away “I don’t need anything else, it has to be perfect.Now leave”

he watches you place something next to his cauldron and walk away to your own desk. He gazes over at what you had left. Unicorn hair? hes hesitant, but picks it up then drops it in the cauldron. He watches the potion change to the right color and smiles to himself.

he looks over at you and you give him a small wink before going back to your potion. Maybe you weren’t that bad, but he’d never say that out loud.

♡~🐍~♡

‘I'll never shake away the pain’

fast forward to 4th year, yule ball is upon Draco and he came alone. Pansy was taking Ginny and Blaise was taking Theo. As he stood at the entrance of the ball he felt a presence to his left “Did Draco Malfoy come alone to the ball?” a teasing, familiar tone said.

‘I close my eyes but she's still there’

he rolled his eyes and prepared a witty comeback, but all words left him once he saw you in a beautiful black dress. “Have i left you speechless?” you ask, stifling laughter. He regains his composure somehow and grins “Didn’t you come alone as well, why? Did no one ask you?” he teased.

you shake your head “No actually three seperate boys asked me. I just said no” you say simply, catching Draco off guard. “Really? Why?” he questions, He watches as you sigh deeply “Because i was waiting for you to ask me of course. Now do you want to dance?”

‘I let her steal into my melancholy heart’

Draco stood in shock before he felt you grab his hand, leading him to the middle of the dance floor. “Unless you don’t want to of course?” you tilt your head to the side. He shakes his head a bit before placing his hands on your waist. A strange feeling envelops his chest.

you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a warm smile “You seem frightened by me?” you ask, unsure of your own question. He shakes his head quickly “No!- no i’m not, it’s just- thank you for saving me from the embarrassment of going alone. I don’t want people to think im-” he admits.

"a loser?” you finish his sentence. He chuckles at your answer “Yeah, something like that” he responds, his tone sadder then before. You shrug your shoulders at his statement “I wouldn’t think your a loser. I’d still like you” you spoke confidently.

his grey eyes widened as you said those three words to him.

‘It's more than I can bear’

and he ran away...

♡~🐍~♡

weeks had past and students were now leaving the train to meet up with their parents for the summer. Draco hadn’t spoken to you at all. He was to scared to admit his own feelings to you. It was a coward move sure, but it was better than having to look at your bright E/c eyes and fall even more.

Draco was holding his luggage in one hand when he bumped into someone “Oh my, i’m so sorry” and there was the familiar voice again. His eyes locked with yours “Hey Y/n” he said. You scoff and place your luggage down, turning your body towards his.

“you leave me on the dance floor and reject me in the most rude way possible and all you say is ‘Hey Y/n’ if you were that disgusted by me Draco Malfoy, you could have just said so!” you shouted at him, he could see the tears brimming through the same E/c eyes he had seen so many times before.

he felt his world shatter a tiny bit at your outburst “No that’s not it at all. No one has ever liked me before okay?! It’s different. Especially when i like them back” it was your turn to be surprised this time. “Oh...you do?” you say, wondering if your ears had been playing tricks on you.

Draco nods slowly “Yes, i like you Y/n and i’m sorry for the way i acted at the yule ball” he says genuinely, no trace of mischief in his eyes. The corners of your mouth turn upward in a smile “Apology accepted” you nod once. He copies your smile.

“so what does that make us?” he asked. You roll your eyes “It makes us boyfriend and girlfriend Draco. That means i am yours and you are mine, got it?” you state, pointing a finger at him. He grins lightly and nods “I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

‘Now I know she'll never leave me’

you smile up at him before your eyes looked at something behind him. “Oh that’s my parents! I have to go, but i’ll write you!” you force each word out quickly then stand on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek. You give him one last smile before picking up your luggage shouting mom and dad.

‘Even as she runs away’

Draco turns behind him to watch as you walked away with your parents, his hand reaching up to touch the cheek you had left a kiss on. He felt his mind go fuzzy as the tingling feeling still lingered on his kiss. He let out a deep sigh “She’ll be the absolute death of me, that’s for sure”

‘She will still torment me’

♡~🐍~♡

the month you two spent apart was one of the worst feelings Draco had ever felt. Now that you two were together, he had this nagging feeling of always wanting to hold you and just be by you in anyway. He didn’t know he could become so attached to someone.

after one night he had a fight with his father he stormed up to his room, slamming the door. He tried to calm himself down, but it was no use. The anger just wouldn’t subside. That was until a soft knock came to his door “Draco, honey. A letter came for you. From someone named Y/n L/n?”

Draco quickly opened his door. Narcissa handed him the letter and turned on her heels to walk down the hall. He closed his door again and rushed over to his bed. He opens the letter, your handwriting was so unique. With each word he read, the angered feeling drained away and a comforting one replaced it.

‘Calm me, hurt me’

he did scowl at the small section of you berated him on how he should of sent a letter first, but he also found it quite cute. He collected each one of your letters after that. He kept them in a black wooden chest that he hid under his bed. They became his cherished memories.

‘Move me, come what may. Wasting in my lonely tower’

he wished that he could have spent that summer with you instead...

♡~🐍~♡

‘Waiting by an open door’

his leg wouldn’t stop shaking, he was going to see you again and it was the start of his fifth year and whatever, but that wasn’t on his mind at the moment. He was sitting in the Slytherin cabin of the train, waiting for you to step on. His mind was racing in two different directions.

‘I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in’

while waiting his mind had convinced myself that she was actually a figment of his screwed up imagination and he was a fool for waiting for her, but after realizing that even thinking that was the truth was mental he calmed down quite a bit.

“Draco?” that familiar voice spoke. He looks up to meet your E/c eyes once again. He jumps up from his seat and wraps his arms around you tightly. You stumble on your feet a bit, but hold onto him as well. “Happy to see you too?” you say with a small laugh.

“please don’t ever go on vacation for the summer again, i couldn’t handle it”he breathed out into your ear. You smile and pat his back “Okay i won’t you big baby” he pulls away and pecks your lips quickly, your face flushing. He grins a bit at your reaction. “Your lucky i like you Draco Malfoy”

‘And be with me for evermore’

♡~🐍~♡

‘I rage against the trials of love. I curse the fading of the light’

they were 16, it’s been a year since they started dating and Draco was, to put in simple terms. Losing. His. Shit. Not only did he have the dark lord’s orders to fulfill, you were coming over tonight and he was going to tell you those three terrifying words.

his thoughts could no longer race as a knock came to his bedroom door “Draco?” oh shit. You were here. He takes a deep breath before going over and opening the door. He instantly wraps his arms around your waist “hello darling” he says in a breathy tone before leaning down to kiss your lips.

“hmm, hi” you say in between kisses. “I can’t believe your mom said yes to me sleeping over” Draco leads you into his room, shutting the door. He shrugs “Mother knows how much you mean to me so” he trails off at the end. You nod “Yeah i am your girlfriend, so it makes sense”

‘Though she's already flown so far beyond my reach’

“yeah, but your so much more to me” he says, his tone becoming serious. You chuckle nervously at his change of demeanour “Okay..” he lets out a deep sigh “oh merlin, i’m trying to say i love you Y/n. i’m in love with you. Like stupidly in love with you and you say boys are stupid”

a smile grows on your face before you wack his arm with your hand “Ow!” “Next time just say that you goof. I love you too Draco” you exclaim. He chuckles before scooping you back into his arms and both of you share a sweet kiss.

♡~🐍~♡

now. 7th year. With the wizardry war starting and people choosing sides. Things were getting chaotic and fast. “Y/n pack your things quickly, were leaving!” your mother shouted from the living room. You rush downstairs in a haste “What do you mean were leaving!?”

your mother turns to you with a horrified expression “the sacred 28 are coming. There going to try and convert us to death eaters. Were leaving for America now!” she shouts. You shake you head rapidly “But Draco- i can’t leave him!”

“He’s a death eater Y/n. I know you love him darling, but he chose his side” she spoke in a comforting tone, but you didn’t find it comforting at all. Pulling out your wand you apparate away. Leaving your mother in shock. Where had you gone.

♡~🐍~♡

‘She's never out of sight’

a there you were. Standing in Draco’s room. He looked away from the window and to you “Y/n? You can’t be here. Love. you have to leave” he spoke in a hushed tone as he walked towards you, grasping your shoulders. “I know Draco, i know your a death eater”

his grey eyes were filled with shame, looking away from you “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my choice Y/n you have to believe me. It was my fathers idea i swear on everything” the way he spoke was enough to convince you. “I believe you Draco. I do” he lets out a sigh of relief “Thank merlin”

“my family is fleeing to America. The sacred 28 are coming to my house right now to give me the mark” his eyes were no longer shameful, but terrified. “You have to go then” he said, cupping your face with his hands “I can’t-” “-Yes you can. Love, your not safe here”

“I don’t care. I can’t leave you Draco. It would be too painful” you spoke, tears starting to water in your eyes. He nods slowly “I know, but as soon as this mess is over you can come find me again. I’ll be waiting at my front door for you. I promise”

you look down, refusing to meet his gaze as tears began to stream down your cheeks “Promise me Y/n” he says more sternly. You hesitantly look up at him “I promise” you nod, putting your hands over his. “I love you Y/n L/n” he chokes out. “I love you too Draco Malfoy-”

“-I had a feeling you’d be here” a voice came from the doorway. Narcissa Malfoy. Draco lets go of you and pushes you behind him “Mother please” he begged. Narcissa waved her hand “There’s no need for that Draco, come along Y/n so i can sneak you out. They’ll know if you apparate”

‘Now I know she'll never leave me’

“Your not going to tell the dark lord?” you asked, holding onto Draco’s arm. Narcissa simply smiled and shook her head “I could never do that to you or my son, now we must leave at once” she held out her hand for you. You look at Draco before letting go of him.

‘Even as she fades from view’

“Make me a promise as well. In the end you’ll choose the right side in the end” you say/ He nods slowly “Anything for you” he spoke, giving you a smile that you return. Narissa grabs your hand and leads you out the room, closing the door. He waits a couple minutes before looking out his window.

he saw his mother leading you out the Manor. She seemed to say something to you before placing something in your palm. She gives you a kiss on your head before you apparate away. At that moment, his whole world had shattered. You were gone. Really gone.

♡~🐍~♡

‘She will still inspire me. Be a part of everything I do’

and he kept his promise. At the day of the final battle when Harry Potter fell out of Hagrid’s arms. He ran towards him and threw his wand at him before leaving the scene completely. He hoped his mother wouldn’t worry to much about his whereabouts, but when Harry finally defeated the dark lord. He smiled.

he couldn’t wait to see you again. After charges were being dealt to his parents Draco and his mother were pardoned of all crimes due to there help towards Harry and his friends. For once he thank Potter for speaking for him at his trial. He wasn’t such a bad guy.

‘Wasting in my lonely tower’

it had been days since the war was over and there was still no word from you. It had been months without contact and you were no where to be found. He went by your old house. Empty. Not a single witch or wizard to be seen. Had you moved on?

‘Waiting by an open door. I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in’

like he promised, every morning, afternoon, and night. He wait by his door for an hour. Waiting for you to walk down the Manor path so he could wrap you in his arms again and feel your familiar warmth again, but a week had gone by and nothing, but he wouldn’t lose hope.

‘And as the long, long nights begin. I'll think of all that might have been’

he started waiting longer at the door. One hour turned to three. Narcissa had became worried about her sons health. So she made sure that he ate and drank enough water. Even help him to bed when he passed out leaning on the doorframe. Which he did. A lot.

♡~🐍~♡

three weeks. Nothing. The early morning shift that day he wore his night clothes as he sat on the concrete. He had his face in his hands, rubbing away any tired feeling he had. “Draco?” his whole body froze like ice. He prayed that it wasn’t the tiredness as he looked up.

there you were. A small smile on your face as you stared down at him. He leaped off the ground and grabbed your face “What took you so bloody long?!” he shouts. “I had to wait until i turned 18 so i could leave. My mom tried to keep us apart, but it’s okay. I’m here now”

he nods vigorously. “You are. Your here” he smashes his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. It lasts a couple seconds before you pull away “Your mom gave me this by the way” you pull a silver ring out your pocket. It had a small black diamond on it. “My mother's engagement ring?”

you chuckle “That makes a lot of sense now. she told me to give this to you to give to me when we see each other again” his face flushes slightly as he takes it from your hand “After you leaving me for a month. I never want to lose you again. will you possibly, maybe, marry me?”

he looked unsure of your answer. “Of course you goof. Gosh, boys are so stupid” you say and hold out your hand. He grabs it and slides the ring on your finger. he gives you the brightest smile “I love you Draco Malfoy”

“I love you too Y/n Malfoy”

‘Waiting here for evermore’

♡~🐍~♡

Kody- 4am, sleep now. scoliosis hurting. Anyways, peace.

121 notes · View notes

solarune · 5 years

Text

so this is love

pairing: na jaemin x fem!reader, (implied) lee jeno x na jaemin

genre: cinderella au, sort of but not really a greek mythology au (the fairy godmother is based off of both the character in the movie/fairytale as well as calypso), fluff, angst

warnings: very vague allusions to abuse (family treats jaemin horribly like in the fairytale, that’s it), unrequited love, uh angst lol

word count: 12,978

summary: as the years go by and you watch jaemin grow up, you begin to forget what your job as his fairy godmother really is: to help him find true happiness.

a/n: this is my first time ever writing a fic this long and i’m honestly very proud of myself. i didn’t think it would be as long as it is but here we are. shoutout to my girl kelly @mingyoongles for editing this monstrosity for me ily. this took me so long so i really hope you enjoy it!

You feel a tear slip down your cheek as you fade from view, Jaehyun’s eyes opening just as you vanish from your spot in front of him—along with your spot in his memories. You hear a woman call out his name, feeling your heart pang in your chest when you see the wide smile that instantly appears on his face at the sight of her. She takes his hand in hers and they continue to walk down the busy street, their figures disappearing amongst the crowd in a second.

You hear Jaehyun’s laughter clear as day. The sound makes you smile but causes your heart to break at the same moment. Another person that you’re destined to help and fall in love with but not destined to be loved by in return. You rub at the tattoo of a dolphin on your wrist, wondering again why the Fates had made you a descendent of Calypso and thereby cursed to be unloved forever.

The world around you becomes blurry as you’re transported somewhere else, only having a few moments to take a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to calm down before you materialize in a large bedroom. You see women gathered around a bed and a man kneeling at the head of the bed, clutching what must be his wife’s hand. Your eyes move to his wife just as she opens her mouth and an ear-piercing scream is the first thing that welcomes you to your new assignment.

The first time you meet Jaemin is when he’s exiting the womb.

“One last push, miss, you’re almost there,” a midwife encourages the woman as she grabs a blanket from another midwife beside her, the mother groaning in response as she goes through the last few grueling minutes of labor.

You watch as the child is welcomed into the world, thick hair already sitting atop its head as it cries loudly and flails its arms around. Nurses bustle around the mother as they attempt to clean her up, but the mother only has eyes for her child, immediately reaching her arms out as the midwife walks up to her. She places the child into her arms and the father rushes to her side, the two of them staring down at their beautiful baby. Her hair is matted to her forehead, skin pale, and breathing still shallow from the amount of strain she put in, but her eyes seemed to hold all of the love in the world. “Hello Jaemin,” she whispers as she kisses her baby’s head, her eyes closing as she holds him tighter to her.

The first time you formally meet Jaemin, he’s 4 years old.

Jaemin’s laugh can be heard echoing through the garden as he chases a butterfly around, a wide smile on his face as he clenches and unclenches his chubby hands into fists. You’re seated up on the branches of a tree in the farthest corner of the garden, your legs swinging as a breeze ruffles your blue robe. Jaemin’s parents had left to go out into the town a few minutes ago and had left him under the care of one of their maids. Usually you would never take it upon yourself to babysit him, but something in you told you to keep a close eye on him, and you had learned to trust your gut in the 4 years that you’ve been here.

Never before had you been assigned as someone’s fairy godmother and been forced to watch them grow up. You had always come into their lives at the time that they most needed it, your job being to help them find true happiness. But Jaemin was just born when you had come into his life, so what was there for him to truly need? So for 4 years you kept yourself hidden, watching his mother and father raise him in the estate that you’ve now come to call home (not like they knew though). You had been there during his first steps, his first words, his first snowfall, his first everything—you had been there for it all, invisible but always close at hand.

You’re drawn out of your thoughts by a dull thump, looking down at Jaemin and smiling when you see him playing with the ball that his father had given to him just last week. He’s throwing the ball around as he animatedly talks to his imaginary friend, Joonyoung, encouraging him to catch the ball as he throws it higher and higher. Jaemin runs closer to the tree that you’re perched on and you can’t help but laugh at how excited he is. That is, until he throws the ball far too high and it ends up getting stuck between the branches right below your feet. You watch the panic flit across his face as he gazes up at the tall tree in front of him, his whole body spinning around as he searches for anyone to help him retrieve his ball. Slowly, the young boy turns back around to gaze sadly at the ball, his lower lip quivering at the fact that there was nothing he could do.

You feel your heart ache as you watch the first few tears roll down his cheeks and you can’t resist standing up on the branch to help him. You pull your wand out to get rid of the invisibility spell and help you float down to the ground, your feet touching the grass as you think, I’m gonna have to introduce myself eventually. Jaemin watches you with wide eyes as you land in front of him, not even taking notice of his ball as he goes from staring at your face to your blue robe to the white wand in your hand.

“Hello,” you greet him softly, a wide smile on your face as you hold out the ball to him. “Is this yours?” Jaemin nods, slowly taking the ball from your hands as he continues to stare at you in awe. “My name is (Y/N). What’s yours?”

“Jaemin,” he whispers shyly, his ears turning red as he fidgets with his toy.

“Well Jaemin, you should be more careful with your toys,” you gently reprimand him, walking forward to spin him around and urge him back to where he was playing before. “You don’t want to lose them, do you?” The boy walks forward without question but turns around when he doesn’t hear you following him. When he looks back, his eyebrows furrow because you’re nowhere to be found. He glances around the garden, even looking up at the branches of the tree for good measure, but Jaemin can’t seem to find the nice lady that gave him his ball back.

“Jaemin, it’s time to come inside! Your mother and father are home!” one of the maids calls from inside. You watch from your spot against the tree as he runs back inside the estate, shouting excitedly for his parents while the ball lies forgotten in the middle of the garden.

The next time you meet Jaemin, he’s 7. And this time, he realizes you aren’t just a dream.

After the fateful first encounter, Jaemin had convinced himself that it hadn’t actually happened.

Fairy godmothers aren’t real and he definitely knows that magic doesn’t exist, so whoever that woman in the blue robe was was just a figment of his imagination. So his life continues as normal; his parents continue to dote on him the way that loving parents do, he makes friends with the other kids in the town, picks up gardening as a hobby and starts doing it with his mother, and he creates his own little hideout in the tree in the farthest corner of the garden (the same spot that you were sitting in 3 years ago, unbeknownst to him).

Every Saturday, Jaemin and his mother go out into the town’s square to walk through the market. And today, much to Jaemin’s excitement, is Saturday. The sky is bright blue, the birds are chirping, and Jaemin takes a deep breath as he steps out of the estate holding his mother’s hand. You take a deep breath at the same time as him, savoring the sweet smell of the first day of spring. The sun feels delightfully warm on your skin and your magic feels stronger, your senses heightened due to the spring equinox, allowing you to detect even the slightest shift in the magic flowing through the earth. During every solstice and every equinox, your magic is at its peak and you can’t help but be excited every time it happens. You’re not particularly sure why this happens, nobody had ever explained it to you, but it just felt good to know just how connected you are with the earth below you.

You trail behind Jaemin and his mother as they walk to the market, the boy animatedly telling his mother about the squirrel that sat next to him yesterday in the garden. He’s waving his arms every which way, his eyes sparkling while the smile never leaves his face, and in that moment, you can see the uncanny resemblance between mother and son as she smiles down at him.

As his mother looks through a stall’s vegetables, a group of kids calls out to Jaemin, asking him to play with them. The boy turns to his mother, barely opening his mouth before she urges him forward with a, “Go play with your friends, darling. Just don’t be home too late.” He parts from her with a tight hug, a wide smile on his face as he runs towards his friends, the group of boys getting lost in the bustling crowd as you simply stand and watch. You decide to leave Jaemin be for now, allowing yourself some alone time as you wander the streets and browse through the various things that people are selling.

When the sun is at its highest point in the sky, the day finds you in the town square, sitting on the edge of a fountain as you bite into an apple. You tilt your face upwards as you chew, closing your eyes to let all of the sounds and smells wash over you. The beginnings of drowsiness begin to creep up on your body, but when you hear the loud voices of a group of boys, your ears perk up, eyes opening to see what all the commotion is about.

“I can’t believe Jaemin would really just leave us like that, we were in the middle of a game!” a dark-haired boy, whose name you think is Hyunjin, exclaims.

The 3 other boys with him shrug their shoulders, one of them saying, “Maybe his mother wanted him home early.

You jump up from your seat on the fountain, the apple in your hand falling to the ground as you pull out your wand from your sleeve. Jaemin always came back home by going through the town square because he loved to stop by the bakery to get something sweet to eat. You hadn’t sensed him near you or seen him walk by and you feel your stomach tighten at your worry. Trusting your gut, you wave your wand to transport yourself to wherever Jaemin is.

Leaves crunch underneath your feet when you materialize, the air around you a bit cooler due to the shade that was provided by the forest that you suddenly find yourself in. You can sense Jaemin near you and follow your gut once more, stumbling upon a small clearing and seeing him sitting on a tree stump in the middle. A small, white daisy is pinched between his thumb and forefinger, the boy subconsciously twirling it as he looks around him. Feeling a sense of déjà vu, you rid yourself of the invisibility spell and slowly walk towards the boy, a soft smile appearing on your face when his head whips towards you and the two of you make eye contact.

At your appearance, Jaemin’s eyes widen and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head. You can’t help but smile wider at his expression, stopping halfway between the edge of the clearing and where Jaemin is seated. “Hello, Jaemin,” you greet him. “Are you lost?”

Jaemin’s mouth opens and closes for a few seconds, the boy at a loss for words as he stares at you with a mix of shock and wariness. “I-It’s you,” he whispers hoarsely. He clears his throat and continues, “You were the woman in the tree. From before.”

You nod at his words with your hands clasped loosely in front of you, the breeze ruffling your robe around your ankles. “I’m not just a dream like you told yourself,” you chuckle, taking a few steps closer when you see his body relax, though you notice a flush creeping up his neck from your words. “I’m-“

“My fairy godmother.” You look at Jaemin in surprise, the boy flushing an even darker red when he realizes that he interrupted you. You continue walking towards him as he continues talking. “Sorry. But that’s who you are, right? (Y/N), my fairy godmother? My mother would always tell me stories about them when I was younger, but I never really believed her. You’re really real?”

“As real as the trees around us,” you respond, patting the tree stump that he’s sitting on to emphasize your point. “I’ve been watching over you ever since you were born.” Albeit a bit unwillingly, you think to yourself, but he doesn’t have to know that. He scoots over and you sit beside him, looking up at him with a small smile. Whatever it takes to get Jaemin to trust you, right? You are the one responsible for helping him find true happiness after all. You take the white flower from his hand and place it in his hair, and you’re reminded of when Taeyong would do that to you. You spent every day in that florist’s shop, and every day he would place a flower in your hair and your cheeks would turn as red as a tomato, just like Jaemin’s are doing right now. Your chest tightens as you remember Taeyong, but you shake the memories away in favor of staying in the moment. You can’t afford to get distracted right now.

Jaemin continues to stare at you in awe and you can feel your cheeks heat up a bit at all of the attention. “So,” you say after clearing your throat, wanting to keep the conversation going to fill up the awkward silence. “How about we get out of here, hm?”

Jaemin is only 10 years old when his mother dies.

Standing invisible next to the boy as he holds her hand, you can’t help but shed a few tears for the woman who has strangely come to feel like family to you. She was the spot of sunshine in Jaemin’s life; he would greet her with a bone-crushing hug and sloppy kiss when she came home and would hold her hand every chance he got. His mother meant absolutely everything to him, and you would feel your heart swell at how happy the two would look together. And now their time together, as short as it was in the grand scheme of things, is coming to an end.

You place a hand on Jaemin’s shoulder, the boy barely acknowledging the invisible touch that he knows is from you as your thumb rubs circles into the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to soothe him. You can practically hear his heart break when his mother gives him a weak smile, the sorrow in her eyes telling you that she knows that she only has a few moments left with her son. Her hand shakes as she reaches out to place something in his hand. There’s a flash of gold and then it’s gone, Jaemin’s mother curling his fingers over the object as tears slide down both of their cheeks.

“We’ll meet again soon, I promise,” she rasps out, wiping away her son’s tears as he looks on with a pained expression. “But until that day comes, just know that I will always be with you. And should you need a reminder, you can always open that.”

Jaemin looks down at his hand and opens it, his breath catching in his throat when he sees his mother’s gold locket in his hand—the same locket that his father had given to her for their first wedding anniversary. With her encouragement, he opens it to reveal a piece of paper with the words I love you in her handwriting.

That same night, Jaemin’s mother dies and the note in the locket has an additional line: I miss you.

At the age of 12, Jaemin’s father tells his son that he’s met someone.

“Is she nice?” is definitely not what he or you expect Jaemin’s initial reaction to be. But then again, he is his wife’s son. Jaemin knew that one day, his father would move on and so would he, and so he accepted the fact that their small family would grow again some day.

His father tells him that she’s a widow with 2 sons, both of them the same age as him. She had married into nobility but when her husband died of a heart attack, she suddenly stopped receiving financial support from her family. Jaemin feels his heart sink at that; family is family, no matter what. Who could be so cruel as to cut off their loved ones completely like that? Unlike Jaemin, you’re a bit wary of this stranger and her 2 children who are suddenly coming into Jaemin’s life, having felt more and more protective of him as the years went by and especially after his mother died. But for his benefit, you decide to remain positive; after all, he had been raised as an only child for so long, so it would be good for him to finally have company in the large estate.

Days turn into weeks which turn into months, and one year later, you find yourself watching Jaemin lug the last of his stepmother’s trunks into the foyer. You try to keep a scowl off your face as he does so, your distaste in the new members of his family already having been discussed with him previously. You had tried to tell him that they aren’t who they say they are, that you had seen her sons stealing in the marketplace while she turns a blind eye, had seen his stepmother flirting with the widowed butcher for some extra meat, and had seen those boys ruining his mother’s flower garden in the front yard by running through it. But he didn’t listen, always coming up with excuses for them: “You must have been mistaken, the marketplace is always busy so it could’ve been anyone!”, “Perhaps she was just being nice, did you even hear their conversation?”, “The soil needed to be turned anyways, so if anything, they helped!”

The last excuse had surprised you, probably even himself as well, because you had seen a flash of hurt cross Jaemin’s face when you mentioned the flowers. Gardening was something he only ever did with his mother, always offering to carry the bags of soil or the heaviest flower pots. The two would work tirelessly to create the most beautiful plots, their clothes soaked-through with sweat and Jaemin’s entire body covered in dirt by the time they were done.You had hoped that he would get back into it after a while, but after seeing him burst into tears whenever he tried, you suppose it’s better that he stopped.

He looks over at Donghyuck and Renjun (his new brothers, he reminds himself) lounging around in the living room, brushing it off when he sees them throwing a ball back and forth—they were probably tired from all of the packing and the journey to their new house. Meanwhile, you’re narrowing your eyes at the two boys because something is telling you that their exhaustion is just an act.

“That’s the last of them, stepmother,” Jaemin says cheerily as he turns to the woman in question. She gets up from where she was sitting on the grand staircase, warm smile on her face as she approaches him. Your eyes follow her figure as you sit on the railing of the stairs, legs swinging in tandem with the swish of her hips.

“Thank you very much for your help, Jaemin,” she says while pulling him into a one-armed hug, the other preoccupied with holding her rather mean-looking cat. “We’re all very tired from the move, as you can imagine. Even poor Woong-ie is exhausted.” She holds up the cat in front of Jaemin’s face and he reaches out to pet him, but jumps back when the feline hisses and tries to scratch him.

“I don’t think he likes me very much,” Jaemin says sheepishly, glancing at the cat once more and shocked to find it glaring at him. You shoot daggers at the animal, smirking when you see its fur beginning to stand; even though it can’t see you, it can still sense you.

Just then, Jaemin’s father comes down from upstairs, announcing, “Your mother and I are going out tonight so that you boys can get to know one another without the adults around.” He smiles at his son, ruffling his hair as his new wife links arms with him. “We won’t be home late. Be good.”

“Always,” Jaemin replies after giggling and pushing his father’s hand away. He closes the door behind his parents before entering the living room. “So what do you guys want to do first?”

“Jaemin, Renjun and I are very tired,” Donghyuck sighs as he catches the ball that his brother throws to him without even looking, you rolling your eyes at how dramatic the boy sounds. “Would you mind taking our things up to our rooms? We can get to know one another after.

“Of course!” Jaemin exclaims, and you could tell that he was mentally berating himself for asking his brothers to play when he already knew how tired they were (though he didn’t actually know, much to your disdain).

He picks up two of the trunks and begins his trek up the stairs, eyes widening and head shaking back and forth frantically when you materialize. The trunks float out of his hands and up the stairs and Jaemin has to stop himself from squeaking, scrambling up the stairs and grabbing them before his brothers could see. “(Y/N), have you gone mad?” he hisses at you as he takes the stairs two at a time. “What if they suddenly come out and see you?”

With a sigh, you slip your wand back into your sleeve, quietly lowering the remaining suitcases back on to the ground before he could notice. “Jaemin, you’re tired too,” you chastise him as you follow him to their bedrooms. “You already carried all of their things into the house, I don’t see why they can’t take their things up to their rooms.”

Jaemin waves off your grumbling, bounding down the stairs to grab another two trunks. “I need the exercise anyways,” he says with a wide smile. “I haven’t been getting as much since I stopped gardening.”

Your shoulders sag when he says that, eyes following him wordlessly as he continues. He lugs the six trunks to their respective rooms after denying your help, and you wonder just how much stuff they own as he makes his way down the stairs once the last one was placed in Renjun’s room. He stands in front of the stairs with his hands on his hips, panting from the effort as he looks around at the finally empty foyer. With a satisfied sigh, he makes his way back towards the living room, almost tripping over Woong in the process, only to find his brothers gone and the front door ajar.

Another year passes, and Jaemin faces nothing but open doors and empty rooms; nothing has changed. Jaemin is still kind as ever to his stepmother and siblings, blissfully unaware at the fact that he’s constantly being taken advantage of. His father doesn’t take notice of these things because he spends almost all of his time at work now to make ends meet for his 2 new sons, wanting nothing more than to eat dinner and go to bed when he comes home. But then all of a sudden, everything changes.

At the age of 14, Jaemin’s father dies. And you are the only person that Jaemin has left.

At the sound of the first bell chime, you appear in Jaemin’s room perched on the windowsill, the sun warm on your back. At the third bell chime, you sigh because you know you’re going to have to force him out of bed again. At the final seventh bell chime, you wave your hand and the blankets are ripped off of him, the boy groaning the second his body is exposed to the chilly morning air. You watch in amusement as he blindly fumbles around for the blanket, huffing out a laugh when he sits up to glare at you with his hair sticking up in different directions. “Can’t you just let me sleep in for once? It’s been 5 years, I deserve at least 10 more minutes.” He squints against the morning sunlight, hands coming up and running through his hair in an attempt to flatten it down.

The way his hair is sticking up and his tired grumbling remind you of Jaehyun and how difficult it was to get him up in the mornings, but you quickly push those memories down. Jaehyun was the past, you have to focus on Jaemin now. No use in thinking about what could’ve been with him; what could’ve been with any of them had you not been cursed. “Excuse me, I seem to recall that you are the one that asked me to wake you up every day if you weren’t up by the seventh bell,” you retort, flicking your wrist so that the blanket is thrown in his face. “I’m just doing what you told me to.”

“Yeah well, maybe the reason I’m not truly happy yet is because I have to wake up so early,” Jaemin jokes, his natural good mood already starting to appear. “Let me wash up and then I’ll get started.”

You nod at that, leaving his room in the tower quietly to allow him to get ready for the day. At this early in the morning, you knew that no one else would be awake so you take the time to walk through the deteriorating estate. With a wave of your wand, the windows, curtains, and carpet in the corridor are cleaned, the remaining bits of lingering magic leaving a soapy scent in the air. You try not to interfere with Jaemin’s chores too much, per his request, but sometimes you just can’t help yourself. You stop in front of a large portrait of his father and sigh, your mind wandering back to the early days of Jaemin’s father’s death.

You remember how absolutely heartbroken he was to go through the death of his other parent, knowing that although he still had a family, his true family was gone. But just as always, he pushed through. He did everything he could to help around the house, and as money continuously got tight, more and more of the staff left until it was just Jaemin. And you knew the truth; you knew that his stepmother and step-brothers were just squirreling it away for themselves, only providing the bare minimum to put food on the table and to buy new clothes. You knew the truth and you told him, but Jaemin refused to let that stop him because if he did, who would do all of the work that needed to get done? So for the past 5 years, Jaemin has essentially been a servant for his family, cooking and cleaning and taking care of the animals in his family’s huge estate because there’s no one else. And you have hated every minute of it.

“(Y/N), what did I tell you about doing my chores for me,” Jaemin chastises you, stopping to stare at the portrait of his father next to you with a smile on his face.

“It was just the corridor this time, I didn’t do anything else,” you huff as you cross your arms, your heart jumping in your chest when you look up to see Jaemin smiling down at you. Out of all of the people you’ve been sent to help, Jaemin is definitely your favorite. With a heart of gold, bright smile, and sparkling eyes, it’s hard not to fall in love with him.

For the rest of the day, you follow Jaemin around as he does his various tasks around the house, talking to him and keeping him company while you watch. You don’t even bother to try to help him secretly because you know he’ll just end up catching you anyways (he somehow always knows, and part of you wonders if he’s able to detect magic). A drop of sweat slides down the side of his face as he scatters food along the ground for the chickens and you walk over with a towel to wipe it away. He smiles at you gratefully and you falter, the towel lingering against his face as you stare up at him. He’s certainly not the same quiet little 4 year old that got his ball stuck in a tree, you think to yourself as you appreciate the angles of his face, face flushing as the two of you continue to stare at each other. Jaemin opens his mouth to say something and you can feel yourself leaning closer to him, but the moment is interrupted by the ringing of 3 bells.

“Jaemin!” 3 voices yell simultaneously, and you sigh as Jaemin rushes inside, scrambling to balance the 3 trays in his hands to bring to his family for their morning tea.

“Open in the name of the King!” a gruff voice yells from outside following 3 loud knocks. Your back straightens as Jaemin scrambles to get up from where he was sat on the floor, rag and bucket of soapy water abandoned as he opens the door. He reveals a man dressed in uniform, various medals decorating his chest as he exclaims, “An urgent message from His Imperial Majesty!” He pulls out an envelope from inside his jacket and hands it to Jaemin, bowing deeply while the boy stutters out his thanks, and Jaemin watches as he scurries back into his carriage, presumably to deliver more letters.

You stand on your toes to try to peer at the letter from behind him, calves straining as you struggle you get higher. You don’t notice the way you’re leaning on him and holding on to his arm for a better look until your eyes flick up and are staring directly into his. You almost choke at the close proximity and immediately take a small step back, tucking your hair behind your ear as you keep your eyes on the envelope in his hands. The curse, you remind yourself. Remember the curse. But it’s no use; you love him, there’s no denying that. “W-What does it say?” you stutter, a frown appearing on your face when Jaemin suddenly turns and begins to make his way upstairs. “Where are you going?”

He stops on the stairs to smile at you, waiting for you to catch up as he runs his thumb over the ink on the envelope. “You know that stepmother will have my head on a plate if I dared to open this before her.” He shakes his head at you before continuing up the stairs, the strumming of a guitar becoming clearer as you walked. “Besides, I think it’s time for their music lesson to have a break, don’t you think?” You laugh at that, Renjun’s incorrect guitar chords and Donghyuck’s unstable vocals making the both of you wince as you get closer to the study.

At the sound of Jaemin’s knock, Donghyuck stops singing and you hear the bang of piano keys before his mother lets out a sharp, “Yes?”

Jaemin opens the door slowly, face sheepish as his gaze meets the smug ones of his siblings. “I’m sorry to interrupt-“

“Then you shouldn’t have in the first place,” Donghyuck sneers, he and Renjun laughing to themselves as their mother shushes them with a smile on her face.

“B-But this letter just arrived from the palace,” Jaemin stutters out, and you swear that you could hear his heart racing in his chest from Donghyuck’s teasing. Your hands tighten into fists at your side but you urge yourself to calm down, knowing that there’s unfortunately nothing you can do.

“From the palace?” Renjun repeats, him and his brother rushing over to rip the letter from Jaemin’s hands. “Give it to me!” He and his brother fight over who gets to open the envelope, their mother grabbing it from the both of them before they could ruin it.

“Boys, calm yourselves,” she scolds them softly, the both of them rolling their eyes before urging her to read it. “There’s to be a ball,” she gasps, looking up at her sons with wide eyes.

“A ball?” they repeat, equally as shocked.

“In honor of Her Highness, the princess,” their mother continues.

“The princess?” the boys repeat once again. You’re starting to wonder if this family has more than 3 collective brain cells, 2 of which belong to their mother.

“And,” she finishes, pausing for what you guess is dramatic effect. “By royal command, every eligible gentleman is to attend.”

“That’s us!” Renjun exclaims, grasping his brother’s shoulder tightly as he looks at him excitedly.

“And I am much more than eligible,” Donghyuck smirks, a hand coming up to run through his hair to sweep it back.

“That means I can go too!” Jaemin gasps as he steps forward to glance at the letter. He steps back when his family looks up at him, and you take a protective stance in front of him, invisibly glaring at his step-siblings as they laugh at him. “Why are you laughing? I’m still part of the family. And besides, it said ‘by royal command, every eligible gentleman is to attend’. I have to go!”

“Just imagine you dancing with the princess?” Renjun guffaws, he and his brother falling over each other from how hard they were laughing. “Oh, I would be honored, Your Highness! And might I say that my dish rag goes very well with your dress!” The two of them dance in a circle to mock Jaemin even more, Jaemin’s shoulders sagging at their words.

“The dirt underneath the princess’s shoes is worth more than the dirt on your face,” Donghyuck sneers, letting out a laugh when Jaemin subconsciously rubs at his cheek. “Face it, Jaemin, you’re just going to embarrass us.”

“Boys, that’s enough,” their mother finally says, effectively quieting them. “Now I see no reason for Jaemin to not attend the ball as well.” Jaemin’s eyes, as well as yours, widen at her words; where had this sudden change of heart come from? “That is,” she says, turning her eyes directly on him and raising an eyebrow. “If you get your chores done. And of course, if you’re able to find something suitable to wear.”

Jaemin reveals his outfit to you with a flourish, grinning from ear to ear as he holds it in front of his body and admires himself in the mirror. “It was my father’s,” Jaemin says softly. “He outgrew it and knew that I would grow into it. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

You will admit, it is quite beautiful. The jacket and vest are a deep red color with gold trimming and gold vines around the wrist and upper chest area. There are gold buttons on each side of the opening, and the back is longer than the front. The pants had a similar design with the vines running down the side of the legs. But you just couldn’t get over the number of ruffles and dangly bits around every single edge of clothing possible. “It is beautiful,” you agree. “But perhaps a bit… Outdated.”

He chuckles softly at that, looking down at the floor before looking back up at you. “The ruffles and things are a bit much, aren’t they?” he asks, wrinkling his nose in response to you wrinkling your own and nodding. “Well that’s no matter. I’ve actually been planning out how I want to fix this up for a few years now.” He crouches down and begins searching for something at the bottom of his wardrobe, his voice muffled as he continues, “I drew it out in the back of an old design book that mother had… If only I could find it…” Just before Jaemin can begin his search in the very back of his closet, the shrill shriek of his stepmother’s voice calling for him makes him jump. He lets out a sigh as he stands up, squeezing his eyes shut as you brush the dust out of his hair. He smiles at you gratefully and then runs towards the door, casting one more glance back at you and his father’s suit before running down the stairs.

“He’s never going to be able to fix this if that wench keeps calling him down for useless chores,” you mutter to yourself, rubbing the fabric of the sleeve between your thumb and forefinger as you get lost in thought. You know that Jaemin’s stepmother has every intention of keeping him busy until the ball, but maybe…

Your posture straightens when Donghyuck’s voice floats up from downstairs, complaining about his black trousers having a stain on them and “how am I supposed to marry the princess with a stain on my trousers, mother?” The gears in your brain begin to turn when Renjun’s voice immediately follows with a “I’ve had this shirt for nearly two years now, I have nothing new to wear!” After a slam and a thud, you’re bounding down the tower stairs so fast that it feels as if the winds of Zephyr himself were carrying you down. Lying on the floor of the foyer is a pile of clothes deemed unworthy by Renjun and Donghyuck’s standards but considered a luxury in Jaemin’s eyes. You pick out the pants with the stain and Renjun’s “old” shirt, rifling through the pile for anything else that could be of use. You hear a door open behind you and immediately turn around, the breath that you had unknowingly been holding exiting your mouth in a soft sigh when you see that it’s just Woong. The feline regards you with narrowed eyes and lets out a hiss at your presence, scurrying out of the room when you narrow your eyes in response.

“Evil cat,” you mumble, gaze still following him as he enters a different room in the house. You gather your things and make your way back up to Jaemin’s room, careful to turn yourself invisible this time in case any of his family was walking around. Once you’re back in his room, you lay out the pants on his bed and place the jacket and shirt beside it. You pull out your wand from your sleeve and get to work, the tip glowing a bright orange as you drag it along the edges of the jacket to remove the fringe and ruffles. It changes to a bright blue color when you move to the dirty clothes and tap your wand on the stains, watching with a satisfied smile as they disappear. You get rid of the design on the buttons of the jacket and vest so that they’re a plain gold and get Jaemin’s nicest pair of shoes from his closet to place them on the floor. With a wave of your hand, the outfit is hung up against the door of the wardrobe and hidden away, waiting to be revealed once Jaemin comes back.

You fall asleep on Jaemin’s bed while waiting for him to finish his chores, your dreams filled with the people that you’ve fallen in love with while helping them find their true happiness. You dream about Jaehyun and his bride-to-be, Sooyoung and her husband in her newly opened bakery, Taeyong and the first time he sets eyes on his lover in his flower shop. Your memories swirl around you in a haze of heartbreak and reluctance, the anger that you feel towards the gods only temporary because you know that no matter what you do, nothing will convince them to lift the curse of Calypso. Jaemin materializes in front of you and you reach out to him, your fingers just brushing against his when he disappears, only to reappear a few feet away from you, smiling at a figure next to him. You can’t make out any features but even in your dream state, you know what this means. His true happiness will reveal itself to him soon.

Your eyes flutter open just as Jaemin’s bedroom door opens, his shoulders slumped as he drags his feet towards the window. “You’re back,” you croak, voice thick with sleep. Jaemin merely hums in response, gaze refusing to leave the night sky above him. You feel sad as you look at him, the feelings from your dream still lingering, but you can feel something else; his own sadness as he looks up at the stars. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the ball?”

Jaemin turns around to reveal his sad smile to you, fingers drumming against the wooden window frame as he shakes his head at you. “My chores took a lot longer than I thought,” he shrugs, and you can tell that he’s trying his best to not look too upset. “Stepmother, Hyuck, and Renjun will be leaving soon and I don’t have enough time to fix father’s suit.”

“About that…” you trail off as you suppress the smile threatening to appear on your face. You wave your wand to open his wardrobe door, revealing to him his outfit of the night. “Ta-da!”

“(Y/N), you… You did this for me?” Jaemin asks in awe, one hand coming up to touch the jacket but withdrawing a second later, as if the clothing would disappear if he were to touch it.

“No, I actually made this for me to wear,” you tease him as you get up from the bed. “Of course I did it for you, silly. Now hurry up and put it on, the carriage will be here soon.”

You and Jaemin run down the grand staircase just as his family is beginning to head out the door, Jaemin’s shouts of “Wait! Wait for me!” stopping them in their tracks. Renjun’s and Donghyuck’s jaws drop as he runs up to them, his hands smoothing over the jacket as he beams at them. “Isn’t it stunning? Do you like it?” At his words, his stepbrothers immediately begin to protest to their mother, and you can’t help but smirk at them invisibly from behind Jaemin.

“Boys, that’s enough,” their mother scolds them, stepping forward towards Jaemin while her sons pout from behind her. “The pants suit you well, Jaemin. Don’t you agree, Hyuckie?” She turns to raise an eyebrow at him as she pinches at the fabric, and you feel yourself stiffen at her question.

“I guess,” Donghyuck replies with dismissive wave, eyes widening when he sees what his mother wants him to see. “Wait, those are my pants! Take them off!” He runs forward and grabs at the waist of Jaemin’s pants, tugging on the fabric harshly while demanding that he take them off.

“And that shirt, that’s my shirt!” Renjun shrieks, running forward to rip Jaemin’s jacket off to get at his shirt.

Jaemin’s protests are drowned out by their shrieks, their hands fluttering around him as they pinch and pull at his outfit until all that’s left is shreds of clothing, his father’s jacket lying torn at his feet. Your eyes don’t know where to look as they flick from Jaemin to his step-brothers to his stepmother. You see Jaemin’s resolve cracking with each hand they lay on him, the irritation and power radiating off of Donghyuck and Renjun as they tear their brother down, and the satisfaction and smugness in the form of a smirk and raised eyebrows on Jaemin’s stepmother. All of this is happening and you can’t do anything but watch, forced to keep yourself hidden from his family rather than stepping in to protect the boy you’ve come to love.

“Boys, boys!” their mother yells, her voice making all of you freeze in place and immediately getting her sons to stop and return to her side. “That’s quite enough. Let’s go, the carriage is waiting.” The three of them make their way towards the front door looking very satisfied with themselves, and all you and Jaemin can do is watch as they get farther away. “Goodnight,” she says with a smile before shutting the door with a dull thud. And that’s when it all comes crashing down.

You turn to Jaemin with wide eyes, your hands shaking with rage when you see him beginning to tremble. “Jaemin,” you say, unsure of what you could possibly say to make him feel better in this situation. He lets out a pained sob and you feel your heart break at just how sad he sounds. “Jaemin, I-”

Before you can get any closer, he runs. And you let him run past you, allowing him a few moments to himself before beginning your search. You let the sound of his cries guide you to him, gaze softening when you see him at the tree in the corner of the garden. His head is buried in his arms as he sobs on a stone bench, and you’re able to make out a faint “It’s not fair,” as you approach him. You sit on the bench beside his head, your hand coming up to stroke his hair as he continues to cry. “It’s not fair, (Y/N), it just isn’t fair,” he cries, his emotions so strong that they cause your own tears to form. “I’ve tried so hard for so long to believe. Believe that you could help me, believe that I could help myself. But maybe this is just how it’s going to be. Maybe this is where I’m meant to be.”

As he continues to cry beside you, an aura of magic begins to glow around the two of you. It becomes brighter and brighter and the raw power that it exudes becomes stronger and stronger, and you know that your time with Jaemin is coming to an end soon. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you chide. “Everyone deserves to be happy, especially you.” You push his hair away from his face and coax him to look up at you, wiping at his tear-stained cheeks as you smile down at him. “It’s time, Jaemin. It’s time for you to find your true happiness.” You pull him with you as you stand up, giving him your widest smile as you try to hide just how bittersweet this really is for you. “You’re going to Princess Chaeyoung’s ball tonight, I’m making sure of it.”

“But how?” he sniffles, hands squeezing yours as his eyes water once more. “Father’s suit is ruined and I have no way of getting to the palace.”

“Have you forgotten who I am?” you tease as you reveal your wand to him. “Your stepmother may have had a few tricks up her sleeve, but I have a magic wand up mine.” Your heart skips a beat when Jaemin beams at you, hands balling into fists in excitement. “Now close your eyes and count to 20.”

As Jaemin begins counting, the tattered clothes on his body begin to shimmer and transform. The tree behind him uproots itself and bends and twists into the shape of a carriage while 7 chickens are summoned from the barn, 6 to be turned into horses while the last is turned into a coachmen. You look down and see a golden glow around your entire body as the magic does its work, and you can’t help but grimace at the sight. All of this power flowing through your veins and for what? The gods will allow you to use your magic to help people find true happiness but they have forbidden you from using it to find your own. You’ve tried fighting back against your destiny, against this curse, for so long, but they are always watching.

“Open your eyes,” you say to him when he finishes counting. Behind you sits his horse-drawn carriage, its proud coachmen standing beside it. And in front of you stands the boy you’ve fallen in love with, looking handsome as ever and one step closer to getting his happy ending. You smile softly as he looks at his new outfit, the dark blue velvet of his jacket making the silver detailing stand out nicely. “I kept the original design of your father’s jacket, just made a few changes,” you explain. “I think blue suits you better.”

With a wave of your wand, you produce a mirror for Jaemin to look at himself in, moving so that you can stand behind him as he analyzes your work. He first fiddles with the jacket, his fingers running over the vines at his chest and the ones running down his sleeves. He then turns every which way to look at the black trousers you’ve created, the silver vines once again running down the sides. Jaemin makes eye contact with you through the mirror and beams brightly at you. “You’ve truly outdone yourself,” he compliments you, spinning around and opening his arms to pull you into a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you, (Y/N), this really means a lot to me.”

He pulls away from you to stare into your eyes, his own sparkling as he continues to smile down at you. You clear your throat and take a step back from him, willing your heart to stop beating so fast as you explain, “The spell will only last until midnight-”

“That long? Oh, that’s more than enough time,” Jaemin interrupts you out of excitement.

You give him a pointed look, which quiets him down, and continue. “So make sure you’re home by then. I’ll be more specific: at the first stroke of midnight, the spell will begin to wear off. If you are still at the ball by the twelfth stroke, you will be stuck at the palace in your tattered clothes. Make sure you’re home before then.”

Jaemin nods along with your words with wide eyes, walking with you as you lead him to the carriage. “I’ll be home by midnight, I promise.”

You nod and open the door for him, watching as he looks at the lush interior and then back at you, excitement dancing in his eyes. “Go,” you urge him softly. “You have a ball to get to.”

You close the door behind him and watch as the carriage gets smaller and smaller, your stomach feeling like it’s going to turn itself inside out the farther it gets from you—the farther Jaemin gets from you. Before the rational part of your brain can stop you, you wave your wand, and suddenly you’re sitting next to the coachmen. Invisible to all, even Jaemin, you close your eyes as the wind whips your hair back, mentally preparing yourself for the heartbreak that you know will eventually come.

Jaemin is very careful as he walks around the castle towards the grand ballroom, the only sound he hears being the music and muffled chatter from the party getting louder the closer he gets. You’ve never been in a castle yourself so the both of you are taking your time as you walk up the staircase, your eyes wide as you try to take everything in. From the plush carpet underneath your feet to the marble columns on either side of you to the molding and artwork on the ceiling above you, you had never seen anything like it before.

The two of you enter the ballroom, invisible to everyone (but you more so) because their eyes were drawn to Princess Chaeyoung at the front of the room who was greeting every gentleman of every family that has come to seek her hand in marriage. A few steps behind her is her brother, Prince Jeno, and behind him sits their parents, the king and queen. Jeno looks rather bored from what you can tell from the expression on his face, and you can’t help but chuckle when you see him stifle a yawn. The prince’s eyes wander around the room as his sister continues to greet their guests, landing on something that piques his interest and causes his eyebrows to furrow. You follow his gaze and your eyes land on Jaemin, who’s wandering around the edge of the room and peering at the long velvet curtains and the windows that they cover.

After the princess is done greeting all of her guests, 2 of whom were unfortunately Jaemin’s step-brothers (the both of you had to suppress a grimace at just how hard they tried to impress her in those 10 seconds they had her attention), the king requests a waltz. You hear suppressed groans when all of the young boys around you see that Princess Chaeyoung is dancing with her father for the first dance, and you struggle to not bump into anyone as they all scramble to find a dancing partner. From the corner of your eye, you can see Jaemin also doing the same but he ends up getting pushed in the process, and you begin to rush over to help him when you realize that he doesn’t even know you’re there. And besides, someone had already beat you to it.

Your eyes follow the hand that’s offered to Jaemin, and you feel your heart sink a bit when they’re met with Jeno’s smiling face. Jaemin takes it with a smile, and you watch as the two boys continue to stare at each other. “Hello,” Jeno greets him, and that’s when Jaemin realizes that his hand is still in his, causing him to take a step back as he lets go and bump into the balcony doors behind him as he tries to stutter out a response. “My name is Jeno.”

“Y-Your Majesty,” Jaemin responds, bowing lowly which causes Jeno’s mouth to open and close in surprise, resembling a fish. “Th-Thank you for the help.”

“Oh, you don’t need to call me that,” Jeno says as he rubs at the back of his neck, face flushing red from embarrassment. “Just Jeno is fine.” The two stare at the floor as they stand in front of each other, both of their faces red as the awkward silence stretches over them. “Do you… want to go outside for a bit?”

Jaemin nods quickly. Anything to get out of this busy crowd. Jeno shuffles behind him and opens the balcony doors, the two of them taking deep breaths of fresh air the second they step outside. You seat yourself on the railing as they stare out into the distance, Jaemin’s eyes sparkling as he gazes out at the town below him. His head turns in your direction and you freeze when his eyes land on you—or well, through you, looking at his family’s estate.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, tearing his eyes away from you to look back out at the view right in front of him, the lights down below making his face glow a dull orange.

Yeah, you think to yourself softly. You are.

Jaemin and Jeno continue to enjoy the view and each other’s company in silence, glad to be away from the bustling crowd and all of the boys vying for the princess’s attention. You block out their conversation as Jaemin asks Jeno about life in the palace and Jeno asks Jaemin about life outside of the palace. With each smile that appears on Jaemin’s face and each laugh that Jeno lets out, your heart sinks further and further. You get up from your spot on the rail and drift down into the palace gardens, no longer in the mood to be at the ball.

You know what’s coming.

“Jaemin?” you call out, approaching him from behind. He slowly turns to face you, his mother’s locket clenched in his hands. “Are you okay?”

“This was the best night of my life,” he says softly, a fond smile on his face as he looks up at the star-filled night sky. He had just watched his carriage turn back into the tree in the corner of the garden that it originally was, and he can’t help but feel like there’s magic all around him still. “I’m more than okay. But I guess not everything is meant to go as planned.”

“What happened?” you ask, steeling yourself for anything. What could have gone wrong tonight?

He walks forward and shows you the locket, his mother’s face smiling up at you as you look down. There wasn’t a scratch on it. But something felt...wrong. “The note from my mother,” he explains, answering your unasked question. “It’s gone. I stopped outside the palace before leaving and I opened it, just to talk to her for a second, but the knights were catching up to me so I had to run and-” Jaemin pauses, laughing at the confusion on your face. He forgot that you weren’t with him at the ball tonight. “I’ll explain it later. But I guess the wind must have blown it away.”

“W-We can go to the palace and look for it, I’m sure it’s still near wherever you opened the locket,” you reassure him frantically, trying to calm your own rising panic because you know how much that locket and note mean to Jaemin. “We can-”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off with a hand on your shoulder, soft smile still on his face. “I don’t need a note to keep her close. I know that she’s always with me.” You feel your lower lip wobble at his words, tears brimming in your eyes as you think back to the 10 year old boy who could barely step outside without crying. With a sniffle, you wrap your arms around his middle and shove your face into his chest, your tears soaking his white shirt. He pulls you back and his eyes look over you frantically, trying to figure out why you’re suddenly crying. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?”

After a few deep breaths and a few seconds to clear your throat, you finally look up at him with watery eyes. “I have been watching over you since the moment you were born, Na Jaemin. I heard your first cry, watched your first steps, heard your first word. I held you close when your mother died, wiped your tears when your father died, and stayed by your side every day. You’ve been through and have grown so much and yet somehow, you’re still the same little boy with a heart of gold that I first met. And I am so so proud of you. It’s truly an honor to know you.” You close your mouth before you can continue, knowing that if you do, you would say the three words you’ve been hiding for so long—the three words that could ruin everything.

“(Y/N),” he breathes out, his own eyes watering from just how moved he is by your words. “Wh-What’s gotten into you, why are you saying all of this? You’ve never-”

His words are cut off when he hears the faint crunch of gravel in the distance, letting him know that his family is coming home. The two of you rush back into the house and up the stairs, the loud voices of his stepmother and step-siblings drifting all the way up to his bedroom where Jaemin lays with a smile on his face. He made a new friend tonight and his best friend just told him she’s proud of him. Life is good.

It’s the next day and Jaemin couldn’t be happier. The two of you are currently in the music room and you’re watching Jaemin sweep while his brothers fool around on the other side of the room, waiting for their mother to come home and start their lesson. You’re perched on top of the grand piano, legs swinging, and you keep shooting funny faces at Jaemin while he does his chores, smiling when you see him try his best to stifle his laughter.

“I wonder who that boy was,” Renjun speculates to Hyuck as they sprawl out on the chairs in the corner of the room. “That one with the blue jacket that Prince Jeno went up to during the waltz. I heard everyone around me saying that they had never seen him before.”

You feel your stomach drop at Renjun’s words, doing your best to mask your fear but keep the shock on your face as you look over at Jaemin. His back is turned to all of you but you can tell from his slow movements that he’s listening to their conversation now.

“Mother said the same thing too,” Hyuck responds as he picks the dirt out of his nails. “Maybe the prince went out to look for a suitor for the princess but they ended up becoming friends. Apparently, they stayed out on the balcony the whole night, just talking. I even heard the king say that he’s never seen Prince Jeno that friendly with a stranger before.”

Suddenly, his stepmother bursts into the room, causing all four of you to freeze and look at her. “The king,” she gasps, waving Jaemin over and handing him her coat as she tries to control her breathing. “The king has issued a proclamation. Prince Jeno is looking for the boy from last night, the one in the blue jacket. He wants this boy to train alongside him as a knight and the king is willing to appoint him as the prince’s groom of the bedchamber. The Duke has been searching the whole kingdom all night and will be arriving here soon.”

Her sons slump in their seats at her words, not understanding why she’s so worked up about this. “If the prince is looking for that boy, then why should we care? We’re not him,” Hyuck whines.

She takes a few steps forward and points at them. “Nobody knows who this boy is. The only clue that they have is a note that was found lying at the bottom of the stairs where the boy was last seen.” She lets out a sigh of frustration when she’s met with nothing but silence from them. “This means that the boy will get to live in the palace and has the possibility of marrying Princess Chaeyoung since he will already be acquainted with the royal family.”

At that, the two boys shoot out of their seats and run out of the room, only to quickly rush back in and throw piles of clothes at Jaemin. They shout demand after demand at him, telling him to wash their clothes and shine their shoes, but they’re only met with silence and a dreamy look on his face. During their mother’s explanation, you had watched as the wheels in Jaemin’s head began to turn and he understood exactly what this could mean for him; a life in the palace, a life with his new friend, a life away from his cruel family. Here is the chance he’s been waiting for, ready for him to take it.

“Mother, something’s wrong with Jaemin,” Renjun snickers, pointing at the glazed over look in his eyes to her.

“Pay attention, stupid,” Hyuck says loudly as he snaps in front of Jaemin’s face. “The Duke is going to be here soon and we need to get ready.”

Jaemin snaps out of his reverie with a shake of his head, dropping the clothes in his hands to smooth over his own clothes on his body. “Yes, we need to get ready,” he mumbles to himself, much to the confusion of the rest of his family. “We have to look nice for the Duke.” He begins to hum the waltz from last night as he walks out of the room, and you don’t miss the narrowing of his stepmother’s eyes before you exit as well.

You begin to follow him up to his room when he suddenly stops before going up the stairs, causing you to almost run face-first into his chest. “Would you mind making me a cup of tea while I get ready?” he asks you. “I just… I feel too excited right now so I need something to calm me down.”

You laugh at his explanation and nod, watching him as he makes his way to his tower before leaving your line of sight. Just as you’re about to enter the kitchen, you see his stepmother making her way up the stairs, and you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You grab the jar of tea leaves from the shelf and begin to boil some water, mulling over what she could possibly be up to this time. Suddenly, you hear Jaemin let out a distressed cry which makes you jump, and you take the kettle off the fire before running up to his room.

“Jaemin!” you shout as you bound up the stairs, breathing hard as you run. “What’s wrong?” You turn the handle but find yourself unable to, so you begin to pound on the door. “Jaemin, let me in!”

“Stepmother!” he cries out, and you can hear as well as feel him shaking the door handle in the hopes that it will somehow break and unlock. “She locked me in here! She knows, (Y/N), she somehow knows that I was the boy with Jeno last night. She’s not going to let me leave. Please, (Y/N), use your wand and get me out of here.”

You begin patting down your robe and you feel a chill run through your spine when you don’t feel your wand hidden amongst the fabric. You take it off and shake it out, thinking it’ll just fall to the floor, but you hear nothing. “Jaemin,” you say quietly, but you know that he can still hear you. “I can’t find my wand.” The both of you are silent at your confession, neither knowing what to do but not wanting to discourage the other. “I-It’s fine,” you reassure him. “I’ll just go find it, it has to be somewhere in the house.” Without waiting for a response, you run back down the stairs as you try to remember the last place you put it.

Running as fast as you can without missing anything, you check the foyer, the staircase, and the kitchen but come up empty. The last place you can think of is the music room and you pray to every single god you know that it’s there. And funnily enough, they answered your prayers. Except unfortunately, you’re still cursed because the wand is in Woong’s mouth. He’s sat at his owner’s feet, who’s asleep on one of the armchairs in the corner of the room, and is gnawing at your wand hard enough to cause sparks to fly out.

“Good kitty,” you say to him calmly as you slowly approach him. You reach your hands out towards the cat and push down a wave of irritation when the cat scoots away from you. “It’s okay, I just want what’s in your mouth.” And it’s like Woong can understand you because he bites down on it and growls lowly, glaring at you through narrowed eyes. You take a step closer and bite back a groan when he gets up and runs away from you.

It’s going to take ages to chase that damn cat around, you grumble to yourself in your head. You’re just about to go after him when you spot it: a key about to fall out of Jaemin’s stepmother’s pocket. You wave your hand in front of her sleeping face, making sure that she can’t see you and hoping that she won’t wake up from any movement, before walking closer to her. Slowly, you reach out and slide the key out from underneath her hand, almost jumping out of your skin when you hear a knock from the front door. His stepmother jumps out of her seat and you scramble to get out of her way, her dress fluttering around your ankles as she frantically fixes herself before opening the door. You quickly run back to the tower as you hear her greet the Duke and introduce her sons to him, praying that you make it in time.

You’re out of breath by the time you’re at the top of the stairs, and you’re just about to call out to Jaemin when your words die in your throat as your eyes are once again met with the demon cat. Your wand is still between his teeth and he growls at you, as if threatening to use your own wand against you. Annoyed and tired from running around, you pull back your lips and hiss at him, stunned when he lets out a yowl that causes him to drop your wand before running down the stairs. With shaking hands, you unlock the door while picking up your wand at the same time, urgently saying, “Go, Jaemin, quickly! Before he leaves!”

Jaemin whips past you and bounds down the stairs, not even bothering to check if you’re following him because he knows that you will. You can hear his family saying their goodbyes to the Duke and wishing him well, so with a wave of your wand, you give Jaemin a little push, one that puts him in the sights of the Duke at the very last second.

“Wait, Your Grace!” Jaemin exclaims from the top of the grand staircase as he waves his hands at him. “I’d like to try, if you’ll let me!”

Jaemin’s family’s eyes widen at his sudden appearance, his stepmother patting her now-empty pocket on her dress as all of them stutter out excuses as to why Jaemin shouldn’t have a chance to prove himself. Their protests fall on deaf ears though as the Duke walks forward and gestures for Jaemin to take a seat. He hands him a pen and paper and says, “This note has 2 lines of writing on it. The first says I love you, what does the second one say?”

You feel your heart clench when Jaemin lets out a soft chuckle and writes down the words he wrote all those years ago: I miss you.

You and Jaemin collapse on to his bed, the both of you tired out from packing up all of Jaemin’s things and moving them to the palace. You look around at the room and then turn your head to look at him, a fond smile appearing when you see his wide eyes staring up at the ceiling above him. His room was big, as big as his stepmother’s bedroom at his old home, and you know that it’s going to take a while for him to get used to this kind of lifestyle. Your stare lingers a little too long and you’re forced to meet his gaze when he turns to look at you with a wide smile.

“True happiness looks good on you,” you tease him, though both of you know that you really mean it. There’s no one that you’ve met that deserves to live the rest of his days in happiness more than Jaemin.

Jaemin sits up and lets out a content sigh, looking around the room once more before turning back to you. “Jeno should be here soon. Do you think it’s a good idea to tell him about you?” he asks and your breath catches in your throat at his words. He takes your silence as shock and continues, “Because I think we should get you your own room. Not that I don’t like sharing a room with you! But also I think it’ll be hard keeping you a secret because I’ll always be around people and it’ll be a bit strange if they see me talking to no one.”

You get up from his bed and stand in front of him, placing your hands on your shoulders as you look down at him with sad eyes. “I don’t need my own room-”

“Oh good, because I actually do like sharing a room with you, and I feel like this big one will make me feel lonely. Maybe-”

“Jaemin,” you cut him off. “I’m not staying here. My job is done, you don’t need me anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” Jaemin asks, not understanding what you’re saying. Don’t need you anymore? You’re his best friend, of course he needs you; he’ll always need you. “You’re my best friend! We just moved into the palace, you can’t leave!”

“I helped you find true happiness,” you explain as you take a step back and draw your hands away from him. “It’s time for us to go our separate ways.”

He grabs your wrist to prevent you from moving back, his gaze fierce as he stands up. You’ve never noticed before but he towers over you now; he really has grown up. “No,” he protests. “You can’t leave. If you do, then I won’t be truly happy. You’ve been a part of my life for 19 years, (Y/N), and you expect me to accept the fact that just because my life is better now then that means I can never see you again?”

“Please,” you plead weakly, lightly tugging at your arm in an attempt to get him to let go. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be-”

“Don’t make it hard at all then,” Jaemin argues, his brow furrowed as he looks down at you. Tears begin to form in his eyes and he wipes them away angrily. Why are you so insistent on leaving him? “Just stay.”

You hear thunder rumbling in the distance, and a quick glance at the window behind Jaemin shows you that it’s still a beautiful day outside. The gods are calling you. “I’m sorry, Jaemin,” you apologize, forcefully separating yourself from him with a watery smile. “I wish there was another way, but there’s nothing I can do.” You draw your wand out from your sleeve and raise it up with a shaky hand to point it at him. “It’s going to be alright,” you reassure him. “You’re not going to remember me anyways.”

His eyes widen and they flicker from your wand back to your face. “(Y/N)...” he trails off breathily. There are tears running down your face but your gaze is hard. Jaemin knows that there’s nothing he can do.

You want to tell him, to say those 3 little words so badly. But you can’t ruin this more than you already have. You weren’t even supposed to tell him that you’re leaving in the first place. “I’m proud of you, Jaemin, and I wish you the best. It was an honor to be by your side all these years, and you will always be my best friend.”

With a wave of your wand, a mist covers his whole body, and when he opens his eyes, he finds himself standing beside his bed. What was he doing again? Standing invisibile in front of him, you watch him look around in confusion and you can’t help but reach out a hand towards him, letting it hover over his arm. You really will miss him.

The door opens and you both look up to see Jeno standing there, concern in his gaze when he sees his friend’s confused expression. “Jaemin? Are you okay?”

Their eyes meet and Jaemin smiles widely at him, exiting the room and closing the door behind him as he reassures Jeno, “I’m fine, just had a moment of déjà vu.”

The room around you fades until there’s nothing left but a white mist floating around you. You wipe away the last of your tears as you wonder where you are. Usually you would already be meeting your new assignment by now. A glowing orb drifts down and lands in front of you, its light pulsing as it radiates warmth. “The gods have decided to be merciful,” a voice says, it’s tone soothing and low, and you wonder if it’s coming from the ball of light. “The curse shall end with you. You’ve done well, child, and it is time for you to move on.”

The orb begins to grow brighter and brighter, causing you to shield your eyes. Your ears begin to pop, as if pressure is building, and is that a faint ringing you hear? Black spots begin to dance in front of your vision and you feel yourself becoming lightheaded. What’s happening? What or who even was that? Your heart begins to race from panic and you reach out blindly as your knees give out beneath you. “Move on”? Am I becoming mortal? You open your mouth to call out to Jaemin for help, only a whispered yell leaving your lips when you remember. No… I’m dying. You remember that he’s not there, that he doesn’t even know who you are now. And that, you think, is a fate worse than death. You close your eyes. And then… nothingness.

340 notes · View notes

hungline · 5 years

Text

lasagna and cookies

pairing: taegi genre: fluff, angst, mild smut, engaged au, rated m warnings: mild sexual content, kitchen sex, oral sex, hand jobs a/n: written to fulfill my lonely christmas square for the @thereallyhappeningtaegibingo ! words: 3300

summary: Yoongi has spent every Christmas alone and then Taehyung came along and he's not sure how he should act now.

⇢ part four of love blossoms in winter

“I don’t get why you hate Christmas so much.”

Taehyung’s voice is raspy and heavy with satoori, but Yoongi knows what the younger man is trying to say so he turns over in their bed to face him. Taehyung looks blissed out, albeit he did just orgasm a few minutes before, but it’s more than that, Yoongi thinks. Taehyung has been a lot more happy and content and calm ever since they’d officially started dating. Now engaged, Yoongi can attest to the fact that Taehyung is positively glowing at almost all hours of the day.

It’s cute and it’s nice and Yoongi likes how happy them being together makes the younger man feel.

But Christmas is in a few days and Yoongi knows he’s being whiney. Whiney enough that it’s probably going to start getting on Taehyung’s nerves. Taehyung is patient with him though and Yoongi isn’t sure how he should really be acting in the following days to come.

He hates Christmas, more than Valentine's Day, but he has his reasons.

For as long as Yoongi can remember, he’s spent every Christmas alone.

It got better for him once he went to the university in Seoul. He’d met Hoseok in his sophomore year and they’d bonded over rap music. Still, when winter break would come around, Hoseok would rush back home to be with his parents and older sister and Yoongi had lazed about his dorm room eating whatever he could find.

Yoongi stayed in the surrounding area of the university after he graduated until Hoseok coaxed him towards the sea. He’d gotten a house in the suburbs of Busan and shared the place with Hoseok, then helped his best friend move his things when Jimin had asked him to move in. Taehyung had moved in with Yoongi then and Yoongi knew he wasn’t going to last keeping himself away from Taehyung if the younger man kept wearing those goddamn red shorts all around the house.

Then, after a month of living together, Yoongi just couldn't take it anymore. Taehyung was too good looking for his own good and Yoongi had been very aware of the younger man’s lingering stares on his ass, on his lips, and just him in general. The sexual tension was thick between them and when Taehyung had cuddled up to him on the couch on one of their movie nights, Yoongi let him press open-mouthed kisses to his throat and collarbone. The most they’d gone that night was Yoongi blowing Taehyung and Taehyung rimming him, but it was enough.

The morning after, Yoongi had sat them down at the kitchen table and discussed the parameters of their “relationship.” He didn't want hand-holding or any of that couple-y, ooey gooey stuff. Yoongi just wanted sex and someone to keep him company. Taehyung had agreed and they’d stuck to it.

At least until Yoongi realized that Taehyung meant a lot more to him than a good fuck.

And that made it easier for him to accept it when Taehyung kept saying that he loved him in his sleep.

When Taehyung had tried to leave for Daegu, Yoongi had panicked. His insides were screaming at him that it was his fault, everything was his fault, he’d done something to drive Taehyung away and he was going to lose his one real shot at love if he didn't grow a pair and pursued the younger. So he grew a pair, sat his ass down and opened up the Find My iPhone app on his computer then entered Taehyung’s information. He’d tapped the location into his own phone then ran outside to his car and floored it until he’d hastily parked outside the bus station where he found Taehyung kneeling to give a little girl his scarf. Yoongi let himself catch his breath, assured that Taehyung wasn’t going to immediately leave since the younger man had just kept kneeling instead of standing up to move. Yoongi let himself approach the younger slowly and willed himself to not blow up when he and Taehyung began to talk.

And despite what Taehyung may have thought about Yoongi not wanting him, he was dead wrong because a life without Taehyung was a life that Yoongi didn't even want to consider.

So Taehyung had stayed and they’d began their official relationship and Jimin’s little quips about Taehyung moving back in had diminished to a trickle instead of a river.

But they’re happy and they’re engaged now and Yoongi is still reeling over the fact that he’d accepted Taehyung’s proposal so easily.

Taehyung is happy though and Yoongi’s happy too and that’s all that really matters.

Still, he’s spent every Christmas alone and he’s anxious about this year now that he has a fiancè. He knows it’s unlikely that Taehyung would leave him alone on Christmas of all days, but he had done it that year before when they’d just become roommates and Taehyung’s grandmother was expecting him home so he’d gone and left Yoongi. Alone.

Hoseok had offered to escape from Jimin’s parent’s house and bring chicken and warm beer, but Yoongi didn't want another reason for Jimin to resent him so he’d declined and spent the entirety of Christmas eating some leftover lasagna and a ton fuck of cookies. He’d regretted that combination the next day when he couldn't leave the bathroom for more than an hour. But Taehyung had come back home the day after for New Year’s and Yoongi was sated.

Now they lie in bed, bundled up beneath three blankets because Christmas by the sea is fucking cold and Yoongi needs another body beside him to offer him heat if Taehyung expects the elder to make it until the morning.

“I don't hate Christmas,” Yoongi speaks, his voice hoarse from all the yelling he did when Taehyung fucked him into the mattress not too long ago.

“You hate Christmas, hyung,” Taehyung laughs, his hair a mess around his head, but Yoongi thinks it looks close to a halo really.

“What makes you think that?”

Taehyung shrugs and brings the elder closer until Yoongi’s head is tucked under his chin. “Your grumbling has only gotten louder since December came around, hyung. Every time you see a Christmas tree, you look like it's just insulted your great-grandmother and dishonored your family name all at the same time, which is why, I guess, you wouldn't let me get a real tree to set up in the living room.”

Yoongi scowls and pulls his head back a tiny bit so Taehyung’s able to understand him. “Shut up. Go to sleep.”

“Hyung, you can tell me anything, really.”

“Go to sleep, Tae. It’s late and I have work tomorrow.”

Taehyung grumbles something unintelligible and Yoongi lets it slide because he is too tired to argue with the younger man right now. Yoongi nestles his face into Taehyung’s neck and lets sleep sink its claws into him. He doesn’t realize that Taehyung is asking him a question until he’s on the verge of sleep and hears himself murmur an “alright.”

He should probably worry about what he’s just agreed to, but he’s tired and his brain is mush and Taehyung is warm and sleep is calling to him. So he answers it and falls asleep.

When he wakes up, Taehyung’s side of the bed is cold. Yoongi doesn’t think anything of it since Taehyung is always the first to rise in their home. He’s a morning person, something Yoongi could never force himself to be, no matter how many times Taehyung had tried to wake him up for an early morning run.

Still, Yoongi knows it’s late enough in the morning that he should get out of bed and drink some coffee. So he gets up on his elbows and opens the curtain that covers the window behind their bed and isn’t surprised to see hard-packed snow piled up against the window pane.

They’re snowed in.

Yoongi sighs, grateful that he won’t have to go to work today and lets the curtain close again. He kicks the covers off the bed and sleepily searches for his slippers. December in Busan is dreadful and cold and Yoongi still resents Hoseok for convincing him to move here, but he supposes that meeting Taehyung makes up for it.

He finds his slippers and pushes his cold feet into them and finally stands up from the bed. Yoongi blinks his eyes a few times and when his vision isn’t such a blurry mess anymore, his gaze lands on the open suitcase filled halfway with some of Taehyung’s clothes. Panic begins to bubble up in his chest. Taehyung hadn’t mentioned going away for Christmas and Yoongi isn’t even sure how Taehyung thinks he’ll manage to leave with them being snowed in and all, but that hadn’t stopped the younger man from packing.

Yoongi rummages in his bedside drawer and pulls the case holding his glasses out. He pushes them onto the bridge of his nose and blinks again before staring at the suitcase that is definitely there and not a figment of his imagination.

“Tae,” Yoongi calls out.

There’s a scuffling noise coming from the kitchen, but no answer so Yoongi lets his feet guide him down the hall and towards the noise. He doesn’t react to seeing Taehyung covered in flour and a mixing bowl in front of him that he’s having a hard time with. Taehyung looks up and Yoongi knows why he didn’t answer him. Taehyung has a measuring spoon clamped between his teeth and Yoongi moves forward to take it out of his mouth and wash it in the sink.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asks, keeping his attention on the spoon.

Taehyung grunts and goes back to mixing. “Making pancakes.”

Yoongi tilts his head and hopes that his tone of voice is still conversational. “Then why is your suitcase open in our room?”

“I was packing.”

“I can see that. The question is, where were you going to go without me?”

The spoon is beyond clean at this point so Yoongi has no choice but to turn off the water and dry it, but he doesn’t want to meet Taehyung’s gaze and he doesn’t even want to look in the younger man’s general direction either. So he doesn’t see it when Taehyung sets the mixing bowl aside and takes the few steps towards Yoongi to wrap his arms around the elder’s waist. Yoongi stills, not wanting to move because Taehyung doesn’t usually hold him like this, like he’s glass that could break at any moment and needs to be protected. Taehyung’s breath is hot against his neck and Yoongi’s ass is nestled into Taehyung’s crotch, but he doesn’t dare move.

“Hyung, did you forget what I asked you last night?” Taehyung’s voice is right in his ear and Yoongi’s feels a delicious shiver roll down his spine.

“Last n-night?” Yoongi asks, his voice breathless and he feels a bit light headed.

Taehyung presses against him, more insistent and Yoongi feels his teeth skim his earlobe. “I asked you if you would come with me to my grandma’s for Christmas this year.”

Yoongi swallows and purposely does not gyrate his hips back on Taehyung in the middle of their kitchen where Taehyung is still covered in flour and Yoongi is sporting a semi in his pajamas. “You did?”

Taehyung groans and pushes his own semi into Yoongi’s ass and Yoongi drops the measuring spoon that he held in his hand in the sink. “Yes. You said you’d go, hyung.”

“I did?” Yoongi is most definitely grinding down onto Taehyung’s erection now.

Taehyung turns him around, takes his glasses off and sets them aside before he kisses Yoongi without any sort of preamble at all. Yoongi had been panicking beforehand over Taehyung leaving him alone for the most dreaded of holidays, but all he can really think about is the way that Taehyung’s hand is dipping under the waistband of Yoongi’s pajama bottoms to grasp his erection and start to stroke him. Yoongi groans and wishes that he’d listen to the younger man when he suggested they keep a bottle of lube in the kitchen, but Yoongi had told him countless times that the kitchen wasn’t a place for fornicating. They’ve done a lot of fornicating in the kitchen since then though, so Yoongi really hasn’t listened to his own words, but he can’t help it when Taehyung’s thumb is digging into his slit and drawing more precome from the elder. It’s enough that Taehyung can use it to stroke Yoongi fully and properly without it being slightly uncomfortable anymore.

Yoongi’s hands slide up under Taehyung’s shirt to map the expanse of his chest. Once Yoongi’s hands reach Taehyung’s nipples, he takes one of the pert nubs in between his thumb and forefinger and rolls it a tiny bit just to get a rise out of the younger. Taehyung keens and kisses him again and Yoongi thanks anything and everything out there for letting him meet Taehyung.

Sometime later after Yoongi has blown his load and then blowed Taehyung, they find themselves on the couch. The mess in the mixing bowl looked too similar to semen for either man to actually want to eat pancakes so Taehyung had dug out some blueberry yogurt and they’d ate it off the same spoon. Then Yoongi had rubbed at his eyes and yelped when Taehyung threw him over his shoulder and made his way towards the living room.

There’s a children’s Christmas movie playing on the television and Yoongi’s hands itch to grab the remote and turn it off. Taehyung must notice this because he grabs the remote and shoves it into the couch cushions.

“Hyung, why do you hate Christmas so much?”

Yoongi sighs and closes his eyes. “Drop it, Tae-yah.”

Taehyung merely shakes his head. “It’s been bugging me ever since Jeongguk-ah and Seokjin-hyung started decorating their house and you grumbled about it looking stupid. I know you don’t like most holidays, but you seem to hate Christmas the most and I just want to know why.”

“Taehyung, this is really not the time. Let’s talk about you packing a suitcase even though we’re snowed in instead,” Yoongi spits out, pushing himself off Taehyung’s chest to instead curl around the end of the couch.

“I didn’t check the weather until I had half of my stuff packed. Once I saw all the snow, I decided to just make us some pancakes and then cuddle and watch some movies,” Taehyung chuckles, pushing himself up on his elbows as he does.

“What a great plan that was.”

Taehyung bites his lip and smiles nervously. “It was a great plan, until you let your hatred for Christmas ruin our domestic moment.”

Yoongi scoffs and stands. “I did no such thing.”

He turns and rushes back towards the bedroom where he begins to put Taehyung’s things back in their proper places. He can hear when Taehyung enters the bedroom behind him, but Yoongi doesn’t spare him a glance as he hangs Taehyung’s favorite blue sweater in the closet.

“Hyung, what are you doing?”

Yoongi keeps moving, still not looking at his fiancè. “Putting your shit away.”

“Why?”

Yoongi freezes and feels his knees begin to shake. “Because you’re not going to leave me alone on this stupid holiday. I refuse to spend another fucking Christmas by myself.”

“Oh,” Taehyung breathes and then his arms are around Yoongi again and his nose is nuzzling into Yoongi’s black hair and Yoongi knows that he’s shaking now. “Hyung, I told you before, we were going to go together. You agreed last night. You really think that I’d go home for Christmas without you, the love of my life?”

“You did last year.” Yoongi isn’t even remotely aware of how he’s able to speak at the moment, but somehow he’s managing to do it.

Taehyung turns him around and grips his face, tightly, not letting Yoongi break his gaze. Taehyung’s brown eyes are intense and smoldering and Yoongi is still shaking, but his nerves are beginning to calm.

“Last year, we weren’t together and I did offer to stay, remember? You practically kicked me out the door when I said I wouldn’t go.”

Yoongi sighs and lets himself sag into the younger man. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just being stupid.”

Taehyung presses his nose to Yoongi’s cheek and closes his eyes. “No, you’re not. I get why you hate Christmas so much and I’m sorry if you really thought I’d leave you alone for it again. From now on, we’ll spend every holiday together, not just Christmas.”

“Do you mean it?” Yoongi asks, and he feels small wrapped up in Taehyung’s arms, his face cradled by Taehyung’s big hands and Taehyung’s face pressing into the side of his, but it’s fine because Taehyung is comforting him and that’s all that Yoongi needs to help him calm the dying panic in his chest.

Taehyung kisses his cheek and pulls his face away to look Yoongi in the eye again. “Would I have asked you to marry me if I didn’t mean it?”

Yoongi bites his lip and tangles his hands in Taehyung’s shirt. “I guess not. Though, technically we’re not engaged. I don’t see a ring on my finger. Do you?”

Taehyung laughs and lets go of Yoongi to dig around his suitcase. Yoongi watches him with mild curiosity until Taehyung has drawn a black velvet box out from under one of his hoodies and scoots over to Yoongi on one knee. He smiles up the elder and Yoongi feels his knees start to shake again when Taehyung opens the box to reveal a simple silver band and holds his other hand out towards Yoongi. Yoongi lets Taehyung take his left hand and slip the band onto his ring finger before he meets Taehyung’s gaze and is blinded by the younger man’s large, rectangular grin.

“That looks like a ring to me, hyung,” Taehyung murmurs and Yoongi feels his knees give out and finds himself kneeling in front of Taehyung.

“I love you,” Yoongi whispers, pulling himself closer to Taehyung until he can tuck his head under the younger man’s chin.

Taehyung puts the box down and wraps his arms around Yoongi and kisses the elder’s hair. “I love you more.”

Yoongi laughs a weak, throaty laugh and presses his lips to Taehyung’s throat. “If you love me so much, you should make me some actual food, Tae-yah.”

Taehyung stands and brings the elder up with him. “On it. What would my lovely, handsome, and emotionally constipated fiancè like to eat?”

Yoongi slaps his chest and brings Taehyung’s head down so he can reach his lips. They kiss a long and soft kiss and Yoongi’s stomach is doing strange things with all the feelings that are running through him at that moment, but it’s okay. Taehyung is there and Taehyung is his and they’re happy.

“I want lasagna,” Yoongi mutters once they pull apart. “And cookies.”

Taehyung blinks, surprised, then laughs and presses a swift kiss to Yoongi’s nose. “Lasagna and cookies it is.”

Yoongi lets Taehyung leave to start working in the kitchen and he finishes putting Taehyung’s things away. He feels stupid now for his behavior, he is the older one after all, but he’s been acting like a child and Taehyung has been more mature than him. It’s fine though, he’s fine, and Taehyung says it’s fine when Yoongi goes to the kitchen to apologize for the way he’s been acting ever since December began, so it is fine.

Still, Yoongi can’t help but whine when Taehyung doesn’t let him lick the spoon the younger used to mix the cookie dough with. Taehyung just laughs and kisses Yoongi to appease him.

It works.

#taegi #vsuga #btssmutclub #bangtan bookclub #kwordsmiths #prettyboysnetwork #btsguild #betareadernet #bts #fluff #angst #p:yoongi/taehyung #f:l&c #s:lbiw #m: fic

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ashina-suns-penmanship · 6 years

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Reality vs. Fiction

I haven’t really had time to work on this little project lately, so here’s a little sidenote to chew on. As you know, Chang Ge Xing is a work of historical fiction; Changge, Ashina Sun, Mujin, Qin, Gongsun Heng, and many other characters in the story are simply figments of Xia Da’s imagination. There are, however, many real figures as well. Many of them don’t appear until much later in the story (in comparison to what I’ve covered so far), but I thought it would be fitting to point out reality from fiction and provide a little biographical information about each of the real characters.

Li Shimin, Li Jiancheng, and Li Yuan were all real people; I wrote about them in the Xuanwu Gate Incident. Li Yuan was a Sui Dynasty general who rebelled, the first Tang emperor, and father of Li Shimin and Li Jiancheng. Li Shimin was famous for his military conquests, and really did kill his brother and ascend to the throne, sparing many of his brothers’ advisors to work in his new court while he served as Emperor Taizong. Changge’s mother almost certainly did not exist; the easiest way that I can explain this is that non-Han Chinese ethnic groups typically did not marry into the imperial family. Li Shimin was, however, enamoured of his real beloved wife, Empress Zhangsun, and mourned her greatly after her passing. Li Jiancheng’s real wife is of little historical importance today.

Luo Yi, Li Jing, Fang Xuanling, Du Ruhui, and Yuchi Gong all served the Tang imperial court. Luo Yi was a Sui Dynasty general who helped Li Yuan establish the Tang Dynasty. As a reward for his loyalty, he was bestowed with the royal surname and thusly became Li Yi, Prince of Yan. Luo Yi supported Li Jiancheng and grew fearful when Li Shimin usurped the throne; he raised a rebellion against Li Shimin (by then Emperor Taizong) and was crushed, and the new emperor stripped him of his title and the surname “Li.” Li Jing was a famous Tang general who defeated the Turks. His wife may have been Zhang Chuchen, a folk hero also known as “Hong Fu Nü” (“The Lady with the Red Sleeves”) who may or may not existed, but is regarded as having taken part in the rebellion against Sui. Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui were the most trusted court and military advisors of Emperor Taizong, and he greatly mourned them when they died. Yuchi Gong was a Tang general who is worshipped as a door god in Chinese folk religion today. Shiba was not a real person, as the legendary heroes of the 18 Warriors of Sui-Tang Period that she was a part of were fictitious, but most were based off of actual people who existed at the time. Sun Simiao was a famous Chinese medicine doctor that lived during the Sui and Tang dynasties whose “Hippocratic Oath”, thorough care, and effective remedies immortalized him as the “King of Medicine.”

Xieli/Illig Qaghan (Ashina Duobi), Ashina Jieshe’er/Jiesheshuai, and Princess Yicheng lived in the Eastern Turkic Khaganate. Illig Qaghan was the final qaghan of the Eastern Turkic Khaganate. He was defeated when he tried to take horses from vassal tribes after a freak storm killed much of his livestock; the tribes united, and with help from Tang, successfully rebelled. Tang took advantage of this weakened state to fully conquer the Eastern Turks, absorbing their land into its empire. Illig Qaghan was spared by Emperor Taizong and offered military positions at the frontiers, but he declined them. Ashina Jiesheshuai was Illig Qaghan’s nephew; after the fall of the khaganate, he was spared and created a Tang general, but was killed when he attempted to assassinate the emperor. Princess Yicheng was a Sui princess who was given to the Turks as part of the heqin policy. She married four times to her first husband’s male relatives in accordance to the Turkic custom of levirate marriage, sometimes betraying her husbands in favor of helping Sui. She was killed by Li Jing. Jin Se most likely didn’t exist, but it would not have been surprising for Princess Yicheng to take Han servants with her to the grasslands when she was married off.

Pusa, Yi’nan, and Mohui were all leaders of their tribes. Pusa was the son of Tejian Irkin and Wu Luohun, but was exiled by his father for unknown reasons. When Tejian died, the Uyghur voted for Pusa to become their new leader, and he returned to take up his post. After becoming irkin, Pusa claimed the title of elteber as a gesture of defiance against the Turks. He was later assassinated by his subordinate Tumidu. Yi’nan was the Irkin of Xueyantuo, and was later favored by Emperor Taizong and created Zhenzhu Khan. Both spearheaded the rebellion against the Turks. Mohui was the leader of the Dahe Khitan clan in 627, which also participated in the revolt.

I have a lot to say about names and historical information. Here we go...

1. Some sources say that Li Shimin had his brothers’ entire families killed off, whereas other mention that it was only the sons. So maybe Chang Ge’s existence shouldn’t be completely dismissed as a totally improbable idea; even though she was made up by Xia Da, if only the sons of Li Jiancheng and Li Yuanji were killed, there still might be the slightest possibility of a princess having fled the palace (basically Anastasia the movie, but then again, it came out before the Grand Duchess’s remains were found).

2. I know that I’m using translations that differ from the scanalations (ie. the whole gunpowder versus nitrate compound translation), and I’m trying my best to look into the accuracy of the names. For example, Gongsun Heng is more often referred to as “Governor,” but I’m not so sure, as Shuozhou is a city (despite the translations calling it Shuo Province). Maybe Xia Da is making up a new province, but I think she’s referring to the city in northeastern China. Additionally, the scanalations name Pusa’s father as “Shijian” and I know that sometimes when two words are put together, the pronunciation changes (ie. Yuchi as a surname instead of being pronounced “Weichi”), but I’m fairly certain that his name should be “Tejian.” Also, I think it’s Xieli Khan, as opposed to Jieli Khan. I also don’t know why Xia Da uses the name “Ashina She’er” when his name was Ashina Jieshe’er or Jiesheshuai...maybe she just thought it was too long?

3. I’m having a lot of trouble with finding factual information on pre-dynastic Khitan; English websites are quite scarce and aren’t very helpful, and I read Chinese very slowly. My best guess about Khitan’s role in the story, based on one measly, uncited line from Wikipedia, is that Sun is going to somehow convince his clan to participate in the ongoing revolt, and that his little cousin will take the reins of leadership.

Sorry for all the word vomit, but here’s one last note: I recently finished reading The Secret History of the Mongol Queens by Jack Weatherford, and it was fantastic! I know that CGX isn’t about the Mongols, but the Turks and the Turkic tribes played a big role in the development of steppe politics in the time of Genghis Khan and his descendants. Something really neat that I learned is that bridges-you-cross’s speculation about khan-naming was right! One example is that of Manduhai Khatun naming her future husband Batu Mongke “Dayan Khan”, which means “United Khan” or “Whole Khan”, reflective of their shared goal of reuniting all the Mongols under one rule. According to Weatherford, Dayan Khan’s title had another equally important meaning to the Chinese—“Dayan” in Chinese is pronounced in such a manner that it would imply that Batu Mongke still claimed the throne of the Yuan Dynasty, which ended before his Ming Dynasty contemporaries overthrew the Mongol grasp on the Chinese imperial seat.

#choukakou #chang ge xing #reality vs fiction #an historical analysis of chang ge xing #xia da #manhua #song of the long march

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sweetlysilent · 7 years

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Figment (Ch. Four)

Requested By: Nobody

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader

Warnings: Traumatic Memories, Fear, Swearing, Symptoms of Anxiety, Mention of Pennywise, etc.

Summary:

When is a door not a door? Most people tend to always overthink the question, over processing what the answer could be, when in reality it’s right in front of your face. When it’s ajar. This is a riddle that is constantly in the back of your mind.

Just like your greatest fear, it lurks between the space of the door, showing it’s form like a shadow, always creeping behind you. But you convince yourself it’s just a figment of your imagination, that it’s all in your head, that you’re just seeing things. But, what happens when the Loser’s Club end up seeing it too?

A/N: So, I don’t know how many people enjoy this lil blurb mini series but I really like it so I’m going to continue writing it bc it makes me happy. If you like it too then by all means go ahead and read it and if you don’t then don’t read it :)) I post other content too.

PSA: Since I’m still having issues with saving/editing text posts I’m unable to update my Masterlist, therefore, if you want to keep up with my more recent writings I will be tagging my fics with ’#masterlist’ so if you want to find them you’ll be able to. If you’re on mobile you can go up to the little search icon in the right hand corner and simply search ‘masterlist’ and my fics (and my masterlist) will show up!

This isn’t exactly based off the movie or the book, I’m just kind of free handing it and I might use bits and pieces from the movie, but besides that I’m basically just flowing with it. Another thing, feel free to send a comment in my ask or below on what you thought of this part! I’d love to see everyone’s reactions, it helps keep me motivated.

Also, comment below or send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged!

night ter·rors

feelings of great fear experienced on suddenly waking in the night.

“Y/N are you alright? Honey wake up, you’re okay.” Your mother rushed over to you, grabbing ahold of your shoulders as you shook violently, small screams escaping your lips every few seconds, sweat dripping down your forehead.

You were having a night terror, something you hadn’t experienced since you were ten years old, since the last time the clown had tried to take you.

In your terror Pennywise was chasing you, his maniac laugh echoing throughout your ears as you ran in a state of panic, your breathing chaotic as you tried to get away from him.

You were running as fast as you could, your lungs were burning from breathing so hard, but you didn’t care, you just wanted to make it out alive.

You made a sharp turn around the corner, only to come face to face with Richie, except this wasn’t really him.

“Richie.” You breathed out, your eyes widening as he gave you a crooked smile, sending chills down your spine.

“Why are you running from us Y/N?” Richie questioned, turning his head to the side slightly as he eyed you intently.

“Stop playing these bullshit games with me! I know you’re not him! Get OUT of my head!” You screamed, your hands gripping your hair harshly as you watched Richie’s form disappear and Pennywise’s emerge from the ground.

“You’ll float too.”

And then you woke up.

“Y/N! Oh my god are you alright? Speak to me sweetie, what’s wrong?” Your mother gaped at you in worry, watching as you breathed heavily, your eyes searching your room frantically before landing on her.

“I-I..” You stammered, unable to form words, not after what you had just experienced, there was no way she’d ever understand what you were going through.

“It’s alright, just take a deep breath, relax, you’re okay.” Your mother cooed, her arms wrapped around your small figure as you sat on your bed, your chest heaving.

It was all getting worse, so bad to the point sleeping pills weren’t even working.

After about an hour of sitting and attempting to talk to your mother about what had happened, she hesitantly left, unwillingly of course, but you told her you wanted to try and go back to sleep, which was a straight up lie.

The second the door to your room closed, you put on some socks, along with your shoes, a jacket, and a beanie to keep your ears warm.

You quietly climbed out your window, before jumping down to the ground, grabbing your bike along the way before peddling down the street.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to sneak out and do this, but your gut told you to go to him, so you did.

You knew it was late, around three in the morning, you weren’t sure if he’d even be awake at this hour, but you didn’t care.

You rode up to his house, resting your bike against the fence before wandering around to find his window, which you were glad was ground level.

You hesitantly knocked on his window, looking around to make sure nobody saw you, while waiting to see if he would notice you.

You didn’t hear any movement so you knocked again, this time a bit harder, before hearing footsteps approach the window.

The second he saw you, confusion spread across his face, before opening the window.

“Y/N, what the hell? What are you doing here? It’s three in the morning.” Richie complained, rubbing his eyes tiredly, making his glasses slip down his nose slightly.

“I-I.. I need to talk to you.” You stammered, giving him pleading eyes as he let out a tired sigh, before opening the window a bit more and stepping aside to let you in.

You carefully climbed into his room, doing your best to not knock anything over as you rebalanced yourself, shutting his window quietly.

“This better be important, this face needs its beauty sleep.” Richie half joked, giving a sleepy smile, making you shake your head at him.

“It is, just let me talk, lord.” You muttered, walking over to sit on his bed, surprising Richie slightly to see you have that much confidence.

“Wait, hold up, how are you awake? I thought you were on sleeping pills or some shit like that.” Richie questioned, now remembering the whole classroom incident.

“I am, but apparently I can wake up even on meds.” You grumbled, rubbing your forehead while letting out a sigh.

Richie noticed your posture deflate slightly, making his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, before walking over and sitting down next to you.

“What happened Y/N? You wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t important.” Richie spoke gently, placing his hand on your knee softly to stop it from moving anxiously.

You turned to face him, your eyes flickering back and forth from his, before turning your face down to your hands.

“I-I had a night terror.. I haven’t had one of those since I was ten. Ten Richie.” You whispered, your voice wavering slightly as you recalled the memory.

“I-I was being chased by the clown..” You continued, the back of your neck starting to sweat once again.

“The same clown you told us about?” Richie questioned, as you nodded your head, unable to look him in the eyes.

“I was running from him, I was running so hard Richie that I couldn’t breathe, and then I remember I ran around the corner..” You whispered, your breathing becoming a bit heavier, making Richie start to worry.

“W-What happened? What was around the corner?” Richie questioned hesitantly, his eyes widening slightly when you looked up at him, your eyes watery.

“I-I saw you.” You whispered, your lip quivering slightly as he stared at you in disbelief.

“W-What? H-How.. How is that even possible?” Richie stammered, his hand leaving your knee as he got up to pace around his room.

“It wasn’t really you though.. It was him. The clown. He pretended to be you to get to me, but I knew it wasn’t you, so I called him out on it and then he became his true self.” You explained, watching as Richie paced back and forth in front of you.

“And then before I woke up, I heard him say ‘You’ll float too.’” You mimicked how he said it, making Richie stop pacing and face you, his mouth slightly open.

“That’s what Bill said his brother said to him..” Richie whispered, creating goosebumps on your arms.

“Richie.. What if I’m next? What if I go missing?” You whimpered, a tear slipping down your cheek as Richie shook his head, engulfing you in his arms.

“There’s no way in hell I’ll let that happen, alright?” Richie spoke into your hair as he held you in his arms tightly.

“I don’t think you have a choice.. It’s my turn to be taken..” You whispered quietly, making him take a step back to look at you.

“What are you talking about Y/N? I know it’s late and we’re both tired but now you’re just making shit up.” Richie frowned at you, as you shook your head.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve experienced the clown, before I moved.. Two of my friends went missing.. So, of course we went looking for them, and that’s when we saw the clown, he tried taking us too.. But we defeated him. We thought he was dead.” You explained quietly, your eyes focused on the ground as you replayed the moments in your head.

“Are your friends..” Richie questioned quietly, his voice disappearing before he could finish as he saw you look up at him through your lashes.

You shook your head no, making him visibly swallow as you let out a sigh.

“Is that why you moved here? To get away?” Richie questioned, as you nodded slowly, the feeling of shame setting in.

Richie nodded slowly, trying to process everything you had just told him, at first he didn’t want to believe you, he wanted to believe you were just crazy, but the more you spoke about it, the realer it got.

“I believe you.” He finally spoke up after a few minutes of being completely quiet, surprising you.

“You do?” You looked at him with hopeful eyes, watching as he sighed and walked back over to sit next to you.

“Yeah, Y/N, I do, because as much as I tried to forget it, I saw the red balloon in my dream, and next thing I know you’re here at my window.” Richie confessed, making your eyes widen.

“We need to tell the others. If they’ve seen the balloon too, then..” You looked at him worriedly, as he placed his hand on yours.

“Then they might be taken too.”

Tags: @the-crime-fighting-spider @f-b-a-w-t-f-t-2 @mishamgos @winter-fire-and-january-embers @hey-its-bean @theotherschuyler @o-starshine @socialanxietyblogger

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jilyyall · 4 years

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Animal Magnetism - Ch 7.

Edward Cullen was not a normal teenager; of that I was certain. But knowing that did nothing to stop the pull I felt towards him. And if what he was saying was any indication, he felt some strange pull towards me, too. It was like we were magnets struggling against hope to stay apart. I only wondered what would happen when we inevitably collided.

Chapter 7. Out of the Dark. Fanfiction.net / AO3 Intro/1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/

If anyone would have asked me two months ago if I would ever do something more difficult than leave all of my friends, my entire life in Phoenix, and move to small, rainy, dreary Forks, Washington, I would have thought they were insane. But here I was, sitting in a dark movie theatre between my average friends and a boy who I was certain was not human, trying to pretend I was paying attention to the movie Mike had wanted to watch.

It didn't help matters any that Mike had convinced everyone to see The Lost Boys, an old vampire movie the theatre was showing as part of a pre-Halloween blast from the past. Edward had stood near me, a respectable few feet between us, in amused silence during the debate, and followed us into the theatre without comment.

I wasn't afraid to be sitting next to him – and wasn't that insane? I was pretty sure he was a vampire and I wasn't afraid of him at all. I just wanted nothing more than to be able to talk to him, to tell him my theory, ask him my questions, and demand he tell me the truth. If we were going to be friends, he owed me that much. And if he wasn't going to be my friend, was just going to disappear and pretend nothing ever happened? Well, he still owed me.

That, and sitting next to him in the dark, surrounded by couples and people who would soon become couples … I wanted to touch him. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to feel his cold skin against mine like I had when he'd brushed my hair out of my face last week and when he'd saved my life when Tyler's van seemed bent on ending it. My hands were clenched into fists so tight by my thighs that I feared my nails may cut into my flesh any minute, but that would probably not be a good thing if my theory was correct, so I slowly relaxed my hands.

Edward was in the aisle seat as no one had seemed particularly eager to sit next to him but me. I could see out of the corner of my eye that he looked just as tense as me. He was leaning heavily against the armrest farther away from me, his arms crossed against his chest so tightly I could see the bands of lean muscles straining under the flesh. His gaze was slanted in my direction as well so that when our eyes met, he flashed me a tense smile that I reciprocated as best I could.

It was that magnetism all over again. It was all I could do to keep my distance. I just wanted to be closer to him. I wondered briefly if this was one of the theatres with the seats that had armrests you could raise for optimal cuddling on date nights. The thought made me flush, and I looked away from him when his gaze flickered to my warm cheeks as if he sensed my reaction. He probably did.

I caught Mike's eye. He was sitting toward the middle of the row, next to Jessica. Thankfully, she hadn't yet noticed that he wasn't paying attention to the movie he had chosen, or to her. She, too, was sneaking curious glances my way. I rolled my eyes and leaned in close to Angela, who was sitting next to me.

"I have to get out of here," I whispered just as David tricked Michael into drinking out of a bottle full of vampire blood.

"Okay," she whispered back, a suspicious smile playing on her lips.

I stood up and moved past Edward, who sat up straight, facing the screen, arms still banded across his chest. His eyes were on me, though.

"Walk with me," I murmured. I didn't lean in so he could hear me like I would have for any of my other friends; I knew he had ridiculously good hearing even if he wasn't a vampire.

I walked away before he moved to follow. I was the only reason he was here; I knew he would come with me just as certainly as I knew that most of the people I had come here with were watching us leave together, jumping to their own conclusions about what we were doing.

Huffing out a shaky breath, I hurried out of the theatre, to the lobby, and then out into the fresh air. I didn't turn to look at him until I had made it halfway down the block. He had pulled his jacket back on and was, as predicted, right behind me, a wary look in his eyes.

Night had truly fallen by now, and the temperature had dropped several degrees since we'd gone into the theatre. The wind ripped through my thin white sweater, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Afraid of vampires, Bella?" he asked with a mischievous smile.

I choked on a laugh and had to turn around when he froze, worry flashing to life behind his eyes. Worry over my sanity? Worry that he had said far too much already? Both valid concerns. I walked to the end of the block and sat on a bench under a dim streetlight.

"I thought you wanted to walk," Edward said, stopping several feet away.

I turned my head to look up at him. He looked almost like a figment of my imagination; he was beautiful under the horrible school fluorescents, but here in the night with me under the moon and the hazy streetlight, he was ethereal. His skin seemed to glow and his teeth gleamed impossibly bright as he spoke.

"We walked to the corner, didn't we?" I said, gesturing to the theatre down the block. He just stood there apart from me until I sighed. "Will you please sit down, Edward?"

He did, but he sat as far away from me as he could on the narrow bench. There were only maybe eight inches between us, but it may as well have been a mile. I itched to close the gap between us, but I was pretty sure he would be uncomfortable if I did.

Edward didn't say anything, and I knew it was going to be on me to start the conversation. I weighed my options carefully before I spoke, trying to decide on the best way to get into it.

"Did you have a good time with your family this weekend?" I finally said, deciding it was a safe start.

He looked at me and smiled, dipping his head. "Yes, Bella. It was a very fulfilling trip. Thank you for asking."

"That's good," I said, and I felt my pulse skitter as I worked my way closer to what I really want to talk about. "What are you doing here, Edward?"

"You invited me," he said.

"Not really," I said without thinking, and then rushed to explain myself, not having meant to be rude. "I mean, I'm glad you came! I was really happy to see you, but I didn't invite you. I was trying to get under your skin with the La Push comment because I was annoyed with you and you know that. So, please, what are you really doing here?"

"I wanted to know how your morning went, and it seemed like torture to have wait until tomorrow." His honesty surprised me; I was used to him evading all of my questions by now, and I just stared at him for a few seconds. "Well? Did you get your answers?"

"Just one," I whispered, watching his face carefully. He looked cautious, and curious on top of it. "What does the name Ephraim Black mean to you?"

The only change in his expression was the barest upward tic of his eyebrow. Was he surprised to hear a name he recognized from so long ago?

"And the term cold ones," I continued when he didn't speak.

"Where did you hear that name? And that term?" he said when he finally did speak.

"I flirted with a fifteen year-old Quileute boy," I said in a rush, surprising a real, bold laugh out of him. "It was easier than I thought it would be," I admitted with an embarrassed smile.

"Of course it was," Edward said once he'd stopped laughing. "You don't realize the effect you have on people."

"Do I have an effect on you?" I asked.

"You have no idea," he said, suddenly serious. Then, on a sigh, "The Quileutes have a long memory."

"You're not going to deny it?" I asked, disbelief warring with utter relief in my chest. "You're just… just like that… you're just going to admit it."

"What would be the point in denying it? You won't give this up," Edward pointed out. "And, besides, I'd already decided to tell you the truth anyway. I thought it would be safer for all involved if you weren't asking anyone and everyone probing questions about my family. I expected you to reach a dead end in La Push, honestly. Part of our agreement was that they wouldn't speak our secret if we did as they asked."

"He's just a kid," I said quickly, suddenly worried for Jacob's safety. I hadn't told Edward who I talked to today, but he had heard me mention a family friend to Mike and Jessica on Thursday; it wouldn't be all that difficult for him to figure it out. "He doesn't even believe the stories. He was joking about it all afterward."

"I'm not upset," Edward assured me, waving away my concern. "As long as he doesn't make a habit of telling every pretty girl who flirts with him."

"Don't worry," I said, blushing at the compliment. "I'm starting to believe you when you say that no one else is quite as… interested… in you as I am."

"Yes, well it's about time you start listening to me," he said, eyes narrowing when I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered again. "You didn't bring a thicker jacket?"

"I did, but it's in Mike's car."

"Here," he said, taking off his supple tan leather jacket.

"Won't you be cold?" I asked as he draped it over my shoulders.

"We don't really experience temperature extremes," he said softly, watching closely for my reaction, but I wasn't that surprised. His hands were so cold the few times he'd touched me.

"Jackets are merely fashion statements to you?" I said, sliding my arms into the sleeves and pulling the material tighter around me. The inside of the jacket felt cold and unworn, and not at all as if a boy had just been wearing it for hours. It smelled incredible. I only just managed to resist taking a nice long whiff of it, of him.

He smiled tentatively. "That, and it helps us fit in better if we dress to match everyone else."

"I hate to tell you this, Edward," I said slowly, " but I don't think many guys in Forks are wearing Belstaff jackets."

I sent him a shy, teasing smile, and he laughed, nodding in acknowledgement. "I suppose that would be where the fashion statement comes in to play."

A car drove past us just then, the headlights washing over us and illuminating us for a moment.

"Your eyes…" I said, unable to look away now that I had noticed. They were the lightest I had ever seen them. "I have a theory about your eyes."

"Another theory, Bella? I've already confirmed the most important one. You can just ask your questions. I'll answer them," he promised. "I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"I enjoy theorizing," I told him with a small shrug and ducked my head to hide my blush at the intensity of his gaze. "You can confirm or deny."

He smiled and shook his head. "What's your theory?"

"I think… that your eye color depends on how … hungry you are. Or is it thirsty?" I shook my head, losing some confidence with the confusion.

"Whichever you prefer," he said gently. "It doesn't make a difference to me."

"Okay, let's just call it hungry, then," I said, relieved that he didn't seem to take pleasure in my momentary struggle.

"As you like," he allowed with a deep bow of his head.

"So, my theory is that the longer it's been since you've … eaten?" I rolled my eyes, annoyed with myself, and hurried on, "…the darker your eyes and the circles beneath them, and the grumpier you are. But the more recently you've eaten, the lighter they are, and the more likely you are to joke around with me."

Edward looked pleasantly surprised, shaking his head at me. "Bella, I'm afraid I owe you another apology." He smiled when I tilted my head towards him, confused. "I've called you unobservant several times now, and here I come to find you're actually incredibly perceptive."

I smiled at him and continued on, bolstered. "And you only hunt animals? That's what Ja… the boy said."

"Yes, we… resist our nature." At my inquisitive look, he explained. "We aren't like most of our kind. It's in our nature to hunt humans; most would never even think of living the way we do."

"Is that what you were doing?" I asked; part of me felt like his openness wasn't going to last, so I wanted to make sure I got as many answers as I could before he inevitably grew closed off again. I really hoped I was wrong and he would remain an open book to me. "This weekend, with your family. You said you were camping in the nice weather, but were you hunting? I've never seen your eyes so light. You must have eaten recently."

He sent me a crooked smile, sighing again. "Yes, we were hunting. I came here straight after we finished."

"Edward, that day… my first day at school… in the cafeteria," I said slowly, watching him carefully. His eyes tightened at the memory. "Your eyes were black. I'd never seen anything darker in my life. You must have been starving."

"Ah, yes, it had been too long since I had last hunted, but that… was something else altogether," he said, something not unlike a grimace creeping onto his face.

"I thought you were going to kill me," I admitted, biting my lip and twisting my fingers together, anxious again at the mere memory. "If Emmett weren't holding you in place, I was sure…"

"I very nearly did," he whispered, leaning towards me so that I could see the sincerity on his face. "Bella, you have to understand something about me. I have been… what I am… living the way we do… longer than any in my family, save Carlisle… and I have never wanted a human's blood as desperately as I needed yours. Not even when I was new to this second life, when the blood calls the loudest."

"So, what? I smell… really good?" I said, trying to make a joke out of something that was clearly a very serious matter.

"Well, yes," he admitted. "But that's trivializing it in the extreme. Humans in general smell good to us. Your blood… it's a siren's call to me. I have never known temptation like it in my many years."

"Is it like that for your whole family?" I asked, chilled by the idea of all seven of them wanting me dead. "Do I tempt them all?"

"You do smell better than the average human to them. But in the way it is for me? No," he said slowly. "It's just me. It's been known to happen. Occasionally, one of our kind will come across a human whose blood is more alluring than any other's. I've never experienced it before, myself."

I frowned. "It must be very hard on you, to be near me."

Edward laughed, shaking his head at me in disbelief. "Bella, I tell you that I want nothing more than to kill you and feast on your blood, and your concern is for me?"

"Well, clearly you want something more, or we wouldn't be here right now," I said with more confidence than I felt.

"Perhaps you're right," he murmured.

"So, is it?" I asked when he went silent, looking thoughtful.

"What?"

"It is very difficult? For you to be here with me," I said.

"It's like having a white-hot iron rammed down my throat," he said, and I heard the sincerity in his voice.

"Should I leave?" I asked him, but he was the one who came here to see me, who followed me out of the theatre. If it was too difficult, too painful, for him to be around me, then he wouldn't be here, would he?

"If you like, but I won't ever hurt you, Bella," he assured me.

I believed him.

"That wasn't my concern," I told him. "I just don't want you to be in pain."

"It's bearable," he said softly, and reached out and stroked the side of my face with his hand, let it come to a rest feather-light on my throat at the base of my neck. He was so cold, but it wasn't at all unpleasant. My pulse quickened and I wondered if he could feel the way it thrummed beneath his hand. I wondered if he could hear it. I wondered if it made the scent that much stronger. "Easier and more bearable every day."

"It is easier after you've just eaten?" I whispered.

"Yes, it is. Very much so," he said, and then he laughed again. I stared, mesmerized by the gleam of his teeth in the night. "You're so unpredictable, Bella."

"I have a theory about that, too," I said. But before we got into that… "How is that much pain bearable? How can you willingly put yourself through it?"

"Bella… I feel… very strongly… about you." A thrill ran through me at his careful words. "And I find the reward to be worth the torment."

"What's the reward?" I wondered aloud.

"A glimpse into your mind," he told me with a tortured smile. "You had another theory?"

"Yes. Speaking of minds, actually," I said haltingly. He smiled at me, and I knew that he suspected what was coming, and I knew that I was right. "You can read minds."

"That is neither a theory nor a question," he said. "But I'll allow it. Yes. What did I do that gave it away?"

I shrugged. "Um. A lot of little things, actually. You seemed to know what Mike was doing before he actually did it. That day he asked me to ask him to the dance. Actually, that whole day. You waited at the door for Eric to ask me because you knew he was going to and you wanted to see my reaction. And then the whole shitstorm with Tyler… which, by the way, you owe me big time for that. Did you know he's now telling everyone that he's taking me to prom? Me! At prom! With him! And it's all your fault."

"I was simply giving the boy his chance," Edward said, but his mouth was quirked up at the corners and I strongly suspected he wanted to laugh. When I continued to glare at him, he smiled indulgently. "Would you like me to make it up to you? I could frame him for cheating on a test and have him banned from prom."

He was obviously joking, so I didn't allow myself more than a moment of horror at the thought of him potentially ruining Tyler's future. "I was thinking of totaling his car tomorrow, myself. Hey, you could probably do that with your bare hands and my poor, innocent truck wouldn't have to suffer another needless cosmetic scratch."

"I could," he said with a slow smile. "But it would be very painful for me."

"Painful?" He'd been so unaffected by the whole accident that I was under the impression he couldn't really get hurt.

"Yes, Bella," he said seriously. "I love cars. It would cause me great pain to have to hurt his car."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "Of course you love cars. That shouldn't surprise me."

He smiled at me again – I swore, he was smiling more during this one conversation than he had since I'd met him. I wondered if he was enjoying the freedom of his own honesty. I certainly was.

"Thank you," I said.

"Whatever for?" he said, surprise as clear in his voice as it was on his face.

"For not denying it. For not trying to make me feel crazy," I said. I had been prepared for him to avoid my questions like he usually did. The fact that he was speaking so freely with me filled me with a strong sense of relief.

Edward frowned and slowly pulled his hand from my throat. That wary look worked its way back into his expression. "I don't have the will to deny you anymore."

"Works out nicely for me," I said, trying for a lofty tone, but the thrill his words sent through me may have added some weight to my words.

"Edward, can you read my mind?" I didn't think he could – he was always so frustrated and remarked on how unpredictable I was – but the mere possibility filled me with dread when I realized that my thoughts tonight had been very damning so far. I was at least trying to play it cool tonight, and if he could read my thoughts, they would certainly have given me away.

"No," he said. "Though not for lack of trying, believe me."

"I do." I laughed, relieved. "Sometimes, when you look at me, I can just see you trying to get inside my head."

"I'm sorry about that, Bella," he said with another sardonic smile. "It's just very frustrating to me sometimes that the one person I can't read is the most interesting human I've ever come across."

"The one person?" I asked. I blushed at the most interesting human comment, and his gaze fell on my cheeks again. I hurried on. "I'm the only person whose mind you can't read?"

"Yes." He met my eyes again. "You have no idea how vexing it was when we first met. The mystery has gotten more tolerable. Marginally."

"Well, I'm sorry you find it so frustrating," I said, and it was time for some honesty of my own, "but it's a huge relief to me that you can't read my mind."

He smiled at me. "I understand what you mean."

"Can I…." I stopped mid-thought, embarrassed. Just because he was being so open with me tonight didn't mean I could just say anything and everything that came to mind.

"Can you what?" he asked immediately and I realized my sudden silence was probably as frustrating to him as all of his non-answers had been to me in our past conversations. More, even, because he was used to knowing what everyone was thinking at all times.

"Can I move closer to you?" I finished, biting my lip. His gaze darted to my cheeks again and I didn't need the sudden, intense flash of heat to know that I had flushed scarlet. "Or would that be… a bad idea?"

"It's always a bad idea for you to be anywhere near me, Bella," Edward said solemnly. "But I meant what I said. I won't ever hurt you. You can do as you wish."

I closed the gap between us then, practically pressed myself up against his side. Peering up at him uncertainly, I asked in a very small voice, "Is this okay?"

"Yes, Bella. You're safe with me, and from me."

I wasn't worried that he would want me in the way a vampire wanted a human; I was afraid that he wouldn't want me the way a boy might want a girl, but I wasn't going to tell him that. He lifted his arm and wrapped it around me, and pulled me closer to his chest. The move surprised me so much that I forgot to breathe for a moment. When I did, it was an utter pleasure. He smelled so good. Like cinnamon, honey, and lilac.

"I want to do something now," he said very quietly. "Do you trust me?"

He was looking at me, his eyes impossibly soft mere inches from mine. He didn't move another muscle until I nodded dumbly. Then he dipped his head so that his nose was running along my jawline, and I both felt and heard him take a deep, slow breath. My breath caught in my throat and my mind went fuzzy; I felt like my body was giving out on me. I bit my lip, terrified that I would whimper, and clutched my hands together tightly in my lap.

"Are you afraid? Your heart is racing," he murmured, his lips so close to my throat that I could feel the whisper of movement on my flesh. I swallowed thickly.

"No," I breathed. "It's not fear."

"Ah," he said, lifting his head so that we were again staring into each other's eyes. I saw the understanding there, but I wasn't ashamed. "This is wrong."

"I don't care," I said, and leaned in.

ffn / AO3

#twilight fanfiction #twilight fanfic #edward x bella #bella x edward #edward cullen #bella swan

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