#i mean this sounds like a woman who's so insecure in her marriage she's picking cat fights | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bonnyskies · 4 years

Text

royal heartache ⇢ pjm

there was no place for a simple commoner like you in jimin’s heart. now when someone who had royal blood and stunning beauty stood right before him.

part one of “royalty bundle”

pairing — prince!jimin x physician!malereader, ft. princesss!femaleoc, king!seokjin

genres — angst, minor fluff, sexual themes, royalty!au

warnings — major angst, swearing, sexual themes, infidelity, unhealthy relationship, mentions of death, reader is a sweet soul and jimin is a dick, seokjin is a precious man who is whipped for somebody he barely knows, jimin is a manipulative person, reader is an insecure sad boy

word count — 6.7k

masterlist

“Have you heard the news? Prince Jimin is arranged to marry Princess A-Yeong of the Choi Family.” “Really, when?” “By next week.”

You could literally feel your heart breaking inside your chest while the two servants that stood fairly close behind you whispered softly to each other. They were trying to be quiet, but failed miserably. Gossiping was frowned upon in the palace and if anyone was caught doing it, they were punished.

Despite their words making you ache internally, you continued your duties, plucking the grown medicinal herbs out their plots of soil and placing them into the straw basket beside you.

“I heard she is one of the most beautiful women in the country,” the whispering between the two servants continued, “no wonder the King picked her for the prince. With her and prince’s looks, they’ll definitely make a remarkable heir for the kingdom.” The other servant nodded her head in agreement, both of them too engrossed in their conversation to notice you kneeled down in front of them, fingers gripping the herb and tightly crumbling the green leaves.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps was heard, tearing you out of your thoughts and forcing you back up onto your feet, quickly wiping the dirt stains on your cloths with your bare hands before turning around to face the approaching figure. Your heart stopped inside your chest when seeing who the person was. Park Jimin, the twenty-five year old prince and only heir of the Park Kingdom stood right in front of you, and his eyes were only focused on you. You were too distracted by his intent gaze to even bow—which people of your class is suppose to do in a royal’s presence. “Greetings, your Highness,” the two servants spoke at the same time and bowed when seeing the young prince.

“Leave,” was the only thing he said, his stern voice making both you and the two servants jump slightly. It was rare—and you mean really rare for the prince to ever use that kind of tone. “And if I ever hear you two gossiping again I won’t hesitate to throw the both of you into the dungeon, do you understand?” Their eyes widened at the threat and quickly nodded their heads. “The only reason I’m letting you two off with a warning is because I have more important matters to attend to. Now, leave.”

The two servants practically sprinted away, leaving just you and Jimin alone in the gardens. You were practically shaking at your feet, tearing your gaze away from him and staring down at the ground. As he slowly approached you, you could feel your heart stammering inside when he cupped your chin and tilted your head up to meet his eyes. “I’m guessing from the way you’ve been avoiding all day today, you heard about the news—plus those two servants weren’t exactly being subtle.” And when you chose to be silent he continued, “you know that the princess means nothing to me, right? I love you, and only you. This doesn’t change anything—”

“It changes everything, Jimin,” you cut him off, pushing his hands away and grabbing the basket of medicinal herbs from the ground. “You’re getting married, you’ll have a wife—someone you have to bed with and produce an heir,” you could feel yourself wince at the thought of Jimin being with someone else, being intimate with someone else that wasn’t you.

The relationship you have with Jimin has been going on for about two years, and everything has been perfect—at least until the news about him and the princess getting married began to spread around the palace. Whenever you tried to bring it up to Jimin he’d just say that it was just a rumor. But now, after hearing other people talking about it—including the King and Queen earlier today, you know it’s true.

“I’m telling you, ____, that this marriage means nothing to me—that girl means nothing to me.” Jimin took you back into his arms, and this time you didn’t fight him, instead you placed your head on his chest. “The only person that I love and will only love is you, you hear me?”

“Promise,” you tilted your head up to see him, holding your hand up to show your pinky finger. That caused Jimin to chuckle before hooking his own pinky finger around yours and saying, “promise.”

You were an idiot to believe him.

The moment Princess Choi A-Yeong stepped inside the palace your heart sunk into your chest.

Jimin’s eyes never left hers as she slowly made her way down the decorative carpet to the three thrones where he and his parents currently sat. You could see his gaze practically burning into her and that was making you feel uneasy. The rumors about her being the most beautiful woman is no doubt true—you can see that now and that only made you feel even more insecure and paranoid. She was dressed in gorgeous pink and white royal robes, decorated with expensive gold jewelry. Her long, black hair that looked like it would go down all the way down to her lower back was held up with a stunning diamond pin. It almost looked like she was wearing the entire palace’s wealth on her, which only made you more self-conscious. After seeing her, there was no way Jimin would choose someone like you, a physician instead of princess—a beautiful princess.

“Greetings, your Highnesses,” the princess bowed, bending her body forward and you swear you could see Jimin attempting to peak at her exposed cleavage. You don’t blame him, like why wouldn’t he? Her body was literally perfection. Her body was slim, yet had curves that would make any man drool. “Thank you for welcoming me into your beautiful home.”

The Queen didn’t hesitate before jumping up from her throne and approaching the young girl and helping her up with a wide smile on her face. “Oh my dear A-Yeong, you don’t have to greet us so formally. You’re family.” That only made the crack in your heart spread even more. You have been serving the Park Family ever since you were a child—you even played with Jimin in the early years, and yet you were still treated like absolute garbage and forced to greet them formally every time. And if you didn’t, you’d get punished.

“I’m sure you know why you’ve been summoned,” the King—Jimin’s father spoke up, earning a nod from the princess. “We’re all here to discuss the proposal of you marrying my son—” “—I accept,” the princess quickly shouts out, surprising just about everyone in the throne room. The reaction though made the King chuckle and smile widely at the young woman. “That’s great! What about you, my boy? Do you agree with the marriage?”

Wait, your mind suddenly stopped, so their arranged marriage hasn’t even been finalized yet?

You turned towards Jimin, expecting him to decline the agreement. But once again you were let down, your heart finally shattering into millions of pieces when hearing his answer, “I accept.” You didn’t realize you were nearly crying until the Queen called out for you, catching your attention and making you quickly wipe the tears before facing her. “Yes, your Highness?”

“____, would you take A-Yeong to her chamber.” You opened your mouth to answer, not knowing what to say exactly. “Umm, your Highness I’m no longer a servant—I’m a physician now, for a year—” “Then what are you doing here then and not at your part of the palace?” She then asks, her tone instantly changing and making you jump slightly at the harshness of her voice.

You quickly bowed your head apologetically. “Forgive me, your Highness, I’ll take my leave.” You turned around and started to leave. If you were being honest the reason, you were here was because you wanted to see the princess yourself—which wasn’t the best idea for your heart. And just as you were about to step out of the throne room, you suddenly heard Jimin’s voice again and his next words only brought more pain to your chest. “I’ll show her to her room, mother.”

Swallowing the lump in the back of your throat, you started making your way back to your section of palace like the Queen requested you to do so—which happened to be in the far end where no one goes to except for treatment for injuries or illness. You never had any visitors that wasn’t there for medicinal purposes except for Jimin, who would sneak into your chambers almost every night to sleep with you—and you couldn’t help but feel like those nights were slowly coming to end now that the princess and his future wife was here.

When arriving to your chambers, you were shocked to find somebody sitting on the edge of your bed—and this wasn’t just anybody. Your eyes widened when seeing the former Queen of the Park Kingdom, Jimin’s grandmother right in front of you. “Your Highness,” you were about to bow your head but was stopped midway when she reached over and placed her hands on your arms. “Oh honey, you know you don’t have to greet me so formally.”

Raising your head back up, you asked, “if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here? I’m sure you have way more urgent things to do other than waiting in my chambers for me.” You watched as she then took you into her arms and gently rubbed her hands up and down your back soothingly. “I heard about the marriage,” was all she said at first before feeling the tears build up in your eyes again, “how are you doing, honey?”

Jimin’s grandmother always treated you nicely. Out of everyone in the palace she was the only one who has ever made you feel welcomed and loved—excluding Jimin. She was the family you always wanted but never could have. She was also the only one who knows about your relations with her grandson and chose to stay silent, saying how your happiness was important than some royal tradition.

You leaned yourself into her and whispered to her, “he’s going to marry her...,” a single tear escaping and sliding down your cheeks, “he’s going to have a family with her and leave me—”

“Oh stop it,” she quickly cut you off, running her hand comfortingly through your hair. “Jimin loves you so much, ____, he looks at you like you are his whole world.” She tries to reassure you, but when seeing the downed expression on your face she then asks, “what’s wrong sweetie?”

And your next words made her heart break. “She’s now his whole world.”

Jimin’s grandmother spent the rest of the day comforting you, making you sure you were eating and resting instead of stressing over everything that is happening right now. And once she knew you were asleep, that’s when she decided to leave.

But you didn’t stay asleep for long. Only a few hours passed until you found yourself waking up, instantly noticing the dark sky and bright moon shining through your chamber’s windows. The next thing you noticed was the empty spot beside you on your bed—which is where Jimin would usually be sleeping. Every night, every since you two started your relationship he would sneak over to your chambers to sleep with you. It has been happening for over seven hundred and thirty days without any change but now, he wasn’t here—the same night the princess arrived to the palace. Many insecure and paranoid thoughts began to consume your mind, making your heart ache and palms start to sweat.

You stood up from your bed and made your way out of your chambers, curious as to where Jimin could be and your first idea was to try his room. When getting there, you could barely notice the candle light shining from underneath door, that meant he was in his room. With your eyes trained on the bright light, you slowly reached over for the indent of the door and just as you were about to slide the door open, the sound of someone laughing stopped you. But it wasn’t just any kind of laughter, it was a woman’s laughter. You froze completely, heart stammering heavily inside your chest and legs trembling, nearly giving out. You then slowly slid the door open just barely so that there was a small enough crack to see through, and your heart sunk in your chest at the sight in front of you.

The princess could be seen laying on Jimin’s bed, the same you’ve laid on numerous times, dressed in a thin layer of pink robes, hair untied and down her back, and face clean. You glanced to the side to see Jimin laying right beside her, also wearing his sleepwear. Smiles were on both of their faces, the sight breaking your heart.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” the princess suddenly spoke up, running fingers up down Jimin’s arm. “Sleeping in the same bed together will let us get closer to one another, know each other better.” You don’t know why, but you were expecting him to tear his arm away from her but you were once again let down, tears stinging in your eyes when seeing him grab her hand and press a kiss along her knuckles. “Me too, and by the time of our wedding comes, we’ll be closer than ever because of this.” It was like each word he was saying was a knife piercing your heart. You couldn’t watch anymore, you couldn’t watch him begin to move his lips up her arm to her shoulder blade and neck, leaving even more kisses along her smooth, pale skin. You pushed yourself away from the door and headed back to your room with tears sliding down your eyes and silent sobs spewing form your mouth.

When entering your room you immediately climbed underneath the covers and attempted to let sleep engulf you. You just wanted to forget about this day entirely and hope all of this was just a terrible dream. But you couldn’t have that either, because not even ten minutes later you heard your chamber’s door slide open. You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. With your back facing your towards him, you were relieved he couldn’t see your tear-strained face. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this.

“Why are you so late,” you asked, using all your strength to conceal the shakiness in your voice. You were silently hoping that he would tell you the truth, because if is honest, there is at least a small chance of you two working through this. “I was helping the servants prepare the guest chamber for the princess,” and that’s when you felt your heart shatter. “They were having trouble setting up the bed.”

Liar, your mind screamed. “Are you going to sleep here tonight?” You asked, despite already knowing what his answer is going to be. You just wanted to hear what kind of excuse he was going use. “I-I shouldn’t,” you could hear the stutter in his voice, “there’s a lot more wandering eyes now that the princess is here...”

“Okay.” Your answer shocked Jimin. He was expecting you to beg him to stay or at least ask more questions. He certainly wasn’t expecting you to just accept it. “Baby, is everything okay?” He doesn’t notice the single tear falling from you at the mention of the nickname. He doesn’t even notice your body trembling as he approaches the side of the bed. “Yes, just tired,” you quickly said, not wanting him to be anywhere near you. “You should head to bed, it’s late and I’m sure you have some important royal duties to attend to early tomorrow morning.”

Jimin stayed frozen by your side, staring down at your lying figure with complete confusion before mumbling out a soft “goodnight” and finally leaving your room. And the moment you heard your chamber doors close, that’s when you let the silent sobs escape.

You were fool to believe him—to believe that everything would be alright.

As more and more days passed, the more it seemed Jimin was drifting away from you slowly. You thought that what happened that night was just a one time thing, that you would later have him in your bed once again, laying beside you.

But he never returned. No, instead you would always find him with the princess, not even bothering to share a glance in your direction whenever you happened to stumble upon them two. He didn’t bother to acknowledge you, treating you as if you never even existed. And it wasn’t just the sight of the two of them together and him ignoring you that hurt you, but also that he never officially ended things with you—he just slowly slipped away from you, from your life. He acted like there wasn’t anything between you two—ever, and that hurt you more than anything. Jimin was treating you as if you were nothing but a mere servant to him, and that’s it.

Throughout the past few days, whenever you would take a peaceful walk around the palace you always ended up finding them together, arms linked with one another and sharing smiles and laughs and occasional kisses that only forced the knife that was already in your heart deeper inside your chest. Whenever you saw them together, you began to notice a certain glint in his eyes—love, which made you realized he never really had that with you—at least, not as strong as it was towards her. You never thought you would ever feel this much pain. You wouldn’t even wish this on your worst enemy because it literally felt like you were dying on the inside, your heart breaking and your entire body completely shutting down.

You thought the amount of pain you were going through couldn’t get any worse. But once again, you were wrong. You found yourself assisting the other servants with the preparations—forced by the Queen herself and you couldn’t just say no to her because she was the fucking Queen. So that’s how you ended up in the ballroom instead of your own office, helping the servants set up the chairs, hang up the gorgeous decorations and even build the pristine, white alter. You lost count of how many times you got scolded by the decorators, due to yourself being lost in your thoughts, picturing this as your wedding—that you were the one that was marrying Jimin, not her.

But every time you’re brought back to reality—you’re reminded that this isn’t for you. That you aren’t the one the marrying Jimin, or the one he is going to spend the rest of his life with. You’re just a nobody to him, that’s it. It tore you apart that the many years of childhood memories with him, and two amazing years of love shared together was completely destroyed in the span of a few days. You never thought that Jimin would treat you this way. The same man who took your first your kiss, your innocence. The same man who would hold you in his arms as you both laid in bed together, placing small, tender kisses along your neck and whisper sweet words into your ear. You just wanted the man that stole your heart back again.

Today was the wedding, and you were doing everything in your power to distract yourself and hide away from the heartbreaking event.

While the ceremony was happening on one side of the palace, you were on currently the other side in your office, sitting at your desk and surrounded by dozens of medical books, reading them and hoping that it would help distract you from your thoughts—which it did, slightly. You love reading, and it could be any book, but medical ones have always interested you the most. Jimin knew that. Whenever he would travel to neighboring kingdoms for political reasons, he’d always bring back medical books for you that he bought from other physicians or merchants.

And there you go again, thinking of him when you’re trying to do the complete opposite of that. Why couldn’t you be like Jimin? Why were you so hung up on him while he easily threw you aside as if you were some piece of garbage to him? Did the love you two have for each other—or the two years you spent with one another mean absolutely nothing to him? Did he want to break your heart, because if so then he succeeded—

“Excuse me, sir,” you suddenly heard someone say, tearing you out of your thoughts and turning towards the doorway where you found yourself making eye contact with a fairly older, handsome man. The first thing you noticed when meeting his gaze was the slight pained expression he had on his face. That’s when you also then noticed the small droplets of blood coming from his right hand. “Could you possibly patch me up, please? There was a tiny incident back in the ballroom.”

You instantly stood up from your seat and approached the injured man, nodding your head. “Oh yes, of course.” You carefully took the injured man’s hand and guided him to one of your patient chairs. “Can you please take a seat while I gather everything I need?” The man listened to your request without any complaint, his gaze never leaving your body as he watched you grab alcohol and bandages before heading back towards him. “So, do you want to tell me how this happened?”

“Well,” the man spoke up softly, watching you with great intent as you applied some the alcohol onto his wound, wincing instantly. “I cut myself with my glass.” You glanced up at the man as you started to wrap the bandage around his palm, wondering if he was going to continue his story but when you saw the way he was purposely trying to avoid your gaze you knew that he wasn’t. The nibble on his bottom lip and hints of blush on his cheeks gave away that he was embarrassed.

“Don’t worry though,” you spoke, attempting to divert the attention away from him and hopefully make slightly less uncomfortable. “Your wound isn’t that serious, only a minor cut so there is no need for stitches.”

“You’re pretty good at that,” the man suddenly complimented, eyes trained on your hands as you patched up his injury, causing you to chuckle. “It’s only a simple bandaging, nothing really that extravagant.” The sound of your soft laughter brought a smile on the man’s face, heat spreading across his cheeks. “I’ve got to say though, I heard the stories about the Park Kingdom’s famous young physician—but nobody seemed to mention how beautiful he is. My kingdom could definitely use someone like you.”

The man’s words left you a speechless—and in a good way this time. After wrapping the white bandage around his injured hand, you were about ask him where he was from. But when lifting your head up from his hand, your eyes then suddenly landed on the insignia that was stitched on his shoulder. “You’re from the Kim Kingdom?”

“Good eye,” the man commented, holding his other hand out. “Kim Seokjin, nice to meet you.” Your eyes instantly widened at the name, hands immediately folding themselves in front of you and bending your entire upper body forward, bowing to the royal man. You’ve heard the stories about Kim Seokjin, how he’s one of the youngest and most respected royal in the country, and how he’s considered to be one of most handsome men to ever exist based on the scholars and matchmakers. But you never seen him physically so you never really knew what he looked like it.

“F-Forgive me, your Highness,” you quickly went to bow but was stopped by his hand on your arm, causing you to pause and glance up at him. “There’s no need to be formal with me, physician. You saved my life, so you deserve my complete respect.” You could hear slightly teasing tone in his voice but he kept his word and bowed to you, bringing a smile and hints of blush on your face. “What is your name, if you don’t mind me asking. I’d like to know who my savior is exactly.”

“____ ____, your Highness” you answered him, bowing your head and feeling his eyes burning into you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ____, and I’m serious about the position in my Kingdom—palace specifically. My previous physician has passed and my people and I could use someone with your type of skills.”

“I’m sorry, your Highness, but my place is here.” You don’t know why but you could feel your heart ache when seeing the small frown forming on Seokjin’s here. “The Park Family raised me ever since I was a child and they watched over me after my mother passed away. It would be wrong for me to leave them.”

“Very well,” Seokjin nods understandingly, and you watch as he then reaches inside his robe and pulls out a small crest of the Kim Family. “If you do happen to change your mind, come to my palace and show the guards this. That tells them that I invited you and they’ll take you to me. You’ll be treated way better over there.”

That last sentence made you freeze. “What do you mean by that, your Highness? I-I’m treated quiet fair over here.” You felt your body suddenly straighten out when Seokjin rose from his chair and stood right in front of you, towering over you due to the height difference the both of you shared. “You don’t have to lie to me, ____. The signs are all there, anyone with eyes can see that you are being treated poorly here.”

You remained silent, allowing him to continue. “When was the last time this placed was cleaned,” he asks, swiping his finger across your desk and collecting some dust. The cleaning servants stopped coming the moment A-Yeong showed up and stole Jimin’s complete attention. “I noticed that your office is located on the other side of the palace—completely isolated and away from everyone else. Shouldn’t you—the only doctor in the palace be near everyone else? And why is that you are the only one with medical experience here? Shouldn’t you have at least two assistant nurses aiding you? Every physician must have.”

As more and more questions continued pouring out of his mouth, the more you began to wonder as well. Everything he was questioning about and saying was true. Like, why exactly are you far away from everyone else and why is it that you are the only one here? Before you and Jimin got together, your chambers were in the same section of the palace with the royal family, but once you started having a romantic relationship with him you were suddenly moved to the other side of the home. Jimin made it sound like you were getting an upgrade, having an entire part of the palace to yourself, but now it sounded like he just didn’t want you to be around anyone else—almost like he was ashamed of you. Maybe that’s also why there hasn’t been anybody else hired to aide you with your work, because he doesn’t want the risk of anyone finding out about you two.

“And I don’t even want to ask where you sleep because I think I already know,” Seokjin continues with a sympathetic frown on his face. “You sleep in this section of the palace alone, don’t you?” And when you didn’t say anything back, Seokjin then patted your shoulder comfortingly and said, “just think about it, alright? I promise you won’t regret coming over to work for me instead.”

When you only nodded, Seokjin left you with a gentle brush of his hand against your arm, leaving you alone once again in your office—at least you thought you were alone. But little did you know there was a certain blonde prince standing right outside the door, listening to every word that was shared between you and other royal.

As more and more hours passed, the more you got lost in your thoughts, Seokjin’s words flooding your mind constantly and echoing inside. You were so consumed by them that you didn’t realize the once vibrant sun and bright sky was replaced with complete darkness and the moon shining up high, surrounded by millions of twinkling stars. You definitely didn’t notice the blonde-hair royal standing in the center of your doorway, arms crossed over his chest and eyes burning into you. “Where were you today?”

You froze at the sound of his voice, your gaze refusing to meet his as you still kept your eyes on your medical books scattered on your desk. “There was some things I had to work on here,” you answered him without lifting your head up. “And you can’t really blame me for not wanting to be there, Jimin—I mean, your Highness.”

When finally raising your head to meet his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel your breath get hitched in the back of your throat at the sight of him. Jimin was dressed in his sleepwear, his cotton shirt parted down the middle, exposing his toned chest and making you swallow the small lump in your throat. And after briefly admiring his torso, that’s when you noticed the facial expression that was as plastered on his face. He wasn’t happy. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your wife?”

Jimin could clearly hear the harshness in your tone, feeling guilty at the sight of you avoiding his eyes but he couldn’t blame you. He knew how he has been treating you lately for these past few days and it was completely reasonable for you to be furious at him. “I’m sorry, honey,” he slowly started approaching you, noticing the way your body tensed at the pet name. “I had to keep up appearances, and with so many new faces around I couldn’t risk anyone finding out about us.”

With your back facing towards him, you could slowly feel your heart start to quicken when feeling his arms suddenly slipping around your waist and pressing soft, delicately kisses along the back of your neck. “I love you and only you, baby. You’re the one I want but you know I have no power over this.” Every word that he was saying made your heart beat faster and Jimin knew that because he could slowly feel you start to relax against him, bringing a small smirk on his face. He knew exactly what to say to you to make you fall back to him. “I promise you—give me more time and we will be together, okay? Do you trust me?”

When noticing the clear hesitation in your eyes, Jimin leaned down and pressed his lips softly against yours. He thought you have finally given up on him but he then suddenly started to feel you kiss back after a few seconds, causing him to smile against your lips. Jimin knew this was wrong, giving you hope that the future you wanted with him can still happen when he knew that it was not possible now that he was married—not like it could ever happen anyway. It was not just impossible for a royal and commoner to be in a relationship, but also the family of the royal would be forever shunned and the commoner they chose to be with would be executed—and yet, Jimin still chose to pursue you.

At first Jimin thought you were the love of his life, but after meeting A-Yeong, he realized that he never actually loved you. In just the one week he has known the princess, she made him feel things he has never felt with you. You never once made his heart stop at the sight of you, or took his breath away. Your presence never brought a real, genuine smile on his face, instead a more forced one. Jimin was confused why he was suddenly feeling this way, but he then started to think back to where you two first started. He was stressed out over his studies and you were the first person he ran into that day, and next thing he knew he was back in his chambers with you underneath him, crying out his name as he thrusted into you mercilessly. That’s when a new routine of him coming to you whenever he needed to release some stress started.

That’s what you were always to him—a stress reliever, and it took meeting A-Yeong and getting to know her for him to finally realize that. But for some reason when the thought of you leaving him ran through his kind, it made feel sort of uneasy. He wasn’t in love you, he knew that. But you leaving him meant he wouldn’t have anyone to release his stress onto, and he couldn’t just sleep with any servant because they were all loyal to his parents while you were more independent—which was beneficial for his case. He didn’t want to lose you—correction, he didn’t want to lose the sex. Yes, he loved A-Yeong but she was purely vanilla and he found that bland. But you, you were the most perfect partner that allows him to try and do anything he wanted and he couldn’t lose that. So Jimin did the one thing he knew that would convince you to stay with him. He fucked you—or in your words, “made love.”

With his lips still moving with yours, Jimin pulled away and turned you around so that his chest was now pressed up against your back. “I love you,” he whispered into your neck as he placed kisses down along your skin as he slowly stripped you out of your robes until you were completely bare and ready for him.

Jimin spent the entire night with you, using everything in his power to convince you to stay. He would whisper sweet words into your ear while thrusting into you at a rough pace, each thrust sending your body forward and a low, whimpering moan to come out of you. In between thrusts, Jimin would press a soft, tender kiss underneath your earlobe and whisper “I love you.” He would roll his eyes when he would only get a moan in reply—that not being what he exactly wanted to hear. But after two amazing rounds and you both later laying in your bed and in his arms, when he finally heard you say those three words he knew that he got what he wanted.

You were his, and only his.

Once again, you were a weak fool to believe him. You weren’t surprise to find your bed empty the next morning.

But you being you, you believed he left early in the morning so that nobody would find out that he stayed there with you when in reality, Jimin actually left the moment you fell asleep so that he could go back to his wife make real love with her, and soon after fall asleep with her in his arms.

The next day when you found Jimin once again ignoring you completely, thinking it was just him acting so that nobody grew suspicious of you two. But as days went by, and those days soon turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into two months since you even spoken to Jimin, you came to realize that he was ignoring you as if that night you two shared didn’t even happen.

But you being the oblivious person that you were, you kept hope. You’d spend nights staring at your door, hoping that one night he would come into your room to lay with you, to hold you in his arms again. But it never happened.

It wasn’t until three months later, when the princess came to see you that you reached your last straw. She claimed to visit because she wasn’t feeling well, and after checking her out, finding out what her symptoms were you came to find out that she was pregnant—exactly three months pregnant. Which meant Jimin slept with her the same night he slept with you. That is when you finally accepted the fact he wasn’t yours anymore and that the future you pictured having with him is never going to happen.

That’s when you had the thought of leaving. There is no way you were going to stay here and suffer for the rest of your life. So, later that day you found yourself packing your things such as clothes and handwritten medical records into a small bag, comfortable for travel. It’s not like you wanted to leave in the first place—you love the people that live and work here, they were like a family to you. You just don’t know if you even have the strength to endure this pain any longer.

As you were shoving the last piece of clothing into your bag, a soft, delicate voice caused you to freeze. “Where are you going?” Turning your head towards your chamber door where the voice was coming from, your eyes landed on the former Queen—Jimin’s grandmother standing there with a concern look on her face. You couldn’t help but feel your heart ache at the sight of the small pain in her eyes. Seeing your nearly empty room and the packed bag laid out on your bed, she didn’t need an answer because she already knew.

You walked towards her and took her hands into yours, offering a warm, heartfelt smile. “I cannot stay here anymore, your Highness—I-I can’t stay and watch him with her...” You could see tears forming in her eyes as you spoke, flashing you an understanding frown and nod. She placed her other hand on top of yours and leaned over to give you small peck on the cheek. “Promise me that’ll you take care of yourself while you are out there?” You gave her a small nod which made her frown lift up slightly. “And promise me that once things get better you’ll come back and visit me...”

“Of course,” you replied without any hesitation, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her into a hug. “And thank you for everything you’ve done for me—for my mother. If it weren’t for you I would’ve died alongside her that day...” Jimin’s grandmother instantly shook her head and ran her hand comfortingly down your arm. “Don’t say that sweetie, I promised your mother that I would watch after you—” she suddenly then paused, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to keep that...”

“Don’t blame yourself for what happened,” you quickly reassured her, leaning forward to press a kiss on her cheek. “It’s not your fault for how the King and Queen has treated me lately ever since my mother passed. And as for J-Jimin—” you stuttered, tears stinging in your eyes once again. “—never mind. I should go, the guards shifts are changing right now and this is my only chance to slip out without being detected.”

With one last kiss on her cheek and hug goodbye, you left your room with your bag in a hand.

You thought leaving the Park residence would be something hard for you to do and accept. But the moment you took one last glance at the beautiful palace and took your first step outside, you felt as if a huge weight was then suddenly lifted from your shoulders.

This is your life now—a new beginning.

“Your Highness,” Kim Seokjin raises his head at the sound of his name being called, his eyes landing on his advisor entering his office and bowing his head in front of him. “There’s somebody here to see you.”

Seokjin was about to ask him who it was, but he was left speechless when you suddenly appeared behind his advisor. Even with your clothes slightly torn, probably from your journey here and the faint signs of dirt on your face, you still looked beautiful as ever to him.

You were truly breathtaking in his eyes.

“Physician ____,” Seokjin stood up from his seat and approached you with a smile grin on his face. “What are you doing here?” He asks, and your next words to him made the grin on his face grow ten times more wider.

“Is that physician position still open...?”

Continuing onto “Love Again”

TAGLIST:

@jolesofthehowls, @chifsami, @theclawofsa, @imluckybitches, @jimidol, @pjmislovely, @daydreambrliever, @xavi-in-kpopland, @imaniceperson14, @peachmelodii, @blazedprince

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sunnyville36 · 3 years

Text

Mamihlapinatapai {part 4}

We're almost to the end!! Much love to all of you for reading 💜

Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1} {part 2} {part 3}

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: mentions of death/war/murder, mentions of torture (brief), mentions of physical abuse (brief), emotionally abusive parents

Rating: Mature

Word count: 5.4k

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Mamihlapinatapai - (noun, Yagán origin) a silent acknowledgement and understanding between two people, who are both wishing or thinking the same thing (and are both unwilling to initiate)

Instincts | Kingdom of Gu, present day

You’d slept maybe a total of twelve hours in the three days since the poisoning attempt. Things were still tense between you and Chan after your outburst at the pond. The king didn’t want him leaving the safety of his chambers, not knowing if there would be another attack on his life, which meant you only really saw him at mealtimes. You’d tried to apologize for raising your voice at him a few times but could never manage to look him in the eye, always leaving the room before he could say anything more than a thank you for the food. You were also avoiding him because you felt you’d revealed something in those words, a small part of the way you felt about him, and you weren’t ready to confront any of the implications from that just yet. At night, you couldn’t sleep, your thoughts full of fear for Chan’s safety and concern for what would happen between Gu and Lajor. So you’d spent the hours wandering the outskirts and corridors of the castle, lingering especially in the wing where the prince’s room was.

It was on the third night of your rounds, as you were walking the eastern side of the castle that faced the forest, the air humid and suffocating on your skin, that you spotted a flash of gold hair headed for the base of the closest tower. You turned and followed the hooded figure as they approached the castle entrance, and the growing sinking feeling in your stomach was confirmed when their face caught the light.

You had to hand it to her, she either had a death wish or nerves of steel to show up here again.

Korenna was attempting to break through the bolt on the door when you pulled up behind her, bringing a hand to her mouth and a knife to her throat.

“I could kill you where you stand, and no one would protest at my decision.”

“You could, but I don’t believe you will,” she responded, voice calmer than you expected.

You whipped her around to face you, snarling in a whisper, “Don’t you dare use my own words against me. I said that to you when I thought I could trust you, and you’ve made it blatantly clear that was a misjudgement on my part.”

“Y/n no please listen it wasn’t. I know I was rude and standoffish - “

“Rude and standoffish?!” you repeated in disbelief. “Sure that’s definitely what we’re talking about right now. You know, I always thought maybe it was because you were a shy person, or because you were jealous, but, as it turns out, you just aren’t one of those people who likes to get really close to the person she’s trying to murder.”

Korenna looked like she was about to cry, leaning forward as if to grab at your arms despite the knife still pointing at her throat. “Please, Y/n, that’s not what I meant, I can explain! Do you really think you were so wrong about me; do you really think I could kill a man in cold blood?”

You shouldn’t even be entertaining her excuses, you thought to yourself. She was trying to use your pride against you, to trick you into letting her explain herself so you didn’t have to admit you were wrong. But, like always, as you watched her, trying to discern any ounce of deceit or malice, you found none.

You lowered the knife, stepping back and motioning for her to continue.

“You know that my father was crazy enough to try to invade Gu all those years ago. What you don’t know is that he’s only gotten more delusional and power hungry over all these years, hell bent on taking down your kingdom as revenge against King Bang and completely disregarding the well being of his own. Last year, I had been trying to gather support from the ministers, to show them just how corrupt, how evil he had become. That was when my mother died and my father finally snapped, leaving me and my nine year old sister completely at the whim of his wrath. He locked Paige away at some secret fortress and told me that if I didn’t agree to his plan of killing Prince Chan and wreaking havoc on your kingdom, he would leave her alone to starve to death. He gave me three weeks to decide and I searched for her desperately, but at the end of it I was no closer to finding her and was forced to agree to the marriage he had arranged to initiate his plot.”

“Why should I believe any of this?”

“Because she’s here, right now. We crossed the border with a small group of knights who are sympathetic to our position. They wanted to help me, and I want to help you, but I had to make sure my sister was safe. Now that she is, we can work together to protect your kingdom and hopefully preserve mine.”

You were silent, taking her and her story in.

“If you could just bring me to Chris, let me tell him all of this, apologize for what I did,” she pleaded, eyes begging even more than her words.

“Fine. I will bring you to His Highness, and he will decide what to do with you.”

***

You led Korenna past the guards, neither of them giving you a second look when they saw it was you despite your concealed companion. Chan was known for burning the midnight oil, and tonight was no different. You could see the light drifting out from beneath his door as you knocked lightly, and were met with his quiet, “Come in.”

You opened the door, remaining in the door frame as he turned to face you. “Your Highness, there’s someone here to see you,” you said, stepping aside and pushing Korenna in front of you before you followed in and shut the door.

Chan sat still for a moment, then leaned back in his chair, legs and arms crossed in his most casual yet intimidating pose.

“Unless my oldest friend has decided to kill me tonight, which I certainly hope is not the case, you must have had a pretty convincing reason for her to bring you here.”

Korenna remained silent, looking between you and the prince nervously.

Chan rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated. “Well? Let me hear it.”

She told him everything, about her father’s plot and her involvement, the threats against her sister, how she had support from the knights and probably a fair majority of the people as well.

“I know you could never forgive me for what I did, but I am truly, sincerely sorry,” she said, head bowed.

The prince seemed to be contemplating her story just as you had. Finally, his voice broke the silence.

“Show me this sister of yours and then I will decide how we proceed.”

***

You walked next to Chan as you followed Korenna into the forest where her sister was supposedly waiting with the Lajoran knights. You didn’t like this plan, knew if Korenna’s description was true, you and Chan would be severely outnumbered should things turn south, but Chan had insisted on only taking you with him. He looked unusually pensive as you walked, and you decided to take this opportunity to give your apology, in case it happened to be your last.

“Your Highness,” you said quietly, “I’ve been meaning to tell you how sorry I am for how I spoke to you by the pond. You were only trying to comfort me and I took my insecurities out on you and you didn’t deserve that.”

He put his arm out in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? Y/n, I’ve been trying to ask you for three days if you were alright and all this time you’ve been feeling guilty? Please, please don’t feel that way, I would never blame you for what happened and I was never upset about our conversation. Promise me you won’t keep anything like this from me again?”

You looked at each other and you nodded, both silently agreeing not to touch on the part of that previous conversation where you revealed something else you’d been keeping from him.

The two of you jogged back up to where Korenna had stopped at a small, raised hill surrounded by rocks. It certainly was a good vantage point and hiding spot. Once again, you hoped your instincts about this woman and her intentions would be correct.

Korenna led you around the corner of one of the rocks, and that was when you saw the young girl. She was lying wrapped in a blanket despite the heat, and her hair looked dirty and matted. The men sitting around her straightened as Korenna approached the group, but she held up her hand to show them you were on their side. The girl lifted her head when she heard your footsteps, her gaunt face morphing into a smile at the sight of her sister.

“Korenna, you’re back,” she rasped as the elder knelt and wrapped her in a hug, and your heart broke at the sound of her barely there voice.

“Your Highness…”

“I know,” he said, reading what you were going to say from the tone of your voice, “we need to get her to Felix.”

You both approached the pair and you knelt down next to Korenna, speaking softly to the younger princess.

“Hello Paige. My name is Y/n. I’m a friend of your sister. She’s brought you a really long way to make sure you’re safe, and we’re going to get you some help now so you can feel better. Would that be alright with you?”

The little girl nodded, and you looked up at Korenna, silently asking permission to pick her up. Korenna nodded as well, so you gathered Paige into your arms and began the trek back to the palace, some of the knights following along with you. You looked behind you to see Chan place his hand on Korenna’s shoulder.

“Thank you for showing me. Together we’re going to make this right.”

Conscription | Kingdom of Lajor, present day

“Your Majesty, the villagers are reporting they have no more men to send, and those in the city have been rioting for two days since the conscription announcement went out. The knights can barely keep the peace and we have more and more deserters every day. I’m just not sure we should continue hounding the people - ”

King Eunther looked up from his seat in the throne room, cutting the man off with a steely, impenetrable gaze.

“Sir Bavrard, do the people control this kingdom?”

“N-no, Your Majesty.”

“And do the knights?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Then please explain to me why you are suggesting we listen to the complaints of those ungrateful, insubordinate traitors over my own direct orders?!” the king shouted, Sir Bavrard cowering beneath him.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, I just don’t know what else we can do to compel such a large uprising - “

“I’ll tell you what you can do,” King Eunther snarled, rising from his chair, “you can tell them that if they don’t cooperate, you will bring them to stand in front of me and I will personally remove their head from their body. Do I make myself clear?!”

32 men died that day.

Checkmate | Kingdom of Gu, present day

You entered the infirmary, walking over to where Prince Felix sat at the bedside of a much healthier looking Paige.

“Y/n!” she called, her head peeking around Felix’s shoulder to smile at you.

“Hello little princess,” you said, returning her smile as you came to stand beside Felix. “I’m glad to see you doing much better. Do you mind if I borrow your companion for a moment?”

“Nope!” she pronounced, going back to the book she’d been reading as Felix followed you to the corner of the room.

“You were right, her condition is much improved,” Felix said. “I’m still a little worried about her malnourishment, but as long as she remains well fed and warm, she should be alright.”

“That’s good news; Princess Korenna will be glad to hear it. She wanted me to thank you for tending to her, Your Grace.”

“I’m delighted to!” he exclaimed quietly. “She’s got quite the personality in that little body of hers, kept me on my toes the last few days.”

As if on cue, Paige piped up from behind the two of you, “Felix, could I have that glass of orange juice you’d said you’d bring me? I waited ten minutes like you said.”

“See?” he said with a smile and a raise of his eyebrows, turning to leave the room. You followed after him, sending a wave and a wink to the princess on your way.

You headed back to the throne room, where King Bang, Chan, Korenna, Minho, and the rest of the head knights were gathered. They’d been discussing their plans for the imminent Lajoran attack for a few days now, Korenna and her knights filling in any gaps of knowledge or speculating on Eunther’s strategies when they could. You’d been in attendance as well, taking notes, marking maps, and giving suggestions every once in a while. Battle planning had never been your favorite task; you couldn’t help but think about all the senseless loss that came from two men getting into a pissing contest over who should control what land or trying to ‘avenge their honor.’ Surely there had to be a better way, especially in this situation where it was clear the Lajoran people were not exactly in support of their ruler, to defeat a rogue king without the death of innocent people.

Entering the room, you caught eyes with Korenna, who walked over to meet you in the far corner.

“Prince Felix says she’s still stable, Your Grace. As long as we keep her here and watch that she’s getting enough food, she should recover just fine.”

“Oh thank god, what a relief,” Korenna sighed, placing one hand on your arm and one over her chest. “I can’t begin to thank you all enough for what you’ve done for us.”

Your ears perked at that. Korenna seemed like she also despised the loss of innocent life, considering she hadn’t even been able to kill her father’s enemy despite her own sister being in danger. Maybe you could suggest your proposal to her and she could advocate for it, as a way of repaying you all and preventing more death.

“Actually, Your Grace, if I may, there is something I was considering. There may be a potential way to prevent an all out battle between our two peoples, if what you’ve told us is true about your father’s current standing amongst your citizens. If you were to propose it, the others might take more kindly to it than if it came from me.”

Korenna didn’t say anything, so you took that as a sign to continue. You explained what you had been turning over in your head for the past few days, checking a few of the details with her. When you finished, the princess looked a little apprehensive.

“I am in total support of that plan, Y/n,” the princess explained. “But I worry that if it comes from me, King Bang is going to reject it outright. I can tell he is not as convinced of my intentions as you and Chris are.”

She had a point. If the plan were to come from her, it would probably seem more suspicious, more likely to be a trap. However, you feared the king wouldn’t consider you proposing such a plan to be much more trustworthy.

Korenna seemed to be reading that exact thought on your face as she said, “Why don’t you angle it towards Chris; I know he holds your input in high regard.”

You felt your heart tug at her statement, but pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. Korenna was right; you could do this. You nodded at her and you both returned to the table.

The men were talking, so you tried clearing your throat, but that seemed to do nothing to get their attention. Noticing your hesitation, Korenna interrupted.

“Gentlemen, I believe Y/n has something to say.”

You smiled gratefully at her then turned your attention to Chan. If you could just remain focused on him you were confident you could explain your plan and maybe even convince them to buy in to it too.

“Your Highness, I’ve been thinking of a way that we could perhaps avoid any direct conflict with Lajor. We already know that Her Grace has many supporters, as evidenced by our friends here. And according to their reports, the people are in no position to support a war; this is all one man’s doing. So if we can eliminate that one man, our problem would be solved.

I propose we arrange a meeting with King Eunther. Somewhere neutral, away from the majority of our armies. We frame it as a truce meeting, have him go into it thinking he will get some concessions from our side in order to prevent a fight. In reality, we use it as a chance to capture him unawares. Her Grace can confront her father, and if our information is correct, the knights and soldiers will take her side and we can end this situation with zero loss of life and a new friend on the Lajoran throne.”

You glanced at Korenna and saw she was smiling brightly at you. Looking back at Chan, you could tell he was seriously considering what you had said, head pressed together with Minho in quiet conversation. The Lajoran and Guan knights were murmuring to each other, indicating agreement with what you’d proposed. The only person who appeared to be against it was King Bang.

“Using deception and ambushing a man has always been considered dishonorable,” the king spat, as if you had insulted the very foundation of the kingdom. “Wars are meant to be fought on the battlefield and our army could easily outpace Lajor’s; there are expectations and traditions that should be upheld.”

It took everything in you not to scream at him, to unleash a lifetime’s worth of anguish caused by his ignorance and arrogance. You’d had enough of hearing this man talk about all the noble pursuits of battle without ever having to face the consequences of one. You turned to him, your chin held high.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but this is not about the “honor” of taking him down on the battlefield. This is about not sacrificing the lives of men to maintain your own sense of righteousness.”

The room went silent at that. You kept your eyes on the king, could feel him seething under his impartial expression. Under any other circumstances, the punishment for what you’d just said would be severe. But everyone in the room was starting to come to the realization that your plan had merit. It would be faster, easier, less costly, and less deadly than simply bracing for an attack, no matter how “dishonorable” it might seem. And even the king knew now was not the time to berate you, though you were sure it would come back to haunt you later.

You felt Chan press his hand to the small of your back, the sign of support giving you more strength. “Y/n is right. Even if we would be likely to take a victory in battle, her plan has the best chance of rooting out the cause of our problem here and now and placing both our kingdoms in a better position for the long term. If anyone disagrees, they should speak now.”

Everyone kept silent, some nodding their heads in agreement with the decision.

“Then we shall prepare to execute it.”

***

You avoided the throne room as much as possible for the next few days as preparations were made, wanting to have as little interaction with the king as you could. Chan had praised you after the meeting, had said he was proud you’d spoken up to his father. You knew the prince had the best of intentions, but you also knew he could never understand what it was like to know that by doing what you did, you’d surrendered yourself to whatever punishment the king saw fit to assign after this ordeal came to an end.

A rider had been dispatched to Lajor to deliver the terms of your meeting. In the letter, Gu had agreed to secede the western most portion of its territory as well as deliver half its military forces to Lajor. The only stipulation was an in person meeting to sign the documents. As suspected, King Eunther was too tempted by power to see through your guise, thin as it may have been. The meeting was set for today at noon.

Armies from both sides were prepared, in case this peace offering did not go smoothly. The plan was to bring you, Chan, Korenna, King Bang, Minho, the Lajoran knights, and a few members of your own royal guard to the meeting place, which was designated to be the same spot in the forest where the earlier attempt on Chan’s life took place.

Hours before the meeting, you were making your way through the forest as quickly and quietly as you could, bow strapped to your back and dressed in your most inconspicuous woodland attire. You were to arrive at the grove early so you could take your position prior to anyone else arriving, or, in the worst case, report back if an enemy agent was attempting to do the same. It was decided earlier that you would walk there alone, in order to leave as little trace as possible.

You didn’t mind the solitude as you meandered through the woods, trying not to leave an obvious trail behind you. Before you’d left, Korenna had come to confirm with you the signal for your part of the plan. Then, just as you were about to enter the forest, a voice called your name.

“Y/n!”

“Your Highness, you should be preparing with the others.”

“I know I-I just had to see you before you go. To tell you goodluck.”

You looked at him and, steeling yourself for what you were about to do, tugged him into a crushing embrace. He returned the hug, his head close enough to hear you whisper, “You too.”

Both of you were well aware of the hundreds of unspoken things behind the brief words you exchanged, but they were all that needed to be said for now.

You reached the clearing and found the tree with the best camouflage that had the vantage point you wanted. Climbing up, you settled in for the long wait until the rest of the players arrived.

***

After about two hours, you heard the distinctive clopping of hooves coming from the direction of the Gu palace. A few moments later, your friends came into sight of the clearing. Remaining hidden, you watched as they fanned out into a semi-circle facing the direction of Lajor, King Bang and Korenna in the center.

Minutes passed and the Lajorans were nowhere to be seen. It felt eerily quiet in the forest, and you began to worry King Eunther had caught on to your plan and was in the midst of attacking the city as you all stood here waiting for him. However, after another few tense minutes, the Lajoran party arrived, consisting of King Eunther, his most trusted advisor Sir Bavrard, and thirty or so additional knights on foot, far more than the agreed upon fifteen. You surveyed them as they formed a group behind Eunther. Most looked anxious, like they weren’t quite sure what they should do in the event they were told to act, others seemed outright bored, and they all appeared to be sorely lacking in food and armament. Just as Korenna had predicted, and just as you’d counted on for your plan to work.

“Sir Alfrey,” Eunther began, spotting Korenna’s biggest supporter on his horse beside her, “I should have known you’d be behind all this.”

Your friends remained silent, their expressions blank.

The king seemed slightly unnerved at the lack of response, and decided to try another tactic. “So, am I to believe you brought my daughter here as a gesture of good faith, an additional item to be returned to me in the terms of our... arrangement?”

Chan’s even tempered voice rang out. “She is not our prisoner; she came to us of her own free will.”

“And what of my younger daughter, Paige?”

“Don’t. Speak. Her name,” Korenna gritted out.

“Oh Korenna, you stupid girl; you’re the whole reason we’re in this unpleasant mess, so just stay quiet and let the men do the talking.”

You felt an angry coil rise in the pit of your stomach at his words, more resolved than ever to execute your plan and free Korenna from this abuse for good. Taking your stance, you kept your eyes trained on the Lajoran king.

“No, father. I will not stay quiet,” Korenna spoke again. It had been agreed she would do most of the talking; the more riled up the king became the more reckless he would be, and his daughter talking back to him seemed to do the trick perfectly.

Eunther opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak, Korenna continued. “We did not ask you here today to sign a truce or give you any concessions to appease you. We came here to put an end to this feud and an end to your rule. You have irresponsibly and unjustly led our people, going so far as to torture and kill them when they do not agree with your machinations. It is my obligation to remove you from the throne for the sake of our kingdom. You will surrender to us now and I will walk our men off this battlefield and home to their families.”

You knew it would be your cue soon, your arm pulling back to anchor an arrow at the corner of your mouth.

“I think you can see my forces far outnumber yours at the moment,” the king said, gesturing to the knights behind him. “And sadly you seem to believe our people are as disloyal as you are, an unfortunate misjudgement. Why would I ever agree to your weak-minded, insolent little proposal?”

You let the arrow fly, and watched as it sailed just past Eunther, nicking his ear and drawing the tiniest drop of blood.

In the ensuing chaos caused by the seemingly rogue arrow, your team of knights rushed the Lajoran side, many of them laying down their weapons immediately in the face of the much healthier, much better armed Guan force. You looked to see Minho drag Bavrard out from where he was crouched under the legs of his horse, lest an arrow attempt to find him as its target. The other royals from your party remained safe in their position below and slightly to the left of your own. Satisfied, you notched another arrow.

King Eunther put his hand to his ear, feeling the cut, and rose his gaze to find you perched in the treetops above. “You missed.”

“I assure you,” you heard Chan say, “if she’d wanted it, you’d be dead.”

“I don’t want to kill you father,” came Korenna’s softer-edged voice. “But if your choice is not to surrender, well, I’m afraid you’ve forced my hand.”

The smug look finally left the king’s face, his eyes darting around to see his companions abandoning him. He got down from his horse, arms open wide in a begging posture mirroring his attitude that had shifted on a dime, hoping to win over his daughter with fake apologies and promises. Damn, you thought, this man really doesn’t have a principled bone in his body.

“Korenna, daughter, please don’t do this. I’m sure we can - “

An arrow landed in the grass between his feet. He’d taken one step too close for your liking.

“Sir Alfrey,” Korenna instructed, “please take my father into custody.”

The king blanched as the knight dismounted and stepped forward, a steady stream of curses leaving his lips.

“I will get my revenge on you, you impudent little girl! How do you think you will succeed in this plan of yours without me; you know nothing of running a kingdom! You should watch your back, dear daughter, for I will always be lurking; I swear to you, you will never be rid of me!”

“Actually, father,” Korenna said, riding past him on her striking white mare, “I already am.”

Reign | Kingdom of Lajor, present day

Standing outside the palace gates hand-in-hand with Paige, you couldn’t keep the smile off your face. You’d just exited the carriage that had carried King Bang, Chan, you, and the little princess back to her kingdom. Korenna’s coronation was happening today, and luckily Paige had recovered enough to travel just in time to make it for her sister’s momentous occasion.

After Korenna had successfully confronted her father, she had made her way to the waiting Lajoran army and proclaimed there would be no battle. They’d rejoiced and, unlike her father’s deluded assumption of the opposite, the kingdom had welcomed her as their ruler with open arms. You and the others had returned to announce the good news to your own citizens, and to Paige, who was ecstatic at her sister’s triumph. The last few days had been spent drafting amendments and additions to your trade agreements and foreign policy documents; with Korenna on the throne, Lajor and Gu’s relationship would transform from one of hostility to one of cooperation. In all the bustle, you’d somehow managed to avoid a confrontation with King Bang over your behavior at the war table that day, but you couldn’t help thinking it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped.

You were ushered inside, hundreds of people weaving in and out amongst the beautifully decorated corridors as you found your way to the throne room. You left the royals to take their seats at the front of the crowd while you went in search of your mother.

Many attendees from Gu, knights, servants, and citizens alike, had come to observe the ceremony, as a kind of display of support and camaraderie for your kingdom’s newly found ally. You found your mother along the left side wall in a relatively uncrowded spot and took your place to watch your friend as she approached the priest who would bestow upon her the title of Queen of Lajor.

Between the hum of the clergymen reciting holy texts and oaths, you heard your mother whisper, “She knows not the sacrifice she makes to hold this position.”

You thought back to every conversation you’d had with Korenna, how in each and every one she demonstrated a profound devotion to her kingdom and her people. “I think she does,” you responded.

“It must be daunting, knowing that responsibility sits on your shoulders from the very beginning.” She saw your gaze shift from Korenna to Chan, seated at the front of the room next to his father, looking proudly up at the princess.

“I can only imagine.”

She paused, then continued, “Do you think you could bear that burden?”

Your mother was well aware of your feelings for the prince, had been since you tearily confessed to her the night of your one and only kiss. So you knew what she meant. Knew the question she was really asking, the question you’d pondered yourself more times than you could count.

Would you sacrifice the relative freedom you enjoyed now, agree to be beholden to a people and their wellbeing, in order to be with Chris, the man you loved?

Surprised at this line of questioning though you were, you answered honestly. “If given the chance, I would bear it a hundred times over.”

Your attention was drawn back to the ceremony then, the priest announcing in a booming voice that Lajor had a new queen, Queen Korenna Dormio, first of her name.

The crowd erupted in applause, and you saw Paige dash up the dias steps to wrap her arms around her sister. You felt the presence of eyes on you and looked to see Chan, his head turned to smile at you in the crowd. You smiled back, and the answer you’d given your mother rang in your mind, as true as you’d ever felt it.

You would give anything for him.

{part 5}

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

Fireworks

A/n: this is not requested but i needed to write something for me and I always love writing best friend!jisung (this turned out to be hella long btw). Also i just realized this is the 16th jisung fic on my masterlist wtf. Welp happy sweet sixteen jisung.

Tag List: @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @yangomangos @jeonqqin @geminirules @crscendoforsung @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @kodzu-ken @konenichi @yangs-jeongin @binniebutter @skzwriternet

Warnings: cussing probably, lil distressed jisung, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: Y/n and Jisung practically grew up together. Y/n always dreamed of getting her fairytale happy ending. So, Jisung is surprised when she is settling for an all but labeled ‘arranged marriage’ to an asshole that Jisung knows doesn’t love her. Not like he does. Can Jisung convince himself to go after what he really wants and take the risks that come with it? Can Y/n face the facts that what she has wanted has been in front of her all along?

Genre: romance, fluff, angst, non-idol!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers!au, wedding crasher!au, Fem Reader

❃

“Please, come today!”

Jisung sighed over the phone. “Y/n. I have no knowledge whatsoever about dresses. Especially wedding dresses! They’re all white! What’s the difference?” I could hear the murmurs of Changbin and Chan on the other side of the line. “See. I will be no help at all!” Despite the negative connotation of his words I could hear the tiny smile in his voice.

“So, we’re meeting outside the shop at five.”

“Y/n, I’m not going.”

“2146 Chyeongsong Ave, got it?”

“Yes, I’ve got it.”

Letting out a happy laugh I hung up on my best friend, sure that his attendance could be accounted for. The wedding was three months away. Jiho, my fiancee, had no desire for a big wedding and it seemed the sooner we were married the happier he would be.

But, I had always dreamed of a magical wedding with hundreds of people watching me marry the man of my dreams. So, we compromised. He said I could plan as big I wedding as I wanted as long as I could get it done in three months and he would pay for it.

Jiho was the son of one of Seoul’s big company presidents. His family was very kind and seemed to welcome me with open arms despite my less than formal upbringing. Jiho grew up in a penthouse apartment and went to the best university in Seoul.

I grew up in a tiny house in the rundown suburbs next door my best friend, Jisung, and busted my ass to get scholarships and pay my way through a cheap college. Jisung was beside me in all the big moments in my life. He was my best friend and I loved him more than anything.

“So, what did he say?”

Sooyoung’s head of curly dark hair popped over the cubicle divider separating our two desks. I laughed and gave her a thumbs up. “You doubted my power of Jisung persuation?”

“Never. You could convince that boy to run around Gangnam with his shoes on his ears and screaming at the top of his lungs if you wanted to.” Laughing at the thought, I turned back to my computer, desperately watching the minutes tick by before I would get to start searching for my wedding dress.

❃

A slightly chilling breeze blew across the street. Jisung regardless of his lack of enthusiasm on the phone picked me up from work to walk with me to my dress appointment. My mother, other best friend Yuri, and Jiho’s sister Bo Rim were already waiting outside. Everyone greeted us with a smile as we walked up. My arm was looped with Jisung’s and my hand was stuffed in his jacket pocket since it was cold.

My mother smiled and embraced Jisung with a kiss on the cheek before motioning us inside. My entourage and I were quickly greeted by a consultant. “Hi! My name is Hyunsoon, I’ll be your consultant today. You must be the gorgeous bride, Y/n!” She smiled looking me up and down before glancing at my arm linked with the man beside me. “And is this handsome young man your husband-to-be?”

Jisung shook his head dark hair falling in his eyes. A tight smile sat on his lips as he answered the woman. “No, I’m just the best friend. I’m not going to stay for the whole appointment.” She nodded looking at Jisung with new eyes. “I want to be surprised. Regardless, Y/n will look radiant in whatever she chooses.”

After a few questions about my wedding Hyunsoon led me back into a dressing room and my family and friends to a couch with mirrors around it.

“Are you excited for your wedding?” She asked with a kind smile, placing dressing on the wall of the dressing room for me to see.

“You could say that,”

Her brows furrowed. “You don’t sound very excited?” I shrugged and laughed nervously. The dresses she had picked out were very pretty. Sensing I had nothing more to say on the topic she helped me into the first dress.

It was weird to see myself in the garment. I watched her fix the dress with clips so it would fit as it should before looking over to me. The dress was more of a ball gown style. It poofed out just above my hips and was strapless with a sweetheart neckline.

“Do you want to go out and show them?” I nodded and helped her pick up the many layers of tulle skirt. Hearing fabric brush against the ground as we walked out of the hallway, the heads of my entourage turned. Several smiles were seen from my view in the mirror as I stepped up onto the pedestal.

I gazed once again at the dress in the mirror. It was a gorgeous gown; there was no doubt. Feeling ready for their opinion, I turned around to face the peanut gallery. “What do you think?” My mother was quick to gush over the skirt. Bo Rim and Yuri both raved over the shiny beading on the bodice. Mrs. Nam, Jiho’s mother seemed to like it just fine. My eyes fell on Jisung who said nothing. He looked at me, arms crossed and fingers brushing over his bottom lip. “Ji?”

“It’s....nice...”

Struggling not to laugh I replied, “One of the most incredible song writers I know and the only thing he has to say is ‘nice’?” My friend chuckled and his stare raked over the fabric before looking back up at my face.

“It’s not you. You don’t look like you. You look like some frilly puffy marshmallow girl.”

From anyone else the comment would offend but all I could do was laugh. “He’s right this is definitely not me.” Nodding the consultant ushered me back into the dressing room. Five dresses later, nothing felt right and I was beginning to get stressed out. “What do I do, Hyunsoon? Nothing feels right. I’m not feeling those....fireworks.” The beautiful woman looked at me in question. “Sorry, it’s something Jisung and I say to each other. It’s like our wish for the other to find so much happiness that it feels like...actual fireworks.” I explained with a light laugh.

She sat down on the floor with me, moving the short silk robe further over my thigh, a gentle gesture. “Tell me more about your fiancee,” She kept her hand on my knee and rubbed soothing circles on my skin.

“Ummm....well...his name is Nam Jiho. He’s really nice and very very smart. Like holy fuck, he is insanely smart. He spends most of his time at work and he really likes to run as well.”

She looked at me expectantly. “That’s it?” I nodded, a little unsure of what else she wanted me to say. “And you love him?”

“Of course! What kind of a question is that? I’m getting married aren’t I?” Though I smiled, she could tell there was the smallest bit of insecurity. She thought for a minute tapping her fingers softly on my knee.

I felt somewhat lost among the mountains of white fabric scattered about the room. “Okay then! Whose opinion matters the most to you out of everyone you brought with you today?”

“Oh- Jisung. Of course.”

“Tell me about Jisung,”

A hefty sigh left my lips, but a small happy smile soon replaced it. “Jisung is....he’s like....my person you know? Like anytime I need him- even when I don’t need him- he’s always around. We grew up together. He is my everything. I trust him with more than my life. He’s just....Jisung. He is fully himself and unapologetic about it.” Ilaughed recalling thousands and thousands of memories with him. “He is a total asshole. Way too confident. But, he gets really shy sometimes. He’s also very genuine and has the biggest heart. Without Jisung...I wouldn't be who I am today.”

She smiled and pushed herself off the ground. “I will be right back!” Just as she closed the door, Hyunsoon winked over at me and left me alone in the dressing room.

❃

Jisung’s POV

I was beginning to feel restless. Y/n hadn’t come out in at least thirty minutes. My leg was going to bounce off my body at this point. Unable to sit still any longer I pushed myself off the plush couch. It was getting harder and harder to control my heart seeing Y/n walk out in all these gowns knowing she was going to marry another man.

Wandering through the labyrinth-like rows of white frocks, I found myself thinking once again about Y/n. Not bothering to cage my thoughts they ran wild with daydreams of Y/n choosing dresses imagining what I would think of her walking down the aisle. Her smiling at me instead of that asshat, Jiho.

Turning down an obviously dead end, my eyes fell on the mannequin standing in the center of the row. A delicate dress hung on the figure.Tattooed lace around the bodice and down the front of the gown to the hips fading like waves on shore. The back was low and open and my mind filled in the gaps, picturing Y/n’s soft skin laying beneath the fabric. My fingers brushed over the long thin sleeves.

The sound of the a door closing snatched me from the my tantalizing reverie. “Oh- You’re Jisung right?” The woman asked walking closer. I recognized her as the one helping with Y/n’s appointment. I gave her a short nod, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket. “I actually need your help.”

“Anything for Y/n.” The beautiful woman’s brow quirked up and a smile slid onto her painted lips. “I mean....anything...for the bride.”

Her tongue slid over her white teeth. There was so much white around, my head was starting to physically hurt. “Uh huh. Anyway! Y/n basically hates everything not only I have picked, but also everything she’s picked.” I stood waiting for the part where I could possibly help. “She trusts you. She wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

“I’m sorry....I don’t see how-”

“I see you’re looking at dresses. Have you seen one that you like? Maybe....one you would like...on Y/n?” My eyes fell to the floor, glancing over at the mannequin briefly. My quick gaze did not go unnoticed by Y/n’s consultant. “Well...Jisung....don’t you have good taste.” She walked over to dress form and checked the price tag before giving the gown a once over. “Revealing taste too....” She sang with a smirk.

I looked away rubbing the back of my neck, the area feeling very itchy all of a sudden. “I-I- uh...the dress just seems like her. It’s very.....mesmeric. Her.”

“She did say you have a way with words.” Hyunsoon, I think her name was, walked over to one of the racks pushing past dresses until she pulled out one I assumed was in my bestfriend’s size. “Go sit back down! I know she’s going to love this one.”

My head tilted back and I let out a sigh. As much as it pained me, I knew seeing that dress on Y/n and knowing it was ‘the one’ would be it for me. I’d snap and in front of all her family, soon to be and current, I’d confess how much I loved her and that I didn’t want her to marry that dick. I’d ruin what would be her perfect happy ending. Well...in her words....her ‘Moderatley-Happy-Fiancially-Stable Ending’.

“Actually...I’m gonna head out. I know she’s gonna love it. Tell her I hope she gets her fireworks.”

Willinging myself to start moving, I walked past Hyunsoon and towards the door, only stopping once. A glimpse. I caught only a glimpse. The door of Y/n’s dressing room opened and I saw the bright smile on her lips as she looked at the dress being brought to her. “That’s your last look, Han.” I mumbled under my breath. “Now turn around and walk out.”

With every ounce of willpower left in my body, I did.

❃

The TV droned in my rundown apartment. My two closest friends, outside the one I was deeply in love with, were half drunkenly lounged in my tiny living room. I scowled at the television, taking another drink from the bottle in my hand.

“Dude- slow down. That’s like your sixth drink.” The eldest chided, tossing a balled up fast food wrapper at my head.

Ignoring the fellow musician’s advice, I chugged the rest of the beer shooting Chan a look. “Chan let him be. You know what tomorrow is.” Changbin sighed. Turning, I found him hanging off an armchair upside down, scrolling through his phone. It was silent for a while until the inverted boy spoke up again. “I still don’t get why she’s marrying that douchebag.”

Knowing where this conversation was going I escaped to the kitchen, preoccupying myself with grabbing another beer from the fridge. the other two boys paid me no mind and continued the discussion as if I was invisible. Chan’s attention turned back to me as I plopped down next to him on the dusty old couch. “Han, didn’t you say you caught the guy cheating like....multiple times....”

It was true. I had caught Jiho not once, not twice, not even three times, but four times I had got him with other women. Jiho liked to go out to clubs. The scumbag would pretend that he was working late so Y/n would be none the wiser, then he would stay out until three in the morning drinking and getting with random girls he met. The bastard didn’t even have the decency to frequent establishments he knew I wouldn’t be at. My music career was in the dumps lately and I had resorted to DJ-ing at downtown clubs.

That fucking asshole even had the audacity to flirt with other girl while Y/n was around. She had invited me out with the two of them for drinks after a promotion at work. The second she leaves for the bathroom Jiho starts making moves on the waitress. Right in front of me.

“Yeah....well, there’s nothing I can do about it.” On multiple occasions I had tried to tell Y/n about her terrible fiancee. Every time I tried, all I could see was the look of hope on her face. the look that practically begged for me to tell her that Jiho and I were finally getting along. And....I couldn’t do it. I could never do it.

“Boo hoo. Horton hears a bitch ass liar!” Changbin slurred from his awkward position.

“What?”

“That is quite possibly the biggest lie you have ever told.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Chan yanked the beer out of my grip and handed me a water bottle instead. “Oh and what do you suppose I do then?” I managed to get the words out before Chan less than gently shoved the water in my face.

The man beside me sighed and shifted to face me fully. “You love Y/n. Yes or No?”

“Yes.”

“She needs to know that.” I shook my head. No, she did not need to know that. I was not going to be the reason Y/n ruined her chance at a good life. Looking around my apartment I saw nothing but disappointment. Most months it was hard to make rent and I could barely afford to do anything but the bare necessities. She deserved better than what I could give her. “We all know Y/n is only settling. This is definitely not the fairytale ending she always talked about.”

“Chan, there’s no such thing as fairytales. Even Y/n knows that.” Inwardly, I grimaced at my own words. Had Y/n been around to hear those words I would have been slapped upside the head.

“How do you know that? Do you have proof?” Changbin mused, a drunk smile on his face. “Let’s say this is a fairytale. You and Y/n have to be the main characters! The prince and the princess always get to together in the end! Duhhh!”

Even in my sour and depressed mood it was easy to laugh as Changbin slid off the armchair and landed on his head. “He does have a point, Ji.” Chan said, listing his head back onto the couch. Two of his fingers pushed the bottom of the bottle back up towards my face. “You’re the leading man in your own life, dude. Stop acting like the best friend. If you want her go get her.”

My thumb brushed over the grooves in the plastic . The alcohol was quickly clearing out of my system. A numbness filled my body as I contemplated the options put in front of me. Maybe it was time for me to be selfish. Maybe it was time for me to get what I wanted.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself off the sofa and headed for the door.

❃

Thirteen hours. Thirteen hours before my best friend’s wedding and I was walking to her house at two in the morning to confess my feelings for her. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mumbled under my breath. The view of her parents house was growing closer as I walked down the street. Y/n told me earlier in the week she would be staying there the night before the big day.

Just like so many nights in our teen-dom, a familiar yellow glow from Y/n’s bedroom window illuminated the street below her house. Through the second story window I could see glimpses of movement. For a moment I just stood, doubting all the decisions I made in the last twenty minutes. I could chicken out here. Turn around and go home. She would never know.

Just as I was about to turn around, I was caught in daze by the image in the window. Y/n stepped into view, radient like a new morning. From the little I could see from the street, she was wearing the dress I had picked from the boutique. Her hair was messily pushed back and strands fell in front of her eyes. The glint of the standing mirror flashed across from where she stood. Her beautiful E/c eyes trained on her reflection.

She was breathtaking. My chest got tight just looking at her and a cold sweat was born on my palms. I watched as she rung her hands together, nervously twisting the rings on her fingers; a habit we both shared. Y/n let out a shaky breath before returning her gaze to the looking glass, this time with a smile.

Her delicate fingers reached up and brushed her cheek before they stretched out as if to shake some invisible person’s hand. Her smile grew brighter as she talked to this imaginary person. She laughed and looked truly the happiest I had seen her in a long time.

My eyes fell to the road, scuffing my shoe on the asphalt. She was happy. No matter how badly I wanted her.....there was no way I was going to take that away from her. Y/n’s happiness mattered more than mine. I could find comfort in the knowledge that she would be happy. That she would be taken care of. That she got everything she deserved. Everything I could never give her.

Turning on my heel, the cold air and truth bleeding me sober, I walked back into the city away from my happy ending.

❃

Y/n’s POV

Thirteen hours. Thirteen hours before my wedding and I was questioning everything for absolutely no reason. The rest of my family was long asleep. Yet, here I sat in my wedding dress feeling like everything I was doing, every decision I made.....was wrong. I felt like crying for no reason, my throat refusing to be anything but tight.

Coming to my feet, I smoothed out the gorgeous gown and walked with no purpose until I found myself staring at the mirror on the far side of the room. The girl on the other side of the glass looked like a bride. Why wasn’t I happy with that?

Standing up tall like my mother lectured many times in the past few days, I pursed my lips and put on a pained smile. “Hi, I’m Mrs. Nam Jiho,” The name felt unclean coming from my lips. Tilting my head, I rubbed my face before staring back at my reflection. I sighed pushing back the feeling of tears begging to spill over.

“It’s nice to meet you, my name is Nam Y/n.” I shivered, swallowing the last bit of moisture in my mouth. “Nam....Y/n.....Y/n Nam....Mrs.Nam Y/n.” The more I tried to look at the person who I would become the more I felt like crying. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Mrs. Nam Y/n....” Before I could finish the words I broke into tears. Loud sobs filled my room and all I could do was stare at the hollow shell reflected in my mirror.

My heart ached. The air in the room around me felt heavy, like a weight on my shoulders, pushing me down into the ground. Pushing past the lump in my throat, my eyes returned to the mirror, this time fixating on the photos framing the glass. Pictures of my friends and family.

My heart lifted seeing a photo of Jisung and me. It was an old picture from highschool, probably taken on one of those disposable cameras you could get at corner stores. His school uniform was slightly too big for his then thin frame. My skirt was just a little too long and my shoes were never quite the right size. We were seated on the bleachers outside the school. Jisung sat on the row above me and let me rest between his legs. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders, as he leaned around to kiss my cheek. I was caught in the middle of a laugh and Jisung looked so happy right next to me.

I smiled remembering the day from the printed memory. A friend we both had lost touch with had taken the photo while we weren’t looking. We then got teased for days afterwards. My fingers brushed over the delicate fabric of the dress. The dress that Jisung had chosen. Jisung. Almost every happy moment of my life....was tied to Jisung. Taking a step forward, I looked back in the mirror. Sniffing away the tears, I smiled.

“I’m please to meet you....I’m Mrs. Han Jisung,”

The smile on my face grew bigger and my heart swelled. Reaching up I brushed away the tears that spilled over before holding my hand as if meeting one of the guests at my wedding. “Jisung and I are so pleased you could come to our wedding,”

The feeling in my chest had me wishing to cry all over again but for a different reason. I wanted to jump and scream at the top of my lungs the name ‘Han Y/n’. The more I said it, the more I felt like a teenager again.

All I could think about was Jisung. His dark hair, dyed one too many times, leaving it slightly damaged but somehow still soft. His big, round, doe eyes. The way he told the stupidest jokes. His voice- not just when he sang, but even simply speaking his voice was one of my favorite sounds. Pressing my hands to my cheeks, I pulled away finding them hot.

“Fuck...I’m in love with Jisung.”

❃

“Okay, I need everyone to give me some fucking space!” I shouted, effectively silencing my dressing room. One by one, my maid of honor ushered the ladies out. I let slip one time that I am having second thoughts and all hell breaks loose.

Sitting at the vanity, my head fell into my hands. I was dejected. Confused. And obviously sitting with a pretty big headache. I hadn’t heard from Jisung since the dress appointment and he didn’t answer any of my texts this morning. It was like he was avoiding me. Eyeing the champagne on table I contemplated drinking the whole damn bottle then just going through with the event. As much as I wanted to get married, I didn’t want to do it to someone I didn’t love.

Standing up, I manuevered the champagne filled vessel away from my body and popped it, the sound letting loose a satisfying echo. The bubbly liquid filled the glass flute I picked up. My first sip was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“I told you guys I needed space! Just fuck off!”

Downing the glass, I turned to pour another one. Drunk ceremony was looking like my best option right about now. The click of the dressing room door opening caused my ears to prick up. “I said fuck off-”

“That’s not very nice language coming from the bride.”

Jisung stood in the doorway, hesitant smile on his face. His hair was almost styled, pieces still falling loose over his forehead. A black blazer hung over an untucked slightly wrinkled white dress shirt. His slender hands were shoved in the pockets of his blue jeans.

“Coming from you that’s rich,” He watched me drink in his appearance. “Jeans, Ji? You come to my wedding in jeans and Doc Martens?”

My best friend rubbed the back of his neck, eyes trained on the carpeted floor. “To be honest....I wasn’t sure I was coming at all.”

I blinked, trying to process the words just said to me. My best friend....the man I loved more than anything in the world...said he almost didn’t come to my wedding. “Excuse me?”

“Y/n....we need to talk....”

My chest tightened in anticipation as I watched Jisung close the door. He stayed on the opposite side of the room seemingly nervous or afraid to even look my way. A hint of a smile appeared as I watched Jisung anxiously turn the silver rings around his fingers. “Ji, have you been avoiding me...”

Instead of answering, the man’s eyes fell to the bottle on the vanity. He motioned to it, wordlessly asking for a glass. Stepping away, I allowed him enough room to cross and pour a glass for himself. He downed the flute like a shot almost making me laugh at the similarity between us. “Didn’t you want to get married outside? In a forest if I remember correctly?”

“Don’t change the subject, Jisung.”

“I’m not.” For the first time I felt like Jisung really looked at me. His eyes seemed to soften. Before I could once again appreciate how beguiling his eyes were, they retreated back to their place on the floor. “Y/n....this isn’t you. You deserve a fairytale ending. Your fairytale ending. You don’t deserve a shotgun wedding in some church with nobody watching just waiting for the hour de vours to be passed out.”

“I’m not pregnant. This isn’t a shotgun-”

“Please just let me finish, Y/n....”

Nodding, I leaned against the vanity and watched my friend’s hands brushed through his dark locks. The silver hanging from his ears glinted in the bright fluorescent lighting. “Y/n...Don’t....don’t get married.” He seemed encouraged by my reaction, or lack thereof. “I think about you a little more than I should. A lot more actually. For a long time. Y/n/n, I’ve been in love with you since grade school.”

A familiar lump began to form in my throat and a pit formed in my stomach. Gaining confidence, Jisung’s eyes met mine. “It’s been killing me...seeing you with that asshole. I know you’re happy. I know that you’re better off with him. He can give you everything that I can’t, because you deserve to have a nice house. You deserve to be spoiled with gifts and trips. You deserve to not come home every night and worry whether the rent has been paid.” Jisung stopped and stared at the empty glass in his hands.

“You always talked about fairytales when we were little. Well...my fairytale would just be us. No magic. No princes and princesses. Cause you’re enough for me. More than enough. Y/n, you’re it for me. You’re my fairytale.”

His eyes widened seeing a single tear rolling down my cheek. Before continuing Jisung watched me with shaking hands carefully set the glass flute on the vanity behind me.

“I- I want you to be happy. If you’re happy with Jiho then I will go out into that church and clap when you get hitched. Because, that's what friends fucking do and that I can give you. But...if there is any chance....any part of you...that loves me at all....even a little bit....”

He gulped, fingers ferociously twisting the rings on his right hand. Not many would believe it, but Jisung was shy. Introverted. It was rare to see him like this. Jisung wasn’t afraid or nervous, but more timid or demure. I could almost see his heart physically stop beating as I opened my mouth to speak.

“I’m not happy, Ji.” He blinked, big, brown, doe eyes trying to understand what I meant. “I want to be. But, I can’t be happy with someone I don’t love. I don’t care about the money or the gifts. I just.....want my fireworks. I think you can understand that more than anyone.”

Jisung nodded dejectedly, shoving his hands into the pockets of the blazer that seemed to be holding itself together with only a few threads. He seemed to not understand what I was saying. “I do....understand- I mean. That’s all I want for you. If you can’t be happy with Jiho or me then-”

“Fuck, Ji. You really are dense aren’t you?”

“What?”

Reaching forward, I twisted the collar of Jisung’s slightly unbuttoned shirt and pulled him closer. Before our lips even touched I could feel electricity in the air, sparking and making room hotter. Finally feeling my lips against his sent my stomach on a rollercoaster; twisting, turning, loop de loops, and free falls giving me the greatest feeling spreading to the rest of my body.

The feeling of my fingers sliding up his neck, must have brought Jisung out of whatever shock induced daze he was in. Like second nature his arms wrapped around me, cool hands pressing into the bare skin of my back. There was nothing but fire in my stomach as Jisung dragged his lips over mine at a painstakingly slow pace. The man smiled feeling me pull and tangle my fingers in his soft dark tresses.

“Fireworks?” I asked, pulling away with my bottom lip snagged between my teeth.

“Millions.” Jisung’s thumb brushed over my cheek before he leaned back in capturing my lips in another death defying kiss. “Did you drive here? I took the train.” He mumbled between kisses.

I laughed feeling happier than any moment before in my life. “My car is out back. You’re driving.”

Opening my eyes, I saw that signature smirk my best friend was famous for. For the first time I knew why my insides did flips when it was directed at me. Lacing his fingers with mine he dragged me from the dressing room and led me through the halls as fast as we could run with one of us in a wedding dress. As we reached the car, slamming the doors shut, the bells in the chapel started to ring making the both of us grin. Jisung leaned over, fastening my seatbelt before kissing my lips like they were his only source of air.

“You make quite the gorgeous runaway bride,”

❃

Masterlist

256 notes · View notes

jabbagabba · 4 years

Text

La La Land

Read Prologue, One

Warning ⚠️

Triggering subjects: disassociation, manipulation, mind control, gaslighting (READ AT OWN RISK)

Wandavision: Spoilers (up to episode 7, just to be safe) cheesy sitcom talk, the fifties, the ‘dinner table’ scene, The nickname ‘kiddo’

Oh, Kiddo

“Uh oh.” You didn’t need to check the recipe book to know that cookies weren’t suppose to make smoke invade the inside of the oven.

“Still better then the last batch.” Wanda said, a small cough falling from her mouth as you tipped the burnt treats into a small bin under the counter.

The sight of the now empty tray made you sigh sadly, the burnt pieces of dough was going to take decades to scrub off!

“I’m sorry about the tray.” You let it drop into the sink. “I promise, as soon as mom comes back, I’ll get you a new one.”

Wanda scoffed playfully, a point of her finger making the tray levitate in front of her. “Don’t be silly, kiddo!” You watched in awe as it turned back to its shiny silver. “I have an amazing cleaner.” You both giggle.

“Well I should at least do the dishes myself.” The sight of Wanda trying to argue made you hold your hand up in silent protest “No, no. You aren’t the only one who has hands.”

“You wash, I dry?” The perfect compromise.

The kitchen fell into peaceful silence except for the bubbly soap that filled the sink. It was the perfect start of a new day (maybe not for the oven) and you couldn’t help smile at the warmth that swelled through you.

“Busy hands make the heart grow fonder” Your mother’s words echoed inside of you as you finished the final dish.

The thought didn’t stay for long before the sound of a plate breaking made you jump, turning quickly as it hit the floor.

“My wife and her flying sources.” Vision quipped as the last of the shattered plate fell off his shoulder, dressed in a respectable suit and dress shoes.

“My husband and his indestructible head.” Wanda replied with a teasing smile. The perfect couple was a sight to behold as you grabbed the glass from the air above her and placed it back in the cuboard.

“Aren’t we a fine pair?” Vision gave his a wife a small kiss on the head and turned to you with a small smile. “Good morning, Kiddo.” You greeted him, drying your hands on the skirt of your dress. “I’m starting to think you came with the house.” Wanda chuckled.

“Mom will be back soon, I promise, the house will be teenage free before you know it.”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” He lets the newspaper in his hand slide across the countertop. “I’m only teasing.”

“What do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice, and black coffee?” Wanda’s words made your mouth water, it felt as though you hadn’t eaten in days and a full breakfast was just what you needed.

“I say. ‘Oh, I don’t eat food.’” He smiled.

“Well, that explains the empty refrigerator.” Her words confused you. There wasn’t even the carton of milk you were sure was there earl-

“Wanda?” Vision’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, she simply hummed in question.

“Is there something special about today?”

“Well, I know the apron is a bit much, dear, but I am doing my best to blend in.” You watch as she crosses the kitchen.

“No, no, there on the calander. Someone’s drawn a little heart right above today’s date.” He lets his chin rest on her head while you move closer to see. Sure enough, there it was.

“Oh, yes.” Wanda said with tense shoulders. “The heart.” She looked over at you for some guidance, the confused look she saw didn’t help calm her nerves. “Well, don’t tell me you have forgotten, Vis.” She turned in his arms with a look of accusation and hands laid on her hips.

“Forgotten?” He scoffed. “Oh, Wanda, I’m incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That’s not an exaggeration. In fact, I’m incapable of exaggeration.”

“Well, then tell me what’s so important about today’s date.”

You had to stifle a laugh when you looked at him; mouth blown out like a fish and eyes wide, a stern look from Wanda made you cover it with a cough.

“What was the question again?” Vision turned quickly. “Oh, well. Perhaps, you’ve forgotten yourself.”

“Me? Heavens, no. I’ve been so looking forward to it.” You let Vision pass you, choosing to keep to yourself and take a sit at the table.

“As have I.” He said proudly with arms folded. “Today we are celebrating...”

Why were you so hungry?

“You bet we are...”

Why were you always, so hungry?

“It’s the first time we....have ever celebrated this occasion before.”

“It’s a.... special day!”

Something doesn’t feel right

“Perhaps an evening... of great significance...”

Can you feel her clawing?

“Kiddo?” Her voice makes you jump in your seat, letting out a small hiss from hitting your knee underneath the table. “You alright?”

“I...” Silly you, always dozing off. “I’m just peachy keen, Wanda!” A series of knocks on the door makes her pause and you’re quick to stand. “I’ll get it!”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that...” She trailed behind you, a polite smile on her face as you open the door.

You barley grab the large plant that’s shoved in your face, the woman breezing past you with her hand out.

“Hello. dear, I’m Agnes. Your neighbour to the right.” Wanda lets out a awkward laugh but takes her hand anyway. “My right, not yours.” She’s loud and very, very talkative. “Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother in-law was in town, so I wasn’t.”

You pull the plant away from you with a huff. Wanda gives you an apologetic look, grabbing it from your hands, both of you watching as Agnes makes her way through.

“So, what’s your name? Where are you from, and most importantly, how’s your bridge game, hon?”

Very talkative indeed.

Wanda laughs as she crosses the room -leaving you to close the door - and sent Agnes a friendly smile.

“I’m Wanda.” She gestures to you over the woman’s shoulder. “And we call her ‘Kiddo’.”

“Easier that way.” You add as you smooth out your skirt once more, choosing to sit on the edge of the couch. Agnes turns to you with a smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear!” You wave her off with another friendly smile. “Wanda, Kiddo, lovely names for two lovely ladies.” You all share a small giggle.

“Golly.” Agnes’ eyes scan the room. “You settled in fast! Did you use a moving company?”

“I sure did.” You wanted nothing but to rip off that stupidly large bow off that equally obnoxious plant, but you didn’t want to be rude. “Those boxes don’t move themselves.” Agnes chuckled and you were itching to move it from the table Wanda placed it on.

“So what’s a single gal like you doing rattling around this big house? With a daughter no less.” You and Wanda were quick to explain.

“I’m not her daughter.” You move back as her dress skirt fills your vision, looking over at Wanda. “Just visiting.”

“I’m married.” She added with a gleeful shine in her eyes.

“Oh, I don’t see a ring.”

“Well, I assure you I’m married.” She covers her hand with the other. “To a man. A human one and tall.”

Agnes was a very suffocating presence; her dress bold and checker patterned, your polka dots looked rather bland compared to it and when she took a seat next to you - practically in your lap at one point of readjusting - you had never felt so small.

“As a matter of fact, he’ll be home later tonight for a special occasion. Just the two of us.”

“Oh, is it someone’s birthday?”

“Not a birthday.”

“Well today isn’t a holiday, is it?”

Were there any holidays in March? You - like most days - were left completely blank.

“No, it’s not a holiday...” Wanda’s hands fidget, you couldn’t help but join, opting to pick at a thread on your sleeve.

Today was.... hmm, what was today? You tried to remember if Vision or Wanda spoke of anything special, but nothing really stood out from the crowd.

“An anniversary then?”

“Ye... yes!” The relief on her face was almost comical. “Yes! It’s our anniversary!” Agnes couldn’t hide her excitement, grabbing your hand mid pull of the thread and held another one for Wanda to take.

“Oh, how marvellous.” She turned forward, putting both of your hands in her lap as Wanda joined on the couch. “How many years?”

“Well, it feels like we’ve always been together.”

“Lucky gal.” Agnes shook your hand with a smile. “Isn’t it just, having such a wonderful influence like that?” Wanda blushed. “The only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer named ‘June 2nd’. “ At least she was entertaining, right? “So, what do you have planned?”

“How do you mean?”

“For your special night. A young thing like you doesn’t have to do much, but it’s still nice to set the scene.” You and Wanda shared a glance as Agnes turned once more. “Say, I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article -“ She gave you both a playful slap on the thigh as she stood. “- called ‘How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband,’ and let me tell you, what Ralph could really use is, ‘How To Goose Your Wife So You Don’t Lose Your Wife’.”

Maybe you were just a bad judge of character or you were simply just insecure, but Agnes, to her credit, had quickly found a way to pull on your hearstrings in a perfect way.

Or maybe she was just very funny.

“Hang on. I’ll go grab it and we can start planning.” She turned to you before leaving and pointed a perfectly manicured finger. “Now, I hope you don’t have plans, Kiddo! Suducing a man is a lesson no school could teach you, Though a pretty gal like you shouldn’t need a whole lot.” She laughed and you couldn’t help but feel the warm rush to your cheeks at the compliment. “Oh, this is gonna be a gas!”

With a final giggle and smile, Agnes was gone. You moved closer to Wanda as she let out a happy sigh.

“Before she comes back,” She turns to you fully. “- can I throw that horrid plant out?”

———

“-and you don’t have a song? Nothing special you played at your weddding?” Agnes asked, the magazine sitting on her lap.

“No, nothing special.” That seemed to be the go to answer for Wanda; no song, no inside joke and not even a favourite date. Maybe that was the new era of marriage?

“I’ll just loan you some records then.” Agnes said before pointing to the notepad in your hand. “Mark that off the list, Kiddo.” You nodded and did just that. “What are we up to?”

“We’ve got wardrobe, music and...” God, you had horrible handwriting. “Oh, decor!” Agnes let out a happy hum and looked back at the article.

“Hmm... oh, what about seduction techniques?”

“Oh, I have those.” The loud chuckle made Wanda frown, suddenly unsure.

Agnes was really good at that.

“Of course, you do.”

“Just out of curiosity, what does it say?” You both leaned in, the chair you were sitting on unfortunately made it impossible to see over her shoulder.

“That you should stumble when you walk into a room so he can catch you. It’s romantic.”

“Any other tricks?”

“You could point out that the death rate of single men is twice that of married men.” She suggested with a smirk.

“Now, that’s romantic.” The shared laughter is quick to die down when the phone rings. “Oh.” Agnes hands you a glass of apple cider, a small enough glass to blur the moral line of underage drinking, and raised hers with a grin.

“Drink up, dear.”

“Vision residents.” Wanda said politely over the phone, the voice of her husband making her grin. “Vision, sweetheart.” You had to stop yourself from grimacing at the bitterness of the drink, not a hint of apple was in it. Alcohol was truely disgusting.

“Don’t worry, dear. I have everything under control.” She turned towards you both with a knowing smile, debating whether or not to wrap the cord around her fingers like the giddy school girl she felt like.

Agnes took another sip and clicked her tongue. “Oh! I knew you looked familiar.” She said, adverting you attention. “You’re Lori’s girl, aren’t you?” You couldn’t explain why your stomach dropped. “Lovely woman, real smart cookie. Didn’t she want to be an actress or a.... hmm, oh....um -“

“A journalist.” The bitterness of the cider in that moment seemed like heaven, and you downed the rest in one go. Agnes giggled and nodded.

“That’s right, a journalist, very modern.” The conversation died after that, instead filled with tonight’s plan for Wanda. But even when you laughed and giggled along, deciding which record of Agnes’ to put on, that pit of dread remained.

You just wanted to know why.

———

So maybe baking wasn’t your strong suit, or even a decent hobby, but you did know how to set a mood. The candlight that filled the living room and the smell of vanilla (Agnes had enough of it to make you dizzy) was just the right amount of sweetness and romance.

“All done!” You call with a proud smile on your face. You turned as Wanda peaked her head out from the kitchen door.

“Aw, Kiddo, what would I do without you?” She had her hair curled to perfection, and makeup that made her look like a porcelain doll. She was the perfect wife and you had to admit, Agnes was right about you taking notes. “Are you sure you’ll get home okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” You grab your coat from the dining chair and give her a final smile. “Have fun.” She disappears back in the kitchen and you try to hide the knowing smirk on your face as you hear the front door. “I know, I know, I’ll be gone in two min-“

“You never told me you had kids.” A male voice, one you had never heard before, interrupted you. Your coat buttons were long forgotten as the couple strolled in; Vision looking just as horrified and confused as you.

“I... uh.”

“I didn’t know you were joining us for dinner, Kiddo.” Vision said with a nervous laugh. “Mr. Hart, this is my...”

“Cousin. Just flew in.” You can’t stop your hands from fidgeting as Vision nods.

“Yes! Yes, my cousin, Kiddo.”

“You’re name is ‘Kiddo’?” Mr. Hart is hostile, and his wife has to slap his shoulder when he glares at you.

“Oh stop it, it’s a lovely name.” She steps from behind her husband and lets out a small gasp. “Oh, how every atmospheric.” You forced a polite smile, blowing out one of the candles when she turns.

“What’s going on here, Vision? You blow a fuse?”

“Why don’t you take a seat...” You are quick to grab onto Vision’s hand and pull towards you with a smile. “And we’ll go and fetch the lady of the house.” Vision almost trips on the way to the kitchen behind you, you were a lot stronger then you looked.

“What’s going on?” This was not at all what you thought was going to happen. Maybe you had too much cider? “Where is she?” Vision didn’t wait for you to answer, already out of the kitchen before you could even think of a answer. “Wanda!” She was only there a moment ago.

“Vision.” Her smile fades to horror and she’s quick to move her hands away from Mr. Hart. “Oh! Oh!” She looks back and fourth from Vision and the Harts. When she caught glimpse of you, she nearly fainted, covering her chest as her cheeks bloomed a bright red.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Well, what is... yeah, what is the meaning of...” His stammering wasn’t helping, at all, to calm anyone’s confusion. “Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it.... and the meaning of it is that this is the traditional Sokovian greeting of hospitality.” Wanda nodded, quickly making her way over as Vision covered her eyes. “Guess who?”

“Is that my host behind me?” She faked a laugh and you chose to find interest in your shoes.

“It certainly is.”

“Lovely to make you acquaintance.”

“Yes!” You wished the floor would suck you down to a hole in the ground, the awkwardness almost suffocating. “See, I forgot to tell you my wife is from Europe.” You look up with a grin as Vision put a hand on your shoulder. “And... so is my cousin.”

“Oh, how exotic!” Mrs. Hart said with a grin of her own, how on earth did they buy that?

“We don’t break bread with Bolsheviks.” Her husband grumbled.

“Oh, hush, Arthur!” She slapped his chest playfully with a chuckle. “Have you no culture at all ? And that dress!”

“Yes! It’s... “ Vision can’t help but take a double take at his wife’s appearance. “It’s so... Sokovian, Is what it is! Yes!”

“Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?” Wanda was light and fast on her feet, making sure to pull the fabric from a lamp before going to the kitchen.

“Oh, Yes!” Vision gestures to the candles and follows his wife.

You turn to the couple, with the brightest smile you can muster.

“Please.” You say with arms wide. “Take a seat, make yourselves comfortable.” The minute they reach the couch and sit, you get to work on the candles. You only get five done before Vision barrels through the door.

“Can you help Wanda? She’s just... “ Mrs. Hart glances over her shoulder with an eyebrow raised. “- finishing dinner.”

You are quick to excuse yourself.

———

“Oh, where is she?” Wanda tightens her apron for the third time, eyes glued to the door. She had changed from the silk, now wearing a modest evening dress.

“Oh, thank heavens!” Agnes had barley even walked past the window and Wanda, wasting no time, opened the back door wide. “Oh, Agnes! You’re a life-saver.”

“What kind of housewife would I be if I didn’t have a gourmet meal for five just lying about the place?” Both you and Wanda grab for the various tins and trays, trying to save the poor woman’s arms. “Not that Ralph ever wants to eat anything but baked beans which explains a lot about his personal hygiene, mind you.”

“I can take that.” You weren’t expecting her to drop the large pot so carelessly, not being able to catch it in time as it hit your foot with loud bang on the floor. “Ow.”

“Oh, my!” Agnes dropped to her knees, wiping off your shoe and picking up the pot and lid. “Butter fingers.” You chuckle and wave it off.

“It’s okay.” She gives you a bright smile and placing everything properly on the bench.

“- sure she’s absolutely fine in there!” The sound of Vision’s voice booms through the kitchen, a warning that made you both flustered.

“Oh, thank you, Agnes. I think we’ve got it covered from here.” Wanda said, placing her hands on the woman’s back and pushing gently.

“Are you sure dear?” Agnes asked, getting a small “mhmm” back from her. “Many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip.”

“You’re so naughty.” Wanda scolds playfully, you were kept busy with unpacking several vegetables from her wicker basket.

“Oh, shall I pre-heat the oven then, dear?” The witch was quick to steer her around from it as you moved out of the way.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Oh, alright then. Well I know you’re in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap.” Agnes made sure to snap her fingers, always one for the theatrics. “Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start.” She moved back towards the counter, Wanda letting out a breath as she followed. “Chicken à la king with twice-cooked new potatos for your second course.” She gave you a pat as she passed you. “And steak Diane and mint jellies for your main.”

Wanda had to move back as Agnes turned once more, finger inches from her face. “Do you set you own jellies, dear?” You both nod. “Good girls.” Wanda grabs her waist again and pushed but as she inches from the outside, she calls out to you. “Recipe cards are on the counter.”

Wanda closes the door, hands up as you read one of the cards.

“So, I guess we should start with-“

“No time, Kiddo.” With a flick of her wrist; every cuboard opened and you had to duck your head down to advoid getting hit with a frying pan. “Sorry.”

The kitchen quickly was in complete chaos; the smell of various veggies and seasonings overwhelmed your senses, and while you tried desperately to grab a wooden spoon from the air to stir, the kitchen bar devider opened.

Yeah, take out the papers and the trash, or you won’t get no spending cash

You and Wanda both watched in a mix of confusion and fear, apparently Vision could sing. You reached up on your toes once more and pulled the spoon down with a satisfied grin.

If You don’t scrub the kitchen floor, you ain’t gonna rock and roll no more

Oh, right. Mrs. Hart was inches away from a stressed out witch and her teenage sidekick surrounding by levitating kitchen supplies.

Time to close the shutters.

Yakety yak! Don’t talk back

You closed them with a sharp slam.

———

The past ten minutes had to be on the list of “worst moments ever” of your life, the world felt a little too off center and you had to remind yourself that breathing wasn’t just a personal choice. Wanda wasn’t doing too great either; the chicken went from borderline ash to newly laid eggs, it was starting to feel a little too warm in here. If you weren’t panicking so much, you might have remembered that the large coat you wore that had wool lining was easily removable.

“How’s the potatos, Kiddo?” Wanda turned to you with a frown at your apparence; you were covered in flour and unmoving from the corner, bowl in hand and eyes shinny.

“Am I moving?” You ask.

“No.” She gently grabs the bowl from your hands, grimacing at the mush inside and pulling you to the table. “Why don’t you have a seat? Hmm, take a few deep breaths and just re- oh no!” It was too late to save the cream from spilling on the floor.

Wanda almost wanted to join you at the table.

“Oh, what was I supposed to do next? What was the main course again?” She let the cards float around her, hands quickly turning them.”it was... steak.” Wrong card. “No. Steak...steak Diane!”

“Yes?!” You manage to look over at the closed blinds, Vision’s voice following again soon after. “I’m just coming... Fred.”

Wanda - after taking her own advice - had finally managed to put the kitchen back in order, all pots and pans back perfectly in their cupboards. You were finally calming down, able take a minute to process as she floated the lobster to the pot of boiling water.

But both of you felt the familiar panic burn through your veins when someone came rushing in from the living room, Wanda letting out a startled gasp and throwing the meat out the window. It was only after the window slammed shut that you realised it was just Vision.

“How can I be of assistance?” He asked with huff. Funny, you wouldn’t think a robot would need to take a breather.

“Well, the chicken is no longer a chicken and the lobsters just flew the coop so the steak is the last man standing.” Wanda replied, grabbing the recipe card from the counter. “It says here I can cut down the prep time with a meat tenderizer.”

“Excellent plan. Where’s the tenderizer?”

“I’m looking at him.” He gingerly took the mallet with a small “ah” and was forced to look up when the divider opened once more.

“Hoo-hoo in there!” Mrs. Hart’s head popped in and Wanda was quick to move, almost ruining the poor woman’s curls when she closed it.

“Hoo-hoo back to you!” She pulls at the strings of her apron with a sigh. “Finish the meat, find the lobsters.” She turned to you. “Lose the coat, Kiddo.” Her apron is pulled from her hips and Vision barley catches it. “We’ll be right back.”

You stand, pulling off the emerald green coat. One look at your dress and Wanda lets out a gasp.

“Can’t go out like that.” She grabbed the coat from you and folded it on your chair, the dress was covered and she had hoped that the coat would have been an effective shield.

“I can go home and change.” You say with a wipe of your cheek. Wanda stops you from moving.

“No, allow me.” She clicks her fingers and - with a dramatic puff of smoke - your old dress is replaced with a beautiful turquoise one, white lining on the collar and floral skirt to match. It was gorgeous. “Perfection. Now, lets go.”

You give a quick “sorry” at the door, startling Mrs. Hart as you trail behind your frazzled friend.

“I hope you’re hungry.” She said with a smile.

“Starved, is more like it.” Mr. Hart replied as he pushed off the couch, a frown permanently placed on his face.

“My head is starting to feel woozy.” A low growl from your stomach seemed to agree with Mrs. Hart, luckily a loud bang from the kitchen covered the sound.

“Were either of you aware that married men are killing single men at an alarming rate?” Wanda’s hands never stopped moving, and the nervous chuckle only made Mr. Hart more frustrated.

“What are you going on about?” Another loud bang made you all jump and you had to stop yourself from cursing. “And what’s going on in there?” You luckily didn’t have to stop him from moving as Wanda fell ontop of him, his hands catching her by the arms.

The room seemed to spin, things were moving so quickly you could barley keep up. Wanda was still in the man’s arms when a loud knocking filled the room, you were sure you were going to faint.

“Who could that be?” Wanda practically ran to the door, happy for the distraction and Vision was quick on her heels. Mrs. Hart pulled at your sleeve, a kind smile on her face.

“Are you alright, dear?”

“I... uh,” The words got lost in your mouth. Could everyone just calm down for a second? The slam of the door forced you both out of the small moment.

“Who was that?” Her husband asked.

“A salesman”

“Telegram!” Vision felt the glare of Mr. Hart. “A man selling telegrams.”

“Wouldn’t you know it.” Wanda added, hands behind her back. “Good news is more expensive.” You couldn’t hear what Vision said after that, but by the way his wife frowned and pulled her apron off him, it must’ve been yet another problem. She glided past you, the sight of a pineapple behind her back didn’t answer any questions, but you let her go on her way regardless.

“Well.” Vision said, hands on his hips proudly. “I think tonight’s going swimmingly. Anyone for Parcheesi?”

“My head is spinning.” Mrs. Hart replied, feet dragging her to the couch.

“Oh, Mrs. Hart -“ You grabbed her arm, gently helping her down as Vision fanned her face.

“Did you hear that? My wife’s head is spinning. Generally speaking, I don’t like her head to do that.” You could feel the annoyance radiating off him. “You know, I’m beginning to think you’re not management material, Vision.”

“Sir, if you could just wait a few -“ The glare he gave almost made your knees buckle, looking at Vision for help as he continued.

“You know, I had high hopes for you. But from what I’ve seen here tonight, you can barley keep it together. I mean, look around.” He gestured around him with his hands. “There’s all the chaos going on in your household. Now, when are we gonna eat?”

“Dinner is served.”

Oh, thank God.

The table behind you was set to perfection; each plate the perfect distance apart, and each with a set of cutlery and wine glass. You’re stomach was growling and you were quick to move to your seat - the only glass filled with some kind of juice - and gave Wanda a grateful smile.

“Breakfast for dinner? How very-“

“European.” Mrs. Hart interrupted, eyes glued to the table.

“Ohh! Let’s have a toast!” Vision moves to his end of the table, the Harts following as you raise your glass. “To my lovely and talented wife.”

“To our esteemed guests.” Wanda adds with a smile. You all clink your glasses with a small “cheers” and take a sip of the juice. It was sugary sweet, but did nothing to fill your belly. “Well, please eat before it gets cold.”

You don’t have to be told twice; sitting besides Mrs. Hart - who Vision was quick to offer a chair to like a gentleman - and letting your napkin rest on your thighs.

“So,” She said as everyone settled properly in their seats. “Where did you two move from?” She grabbed her napkin. “What brought you here?” You cut a small piece of the sausage and raised it to your mouth. “How long have you been married? And why don’t you have children yet?” Wanda let out a small laugh, so many questions!

“I think what my wife means to say is that we moved from...” You took another bite, warmth filling your body, and it took everything in to not gulp down the whole plate.

“Yes, we moved from...” Wanda’s face was a exact mirror of her husband’s, both struggling with empty memory.

“And we were married...”

You couldn’t stop eating, fork always full of egg and toast, the conversation becoming background noise.

“Yes, yes, we were married in...”

“Well? Moved from where ? Married when?” Mr. Hart’s voice snapped you back, another bite and you swallowed it down with a gulp of juice, eyes now between each end of the table.

“Now, patience, Arthur. They’re setting up their story. Let them tell it.” His wife waved him off with a smile and bite of food. Wanda stumbled once more, her fumbling only causing the tension to rise.

“Yes, what exactly is your story?”

“Oh, just leave the poor kids alone.” You took another sip, gagging as you felt something on your tongue.

“No, really, I mean,” It was slimy and thin, and as you pulled it out with your fingers, confusion filled you at the sight of a brown leaf. “I think it’s a perfectly simple question. Honestly.” It dropped to your plate and you picked up the almost empty glass, the bottom was a dark orange, and the hundreds of little pieces floating in it made you feel sick. “Why did you come here? Why?”

Something’s Wrong

Mr. Hart slammed his hand down on the table, startling you to the point of completey dropping your glass, juice staining the carpet by your feet. You were left helpless as you stared at the man in front of you.

“Damn it, why? Why did you...” The air from his lungs vanishes, face turning red as he chokes.

“Oh, Arthur, stop it.”

Why won’t you move?

“Stop it.”

This doesn’t make sense

“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”

Mr. Hart grips the table, letting out another failed attempt of breath before vanishing under it, still chocking.

“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”

This is wrong, all wrong

“Stop it.”

I want to go home

“Vision, help him.”

And just like that, the world makes sense again.

You let out a shaky laugh as Vision helps the man up from the floor. You take one more bite of food as Mr. Hart checks his watch with a sigh.

“Well, would you look at the time?”

“Yes. We’d better be going.” Mrs. Hart replies, standing as you follow suit, making sure to tuck your chair in.

“Well... are you both alright?” Wanda asks, giving you a small smile as they walk to the door.

“We had such a lovely time.” She turns quickly and wraps her hands around Wanda’s eyes. “This guest is leaving your home.” She laughs.

“Yes, thank you for coming.”

You pay them no mind; body moving passed them on autopilot, you didn’t care to hear them say goodbye, didn’t care when Mr. Hart told Vision about a promotion, or when Wanda offered you the guest bedroom since it was just “too late to walk home alone, you didn’t care.

And when you finally slipped into the covers, eyes shutting as sleep took hold of you, you finally felt at peace.

Your mind was yours, and yours alone for the first time that day, and you wanted nothing more then to wake up under the star-lights in your bedroom.

Tag list (open, just ask)

@white-wolf-buckaroo @y-napotat @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @fruitiseavey

All my stuff is open, and I’m always happy to hear from people so feel free to let me know what ya thought. I always get stuck halfway through writing but I hope it wasn’t too hard to read

Off to the sixties we go

#daughter!reader #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #wandavison x reader #wandavision imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #teen!reader #stark!reader #marvel x y/n #wandavision x you #marvel x you

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megandzane · 3 years

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It’s the way so many women (black women included*) feel that Meghan Markle doesn’t deserve sympathy b/c she’s rich, light skinned (so many comments of “if she had been one shade darker” from bw) and she “acts white” ( like why does the black community associate intelligence and well spokeness with whiteness?) for me. Like yeah she does hav privilege, but ultimately she still got racist treatment. It really doesn’t sit right with me how they continuously lick the royals’ boots blaming Meghan for the terrible treatment she experienced. I really side-eye black women who always use the “had she been one shade darker she wouldn’t have caught his eye” like sis, you’re literally perpetuating the ideal that dark skin isn’t attractive yourself. I also have issues when they bring up M’s past dating history (dating and marrying white men) as more proof that she doesn’t belong to the black community (and why she’s undeserving of empathy for all she suffered b/c “had she married a black man” 🙃) and in the same breath give black men a pass for doing the same. It’s the sexist double standard for me. It doesn’t sit right with me and comes off as jealousy. I’m a firm believer in going where you’re desired and treasured regardless of race. Like ofc with interracial marriages/relationships there’ll be issues but as long as they’re willing to defend you, and do the work to learn, why not? (Didn’t mean for this to sound like a rant but it’s still disheartening seeing the lack of sympathy from fellow black women for Meghan sometimes)

* I’m saying this as a darkskinned black woman

It’s so problematic. I’ve written a lot the same stuff you’re saying. I just wrote about the “one shade darker” comments. I try to refrain from commenting on things regarding the Black community as I’m not Black, and I don’t want to overstep. But I do find those comments ignorant and upsetting, it does perpetuate the idea of dark skin being ugly. A lot of it comes off as insecurity and projection. Colorism is so ugly.

I’ve said it before, and I’m gonna keep saying it. There’s ways to acknowledge Meghan’s light privilege without dismissing her experiences.

And you’re absolutely right about how some people claiming to care about racism will shit on Meghan to kiss royals asses. I’ve also noticed that a lot of these talking points are used by racist white people, who want to erase Meghan’s blackness to be racist to her. I’ve seen all these same things said by hate accounts who are having tantrums about critical race theory. It wild how some of these poc accounts I’ve seen on this website, who are so quick to whitewash Meghan and call her ignorant, are literally running royalist blogs. Whitewashing Meghan and calling her embarrassingly naive / blaming her for her own abuse, is so gross. But the audacity to be doing that while running a royalist account is something else.

I think we all know it would be worse for Meghan if she was dark, there’s never been a question about it. The “could you imagine if she was dark skinned?” Comments are a bit redundant imo, she’s being so mistreated now. Her very light son was called a chimpanzee. Her days old daughter was likened to a Black man that was brutally murdered.

Meghan herself has talked about her light privilege, she’s flat out said on camera that people treat her better because she’s light, but that she’s still treated as “an other”. Her school friends have said white kids called her a poodle because of her hair texture.

I would have a lot less sympathy for Meg if she used her new position in a white space to shit on other poc, she’s never done that. Ever. Not even before all this. There’s no reports of her being racist or problematic.

I might question her choice to join this toxic racist institution, but she’s always championed diversity along the way. Her first solo project spoke volumes. She would’ve had a much easier time with the right wing media if she had chosen to align herself with whiteness, become a “ pick me”, but she didn’t do that. She’s not like the poc who shit on other poc to get a seat at the table. That’s the difference for me.

I actually think a lot of hatred of her came from the fact that she didn’t try harder to pass as white and get white peoples’ approval. I think they viewed that as white rejection.

Sorry, I’m really not trying to poc this conversation or take away from what you’re saying. I’m just probably not the best person to answer some of this. If anyone wants to add feel free.

#I’ve been saying similar things although more so about the colorism #you can check out my race tag #sorry this took some time to get to #I’m trying not to poc the conversation so if anyone wants to add feel free #I’m just trying to answer and acknowledge without overstepping #I try to stick with things I know such as colorism and feeling like I don’t belong in my own community #race #we got mail #she’s dated men of color but that shouldn’t matter #I actually think a lot of hatred of her came from the fact that she didn’t try harder to pass as white and get white peoples’ approval

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knickynoo · 3 years

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Do you have any thoughts on Marty and his self esteem issues? In most of the trilogy, I feel like Marty ranges from experience a lot of insecurity at best, to like a considerable amount of self loathing at worst, (like pls Marty, Doc getting struck by lighting was not your fault? You’re not Thor?) . And there’s the whole chicken thing, so I was curious if you had any thoughts on where it stems from, how it’s affected him etc etc? Okay lmao that’s it, have a great day !!

Hello! Do I have thoughts?? Yes. I do.

So, one of the things I like so much about Marty as a character is that...he's kind of an enigma of sorts? Like. Here's this kid who skateboards, rocks that denim jacket and the cool sunglasses, plays guitar, has a pretty girlfriend, etc. You take all of that, and it should reflect a really confident, popular person. I mean, with all the stereotypical "cool guy" attributes considered, Marty should have Ferris Bueller-level confidence and charm. He should be strutting around, smooth-talking everyone, laughing in the face of danger, and possessing unshakeable self-esteem. But he does/has none of those things because, as we all know, Marty is A Mess (affectionate). And yeah, a lot of it seems to stem from self-esteem issues, which we do see sprinkled throughout the trilogy. Where's it all coming from? Well, a lot of places, most likely...

• FAMILY: Probably the biggest factor. Though I'm sure George and Lorraine were sincerely in love for a while at the beginning of their relationship/marriage, I think it's fair to assume that any real spark between them had pretty much fizzled out by the time Marty came along or when he was a young kid. Take a loveless relationship between a meek, subservient man and a woman who drinks away her feelings, factor in a 17-year-old boy who's probably never had any real semblance of parental stability in his house, and it's highly likely that kid is going to have some issues. It's really difficult to believe in yourself & feel secure when the norm is having parents who are wrapped up in their own worlds/rarely interact with each other, seeing your father get emotionally (& physically!) pushed around by his supervisor, and watching your mom cling to alcohol and sink into depression.

• Plus, there are the separate relationships George and Lorraine have with Marty. Granted, we don't see much of it, but what we see at dinner is probably a good example of a typical interaction. George is quick to steer Marty away from any situation where he may face rejection or hardship. And yeah, he may think he's protecting his son, but this strategy is actually pretty harmful. I can imagine that any time Marty is feeling nervous or let down, and goes to his father seeking encouragement, he's only left with the impression that it's better not to take any risks at all because he might fail anyway. Instead of being built up, any potential self-worth is being chipped away at by George.

And as far as Lorraine is concerned, I get the impression that she's (more often than not) critical and judgemental of Marty. She's not shy about airing her strong dislike for Jennifer, during which Marty stays completely silent and unresponsive. Perhaps Marty's general default around his mom is silence, due to him having learned a long while back that he's better off keeping his mouth shut. I can see Lorraine lecturing Marty often, picking apart every little flaw she may see in him (friends, grades, attitude, etc.), especially when she's had too many drinks and especially when you consider that Marty is probably her most "difficult" child. Sad as it may sound, I can't picture Marty walking away from very many interactions with his mother feeling good about himself.

• GENERAL ANXIETY/NEURODIVERGENCY: Marty is an easily flustered, anxious guy. And whether that stems from his home environment or genetics (I mean, look at George), I don't know. But he definitely seems to be a sort of nervous, hesitant kid, particularly in the first movie. I also, like most of the fandom, headcanon Marty as having ADHD. And like...if that's the case for him, it certainly isn't helping at all with the self-esteem stuff. He's written off as a slacker at school, told he'll never amount to anything, and probably struggles a lot to keep up in his classes and survive in an environment that almost definitely doesn't offer any form of support or accommodations. That would be a big blow to his self-worth as well.

People with ADHD also tend to be very critical of themselves, worry about what others think of them, and have a hard time with rejection. Hence, the one rejection at the audition followed by, I'm just a big, stupid failure and I'll never ever be good enough. My world is crumbling, I should just give up everything forever =(((

(What do you mean those weren't his exact words??)

• BONUS: Marty might also face a decent amount of social isolation/teasing due to his friendship with Doc, which would take a toll on confidence too. Also, I just...don't think that Marty has many friends??

When you take all the above factors, Marty's self-esteem issues make a lot of sense and, if not for Doc, would probably run a lot deeper than what we see in the trilogy. ALSO!

• Marty blaming himself for Doc getting hit by lightning in the DeLorean: I've seen a few people comment on this and how they think it's ridiculous that Marty felt guilty but...it's always made a lot of sense to me, actually. No, Marty didn't cause the lightning, but he did set off the chain of events that led to Doc being there at that moment. If he'd had the inner strength/self-control to walk away from Biff outside of the dance, he could have just joined Doc on the roof with the almanac and they'd have been on their merry way. And even if Biff had continued to challenge him, or even followed him, Marty likely could have created a diversion or gotten an adult at the dance to help and still made it up to the roof before the worst of the storm hit. But because he couldn't stand being called a chicken, he ended up taking a door to the face, had the book stolen back, and had to go on that little side adventure to retrieve it, which led to Doc needing to save him. So yeah, I'm actually team Marty on this one. His choice did lead to Doc being catapulted into the Old West, lol. I'd have been consumed with guilt too.

• The Chicken Thing: I'm not going to go into too much detail (HA!) because this is already ridiculously long, but I will say that I don't go by the more popular headcanon that says Marty's sudden inability to handle being challenged is due to the updated timeline taking effect and "altering" him. Essentially, that Marty growing up with a confident, successful father made him have higher expectations put on him, and so he was always striving to prove he could live up to them.

I actually don't think any ripples from the new timeline catch up to Marty yet during the course of the trilogy. (I tend to headcanon that as happening gradually in the coming weeks and months after he gets home). Instead, I think that Marty's inclination towards becoming feral at the words "chicken", "yellow", etc. is because of his life in his original timeline. Growing up with a jellyfish for a father, it makes sense that Marty would want to distance himself as much as possible from being associated with weakness. He'd want to prove himself that much more because everyone around him would probably think he's just like his cowardly old man.

And though I know it's not really possible (because they weren't planning on a 2nd or 3rd movie), I think a case can be made that there's a glimpse of the "chicken thing" in the first movie, in the scene of Marty and Lorraine in the car at the dance. I mean, he gets all upset and tells her not to drink, but then she calls him a square, uses the classic peer-pressure tactic of, everyone's doing it, and he caves instantly and takes a swig. Could be because he doesn't want to be thought of as a square, or could be because he's desperate to calm his nerves a bit. Either way, Marty doesn't seem to fare too well when challenged or put under pressure, so I lump this scene in as a "chicken" moment.

I...need to stop. I set out to write a quick response to this. Like, a paragraph or two. But this question activated Hyperfocus Mode, and I blinked and now it's 2 hours after I started and I have AN ESSAY.

Thanks for the ask! *goes to lie down*

#back to the future #bttf #marty mcfly #asks #nikki rambles #nikki be quiet challenge #🤐#though...at this point you all know what you're getting into when you ask my thoughts or analysis #so I suppose you want responses like this??#idk i'm always a little worried i'm going on too much and am annoying everybody #so i hid it under a cut so you can scroll past if you want lol

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vivianweasley · 4 years

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Pride and Prejudice (Chapter 5)

Summary: Your father is Lucius Malfoy’s cousin, and after the war, it was really difficult for you to find a job because of your last name. So your mother and Mrs. Weasley came up with a crazy idea. A fake marriage between you and Fred Weasley.

In this chapter: It’s already the last month of your fake marriage. Is all of this really going to end?

Pairing: Fred Weasley X Malfoy!Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, misunderstanding, insecurity, mean relatives, reader being jealous?

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: I apologize for not updating for so long cuz I was feeling burnt out. And I apologize in advance for this chapter, but since it’s Pride and Prejudice themed, I had to include a part like this afghjldfk Also, I may or may not named one of the characters after a Pride and Prejudice character:)

Pictures are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on any platform! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

Pride and Prejudice Series Masterlist

Sometimes you would wonder what would it be like if you and Fred were friends when you were still in Hogwarts. And as your mind wandered through these imaginary scenarios, you would also daydream about what would it be like if you went to the Yule Ball with him. But regardless, just being in this moment, dancing with him to your favorite love song, was magical enough.

You were invited to Fred’s cousin’s wedding, along with the other Weasleys. Playing the character of Fred’s wife for almost eleven months now made you a regular guest to all kinds of the Weasley family gatherings.

As the music played and the guests joining the bride and groom on the dance floor, you and Fred decided to join, too.

“I’m definitely playing this song at my own wedding!” you were excited when your favorite love song started playing.

“And I’m definitely play something livelier,” Fred smiled as he commented.

“Glad we’re not having the same wedding then,” you glared at him, trying hard not to step on his foot. “I have a feeling our idea of an ideal wedding would be completely different.”

“So what is your ideal wedding?” Fred asked. You looked up at him and realized he looked sincere.

“I haven’t really thought about it, but a small wedding with my close family and friends would be nice,” you answered. You left out one detail. All you could think of now was what would it be like if you could really marry Fred. But of course, you wouldn’t tell him that, “I’m assuming yours would be something more exciting.”

“Of course!” If you paid attention, you would notice the blush climbing up on Fred’s cheeks, but you were too flustered by your own daydreams.

“Let me guess, someone would probably turn into a canary.”

“Very likely,” he replied while twirling you around with the music, “and that someone is probably you!”

You laughed as you twirled. You weren’t paying close attention to your steps, and your right foot tripped your left foot. But you landed in Fred’s arm.

You looked up at him as your heartbeat started to pick up. Your lips were only inches away now that you could already feel his breath brushing lightly against your lips.

You didn’t know how long has passed as you two both froze on the spot. Just a little bit closer and your lips would be pressing together. You never knew you wanted this kiss so desperately until now, and the fact that this was already the last month of your one-year marriage contract made it worse. You would be lying if you say you have never fantasized about Fred reciprocating your feelings, and this fake marriage could turn into a real one by the end of the year.

“Fred?” A voice interrupted this moment and your daydream.

Fred pulled away awkwardly with the blush still tainting his cheeks. “Mrs. Collins? Maureen?” You turned and saw the owner of the voice was an older woman and beside her was a beautiful younger woman, who’s about your age.

“Freddie! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Mrs. Collins pulled Fred into a hug, and when she finally let go of him, her eyes turned to look at you.

“Oh, Mrs. Collins, this is Y/N.”

You put on a polite smile and held out your hand, “Hi, I’m Y/N-”

“Malfoy!” she cut you off, without acknowledging your hand, “I’ve heard that Freddie married a Malfoy. How interesting! How did you two meet?”

The way she said “Malfoy” and her question stung you. From past experiences, you knew this conversation is probably not going to end well. “Our parents are actually old friends, so we met when we were still little,” you answered, hands fidgeting and not looking at Mrs. Collins.

“What a coincidence! Cause Maureen and Fred have also known each other since they were kids, isn’t that right, Freddie?”

“Yea,” Fred smiled, not noticing how your expression froze in an awkward state, “Oh, Y/N, this is Maureen. We used to be friends when we were kids until she transferred to Beauxbatons.”

“Hey, it wasn’t like I had a choice!” She slapped on Fred’s arm, causing Fred to laugh while pretending to be hurt.

Watching them interact so naturally, you suddenly felt like you were interrupting something. A horrible feeling crept up in your mind. What if there’s already someone in Fred’s life, yet you still forced him to sign this stupid marriage contract?

“And Maureen’s an interior designer now! So if your little shop needs a makeover, I’m sure Maureen’s willing to help,” Mrs. Collins suggested. Her tone and expression all reminded you of your mum when she tried to set you and Fred up.

“Oh right! Fred,” Mrs. Collins continued, “come say hi to the rest of the family! I’m sure they all missed you a lot.”

“I would love to, but Y/N...” Fred looked at you. You couldn’t figure out what his expression meant? Was this an excuse because he didn’t want to go? Or did he want to go?

You didn’t know why insecurity started to cloud your brain. Growing up, you always thought you’re proud most of the time, but this was not the case when it comes to your last name. You knew you shouldn’t feel ashamed of it. The history and crime this name carried have nothing to do with you. And you knew feeling ashamed of it gives it power over you, but all you could do was retreating to your shell whenever someone brought up your last name.

So your final decision was, “It’s okay, you can go. I’ll go find Ginny.”

“Great!” Mrs. Collins started dragging Fred to her family’s table. Fred was still looking at you, but then you heard Mrs. Collins say, “Don’t worry about Y/N! I know she probably wouldn’t want anything to do with our sort of people, anyway.”

Your stomach sank. What did she mean by “our sort of people”? And more importantly, what did being your sort of people imply?

A few months ago, you thought changing your last name by marriage could solve everything. But the cruel fact was that it changed nothing.

And maybe it was your insecurity talking, but how could Fred not say anything when Mrs. Collins made such a comment? Did he not understand what she meant? Or did he...agree with her?

After they disappeared in the crowd, you immediately apparate back to the apartment like you were fleeing a monster from your nightmare. That was the only logical move you could think of at that time.

“Fred,” you kicked off your heels after you got back to the apartment from work and began rambling on about your day, “you won’t believe what happened today. I-” But the words choked in your throat when you saw another person in the kitchen. You recognized it was Maureen Collins from the wedding a week ago.

You thought you already forgot about what Mrs. Collins said to you at the wedding, but those words immediately rushed back when you saw Maureen again.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re back!” Fred exclaimed, and he noticed the box in your hand, “Is that my favorite pie!”

“Yea, I didn’t know...” It was supposed to be a surprise, but now it just felt extra when it seemed like they were already cooking a meal.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier. This was really last-minute,” Maureen explained.

“Yea, Maureen was here to help with the makeover of the shop, and it’s almost dinner time when we were done, so we thought-”

“No worries,” you cut Fred off before he could finish with the explanation. You didn’t like the way he sounded. It almost made you feel like you were a party pooper.

“We can just eat the pie tomorrow!” You tried to put on a smile when you shoved the pie into the fridge.

“Brilliant! All sorted now! Y/N, come help! Dinner would be ready faster if we had three people cooking.”

“Yea,” Maureen chuckled, “Fred was just talking about the first time you two tried to cook together. It must be difficult having to cook with an absolute idiot, let alone being forced to live with him for one year.”

Your heart sank. Fred told her that the marriage is fake? According to your contract, he shouldn’t have told anyone, unless...

Watching Maureen cooking and laughing with Fred, your mind just couldn’t shake off the images of her living here and being his real wife. You had to admit that you didn’t like these images, but why should you care if someone else is going to live here instead of you. Your mum forced you to live here anyway, and now you could finally go home.

Home. You sighed as the image of home appeared in your mind. And you finally admitted that for the past few months, you also considered this apartment your home.

But you put on the contract yourself stating that you both could date whoever you like during this fake marriage, and you had no business in interfering with Fred and Maureen’s relationship now.

So you picked up your jacket again, “Actually, I’m having dinner with my friend tonight-”

“But I thought you were planning to eat at home,” Fred pointed at the fridge, referring to the pie.

“Oh, that’s for tomorrow,” you lied, even though you knew your excuses didn’t match with what you just said a few minutes ago. You panicked, so you proceeded to say something that you never thought you would say, “Plus, I need to give you two space.” You even said it with a wink, covering for the fact that you panicked, and you just rushed out the door before anyone could say anything.

You went back to your parents’ house for the night and only returned to the apartment the next morning. Knowing the exact time when Fred would usually go downstairs to the joke shop, you successfully apparated into the apartment without bumping into anyone. You just wanted to avoid seeing him.

You decided to start packing up. There are only less than two weeks left, and you didn’t want to occupy other people’s home for longer than you needed. Your pride demanded a graceful exit.

You knew it would be much easier and quicker if you used magic. Just by a flick of your wand, everything would be packed. It would be so clean like you’ve never been here before, but somehow, you just wanted to take your time with it.

And it was until you started packing when you realized how attached you were to this little apartment. One year wasn’t that long, just like what you said at the beginning of all this, but every corner of this apartment had trails of you living here and your memories.

It was just a contract, you tried to convince yourself, and now the time’s up. But it still pained you to remove your every trail. You realized you were not only removing your existence from this apartment but also Fred Weasley’s life.

“Y/N?” You were so busy going down memory lane that you didn’t notice the series of footsteps coming upstairs. You turned and saw Fred, who looked very confused now as he glanced around and saw the packed boxes. “What are you doing?”

“Just packing up,” you tried to say it as indifferently as possible, “there are only two weeks left, so I thought I should probably start moving my stuff away.”

“Oh,” Fred paused for a moment before the corners of his mouth twitched into an awkward smile, “guess you’re finally free.”

“Yea, and so are you,” you tried to force a laugh, maybe he’s always waiting for this moment, the moment that he’s finally free, “I’ll move back to my parents’ house this week so that the divorce would look more realistic.”

His mouth opened, and you could tell that he was trying to say something. And for a second, you thought maybe he’s trying to think of a way to stop you. To say that he didn’t want you to leave.

But all he said was, “Okay.”

It was only around 6:30 am when you woke up. There were too many things on your mind that you couldn’t even enjoy staying asleep at ease. It was your last night here, after all.

Fred was still asleep with both his arm and leg on top of you. He’s an obnoxious sleeper, but you didn’t mind.

You snuggled closer to him as your mind went through the nights that he comforted you when you couldn’t sleep, the sleepless nights that you would chat and laugh with so much ease, and the mornings when you woke with your limbs tangled together. It all felt like a dream, and maybe now it’s time to wake up.

But before you do that, before you had to exit from his life, you just wanted to stay in this moment and stay in his arms for a little longer. You closed your eyes as you took in that familiar cinnamon scent and his cologne. Let’s just dream for a little longer.

Fred woke up with the other side of the bed empty. In a haze of sleepiness, he thought you just went to the bathroom. You would always come back to bed and try to squeeze in a few minutes of sleep before finally getting up and getting ready. But you didn’t come back today.

In fact, the apartment was awfully quiet today. He couldn't hear your footsteps rushing in and out of the bedroom to get ready for work. And he didn't hear you yelling things like "Did you see my keys?" or "FRED! Where did my apple juice go??"

Fred got up and tried to search for you in the living room, only to realize that most of your stuff was already gone. He collapsed on the nearby couch, not sure if he was still tired or feeling empty that you were gone.

How could you just walk away so easily? How could you just pull away from all of this almost like nothing ever happened? More importantly, how could you tease him about Maureen like it didn’t matter at all to you? And here he thought you two had great chemistry.

But without that and the contract of being fake husband and wife, Fred was confident that he could say you became friends. Even if you didn’t, at least you were roommates for a year, and that should induce some sort of emotion too.

But no, you just walked away, and all he could do was just getting used to not having you in his life anymore.

(to be continued.)

series taglist: @ifilosemyselfagain @theweasleytwinsgirl @bookworm06 @unabashedbookscollector @txtdreamss @sagittarius-flowerchild @rsheridan @ovrwd @anywherebuthere @allaroundaddict @jeminila @secretsofageek @magical-spit @freddieweasleyswife @lilypad-55449 @hufflepuffzutara @honey-honey-5644 @kyloren-peterparker @treblebeth @kyloren-peterparker @fred-sux @rodrickmalfoy @liliputbahn @its-yasbxtch @daydreamgirl8 @305weasley @awritingtree (message me if you want to be added or removed!)

(General taglist in reblogged post cuz it can’t fit in one post)

Taglist Form

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley series #fred weasley x malfoy!reader #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

innocence - 25

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: smut (18+)

A/N: me to me “you shall not write smut. BEHAVE” also me “mILE HIGH CLUB”. 2021 barely started and i already need jesus. also rip me attempting to post this before christmas but hey i refuse to let christmas end bc christmas is my only hope and love and it’s over.

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky was the first one up as the clock struck 5AM. He was anxious for the flight, for everything really. Y/N had assured him she had bought first class tickets so he’d be comfortable with the long trip but he was still reticent about flying. As an Avenger he used to do national missions, preferring not to fly as it brought him some memories he didn’t like to relieve. Sam had suggested he took some sleeping pills while the flight was going but Bucky refused not to be there to support Y/N who’d been getting called by her team 24/7 about her “mishap” as her manager like to refer to. As if a 20-something dating was something weird. Bucky knew Steve did way worse things than that but of course, she had stepped off the line, off the good girl, virgin ‘til marriage, girl next door yet just gorgeously unattainable and if Y/N hadn’t told him to stay out of it, he would’ve threatened everyone.

Anyway, other than flying he kept wondering about her family. Y/N had a big family, at least more family than he had and he wasn’t entirely sure how they would react to him. Bucky knew he wasn’t the type of man you’d like your daughter to bring in. Who’d want to say that their daughter was dating an assassin? No one. He had wanted to say no, he wanted her to have a nice holiday but looking at her there was no denying her.

Y/N woke up half an hour later, extending her arm towards Bucky’s side only to feel the cold of the sheets on her side. She rose her torso, rubbing the sleep off her eyes before the blurry room became clear. He was sat on the big armchair, staring at the flight tickets.

- Someone’s an early bird. - she leaned on the bed, hands under her chin as he gave her his charming smile. - Excited?

- Nervous. - he rose from his chair to kiss her forehead. - Do you need anything, princess?

- Just need to get dressed. - she lazily got up from her bed. - You’re gonna love it, Buck. There’s snow on the ground, we can get spiced mulled tea and go see the decorations at the West End.

- I’m sure I will. Now get dressed unless you plan on going to the airport in your underwear.

- I don’t see you complaining. - she flirted, hips moving side to side as she opened his wardrobe to grab her burgundy long sleeve dress and pair of black flats. Bucky tried his best not to ogle at her and her figure in a matching black set of star motif bra and panties with garters to see through black stockings. Sometimes he had to slap himself to convince himself the woman standing in front of him actually liked him. - You’re okay with going, right?

- Of course, princess. Whatever makes you happy.

- Okay but what makes you happy? We don’t need to go if you don’t feel comfortable.

- Just regular meeting the parents nerves. - he pulled her hair away from her face to kiss her forehead.

- Based on the photos Rebecca has, I would say you’ve met enough parents not to be nervous anymore.

- Come here, you little minx. - he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her in close to him. - I will have you know that I never met any of the girls’ parents. It was not a good thing for a lady to be seen alone with a man in my time, so we had to keep it a secret.

- Mhm, were you destroying ladies’ reputations in your day, Mr. Barnes? Is that it?

- Not my fault they couldn’t resist me. - he leaned down to kiss her but she turned her face away, naughty smile on her lips. - Don’t do that to me, princess. It’ll break my tiny heart.

- Stop playing Romeo and grab your bags before we’re late. - she swung her hips side to side to grab her own cary on, a small matte black suitcase with her initials on the bottom left in a small size.

Bucky followed her into the airport. He couldn’t seriously remember the last time he had been in an airport, maybe during his youth but right now everything seemed so different yet he didn’t feel scared. He looked to his right and there she was, holding his hand as the other pulled her trolley, dark sunglasses on to hide who she was but still sporting that smile that was truly hers, something he could pick out of a crowd. He never really liked the word or feeling of possession, neither did she, but they didn’t really mind the feeling that a ship’s rope held both their hands together in a nautical strong knot. It was that sort of feeling that disconnected them both from what surrounded them, the sound of echoed and at the same time murmured silence. Y/N didn’t mind, Bucky didn’t mind. The flashlights went by dim and the announcements went mute for both of them.

Y/N however did not like airports. For her, airports signified goodbyes, harmful and painful goodbyes those were you wave goodbye to your loved ones and walk into security checks with tears lodged in her throat, telling herself to put herself together as she approached the beginning of that line. It represented waving goodbye to her comforts to travel somewhere she was not happy, not that her life in the US after she left the UK didn’t made her happy, it did but it was a faux happiness. It was locked inside a bought apartment with people who didn’t or refused to understand her, with friends she loved and cared for but didn’t really check on her them too lost on their own lives, it was yearning for a love that took years to come and everyone told her it would come but never did. It was an odd feeling being at the airport but being with Bucky twisted that. It was no longer leaving loved ones, it was departing with them, it was leaving all the mess that haunted her behind yet she couldn’t help feeling like something lingered in the wind, some cut throating emotions and actions which would return to her.

She decided not to dwell on it, smiling at Bucky as he picked some snacks to bring inside the plane besides her telling him they probably would have the peanut M&Ms rather than his beloved chocolate only ones. She watched him as someone watched something that reminded them of a childhood memory or something that touched them, with a tinge of sadness, almost knowing it would never happen again. She felt tied to him but she felt at any time this knot could worn out and she feared he would leave. Things fade, nothing lasts forever and she wondered when he would realise that he was dating a ticking time bomb controlled by others. She had control over her own heart but her face, her reputation, that would never be hers to control.

- Y/N? - he laid his hand on top of her shoulder. - Are you okay, princess?

- Yeah, just thinking. - she handed the lady the tickets, holding Bucky’s hand as he led her inside the airplane.

Y/N was lucky to be used to first class, she spent in life in it but for Bucky it was a jarring new experience. His parents used to be well off, better than most however they were never well enough to afford flying anywhere. The closest he’d been to flying was in military helicopters but all his experience to commercial flying had been watching on magazines but even this looked so different. It looked like a perfect first class bedroom in a five star hotel with individual little places for each passenger and some for couples which he guessed was one for the two of them. As they approached their cabin, a polished dressed lady signalled them inside their own seats. She looked at Bucky who had star filled eyes as he noticed all the comfort of his seat.

- Is this how you travel? - he sat down by the window, looking at the small bottles of water, juices and fun sized treats. - Now I know why you travel so much. It’s like a damn hotel room here.

- Peanut M&M’s. - she grabbed one of the snacks from his side. - I believe you’ll be donating those to me.

- That’s a travesty, princess. I cannot believe you prefer those with peanuts

- Peanuts are great.

- Unless you’re allergic to them.

- You’re not allergic to peanuts. Steve would’ve told me if you were and I saw you eat a peanut energy bar yesterday. - she crossed her arms.

- First, I hate peanuts so it’s almost as if I were allergic to them. Second, KIND bars don’t count, you know how good they are, they add that little caramel drizzle.

- I guess we’re gonna have more than my nephews and nieces for a picky eater this Christmas. - she laughed, picking the remote to shuffle through whatever the company offered. Bucky leaned on her shoulder, leaving a kiss on it right before he did. - Thank you for coming with me.

- That’s not a problem, princess. Besides, who would guard you if I were not to come?

- Is this overtime then, Mr. Barnes? - she looked down at him, his childish yet charming smile whenever he meant to tease her which he so easily could do both meanings of the word. - We should prepare for take off.

It couldn’t be too different from take off in the quinjet. Bucky had done it once after the train incident but it always brought him back to it. He wasn’t like this and it pained him that the slightest of turbulences in any travels now made him feel like a kid. He didn’t use to be like this, he was fearless, going on the Cyclone time and time again and now ... now he was a shell of a man afraid of take off. He shouldn’t be afraid, it was not his role, right? He knew things were different then and were different now but he always wanted to be strong, strong for her as if any insecurity would throw her away. He knew it didn’t, Bucky knew Y/N was there to stick around and didn’t care about what the war and HYDRA had done to him but he cared. Bucky wanted to be her hero, her safe harbour and with this ...

His mind shattered into snowflakes as she held his hand, the captain’s voice muffled as the plane gathered speech. Y/N never hand cold hands or a cold touch, she was just warm, a little ray of sunshine burning his icy exterior and forcing him to see the beauty of winter. Bucky clearly mostly got distracted by her own beauty but her holding his hand, the rings on her fingers which she had gathered from little shops along the street against his hand, made him want to remove the dagger he had stuck on himself so he could feel pain forevermore.

The plane move upwards, both of them being pulled against their seats by the laws of physics on an endless climb and he still had his eyes closed, finding comfort in the darkness.

- Buck. - her finger caressed his jaw. - Look out the window.

Bucky peaked open one of his eyes, looking out the window near him to see a full blue sky, completely different from the dark skies of the winter filled New York they had just left.

- We fly above the clouds. Isn’t it beautiful? - she leaned against his shoulder.

- You see this everytime?

- Unless I’m flying at night, yeah. Sunsets and risings are particularly stunning.

- Now what?

- Now we wait for round 6 to 7 hours. We can put a movie on, maybe. Whatever you’d like.

Bucky took to shuffling through the movie catalogue himself. Some of the movies he’d never heard about and some he’d heard from Sam or from Steve’s list of movies he had to watch yet he never did. Capitan America himself stuck to the old classics, the movies they used to sneak through the backdoor of the theatre. He himself liked the classics too and Y/N, as a film/acting major herself, also had a soft spot for them. Bucky’s favourite was the Wizard of Oz, despite later knowing how controversial filming had been, yet he couldn’t help but always remember the wonder on his sister’s face and his own wonder as he watched the vivid colours. He could still feel it now, however the movie ended and soon the food came in and he found himself bored. There wasn’t much he could do on a plane and he found himself jealous of the 5 year old running up and down the cabin, despite most of Y/N’s laughter.

He covered himself in the company’s blanket and snuggled against the pillow and still he couldn’t sleep. Y/N on the other hand had fallen asleep the moment she pulled the leg rest, wrapped around in her blanket, face facing his which gave Bucky the excuse to look at her while she slept. Bucky always found it wildly amusing how she slept, lips slightly puckered, eyes fluttering until she fell in deep and hands fisting the blanket up to her chin. Eventually, Bucky got frustrated, moving around in his seat to find a comfortable position. How come he couldn’t find a comfortable position on a first class seat?

- Buck ... - she groaned, opening her eyes. - Stop moving around.

- I’m sorry, princess. I’m just ... so bored. How do you do this?

- I sleep. - she placed the blanket on her lap. - Why don’t you get something else to eat?

- How many hours left?

- You don’t wanna know. - she rubbed the sleep of her eyes, Bucky still laid against his seat, blanket on his lap, head against the head rest. Y/N started thinking about how to entertain him until her gaze fell onto his lap. Looking around the cabin was quiet, no cabin crew or passengers on their feet, just a calm cabin.

She moved closer to him, head against her shoulder, facade of a glistening angel on a renaissance painting. Her fingers traced the soft finish of his blanket, the embodied company name until her fingers were under the soft fabric. She slide her hand under his shirt, feeling his warm skin as her hand travelled downwards towards the Hugo Boss boxers he wore, fingers hooking on the waistband. Bucky swallowed dry, wondering if he had finally gone to sleep and this was finally a good dream or if his sweet, innocent girlfriend was actually about to do what his mind was rushing to as her fingers wrapped around his softened member. He grunted, looking at her like she was a fever dream, hips mindlessly thrusting into her soft warm hand. He would say there was no better feeling, had it not been for the fact he had been inside of her.

Y/N bite her lip, insecurely swiping her thumb over the tip, his pre cum dripping onto it. She didn’t know what she was doing, mostly going by the erotica she had read and seen before, guiding herself by his low sounds, mumbled by his own hand which laid against his own mouth. She looked up at him, cerulean eyes looking at the ceiling as if all his strength would break loose were he to look at her and she thought that was the most gorgeous he’d look. She straight herself up, pushing his hand away from his mouth to start kissing him, something which would look rather innocent to anyone who passed by. Her kiss was warm, hot and sinful, much more different than the shy ones she would lay on him each morning yet he guessed it matched with her movements, fast and tighter against his cock. He tried to remain still, allow her to do what she wanted to do but his body had a different idea, hips thrusting and gyrating against her hand like some idiot teenager as her mouth lowered to kiss his pulse point. His breathe quickened, coming into staccatto as her movement quickened. The environment was blurry and all he could think about and hear were her movements and his body shuddering until he was spurting thick ropes of white liquid onto her hand and his breathe came out knocked as if he had finished a race.

She cleaned her palm with a tissue, bringing her fingers up to her cherry tinted lips from her chapstick, disappearing within the plumpness of them. He swore he could cum again just from that sight. As he tried to regain his breathe from the latter event, she gave him a shy smile, pushing her blanket up to her chin. Whatever she did to him, whatever release she had given him had made him comfortable enough on that cloud nine that sent him into sleeping, only awaking once the plane wheels hit British soil.

It was dark, around 9PM the captain had said and Bucky himself thought the trip was over until both of them disembarked onto the airport which was a completely different world. Had it not been by Y/N’s unwillingness to spend more time in an airport, he would’ve possibly stood behind taking pictures yet once she spotted a man with a sheet with her name written in, she had his hand on hers and dragged him up to it.

Bucky had been in London, he remembered it from the war and some buildings were the same yet everything was brighter. His eyes shone against the decorations, wondering how bigger they could get and Y/N took great pleasure in seeing him so happy. All she wanted was to make him happy, all she wanted was to see him happy. The taxi driver stopped in front of her childhood home which gladly always seemed to look the same with christmas lights and garlands. Both of them step out the car and the nerves finally hit Bucky. How do you meet someone’s parents? How do you meet the person who just gave you a handjob’s parents and make a good impression? How could he make a good impression? He was a hundred year old never aging man with a metal arm dating the little rose that everyone put on an altar. He didn’t belong. Maybe he could stop her, maybe he could convince her not to ring the bell except she was already ringing the bell and the door was opening up.

A short woman in a white jumper and jeans opened the door. She had Y/N’s eyes, the same eyes Bucky would recognise anywhere and based by the tight hug she gave Y/N, he would guess she was his mother.

- Mum, this is Bucky. - she held Bucky’s hand. What should he do? Should he wave?

- Oh my, you’re tall. I thought that with a nickname like that you’d be small. Oh, here I am again rambling. We are so happy here, you know, you’re the first man Y/N brings home.

- Mum!

- What? It’s true. You’re my oldest child and only now have you brought a man. Aunt Petunia is really proud of you.

- Mum!

- Come in, Bucky. Can I call you Bucky? Come meet the family.

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emphatizen · 3 years

Text

Enough for Me

Warnings and mentions of content: Warnings and Mentions of certain content: Set in 2032, Jaehyun in his 30s, Female Y/N in her 30s, Idol! Jaehyun Adoption, Angst Infertility and the insecurity that comes with it, CEO! reader, Post-pandemic world, Y/N is married to NCT Jaehyun, No proofreading

It is currently Sunday, a well-deserved rest day from work. Life as the CEO of a company that creates flour and other baking ingredients can be really difficult, especially this week when certain bakeries decided to buy from your company because a technical issue from a rival baking ingredients company caused them to not have the ingredients they needed for baked goods. The business owners were really desperate for ingredients and were willing to pay much more than usual for your baking ingredients if your company could give their ingredients to them last Saturday (yesterday). You and your team have been doing overtime for 3 days straight to try and meet those desperate orders in addition to the usual orders. You are so tired from all the work. Thankfully, all the work is done now. What a relief. Hopefully, all this hard work means more bakeries will buy your company’s products.

You are finally in the living room to do your favorite relaxing activity, watching TV. The channel that first comes up is showing some old Kdrama from 2003 that you didn’t enjoy watching so you pick up the remote and press the button for Channel 8. You see a pregnant woman playing with what seems to be her adorable children. How cute. You see your husband Jaehyun knocking on her houses’ door. “Oh right”, you think to yourself. Jaehyun was guesting in a show where childless celebrities get to spend time with the children of other celebrities. You probably forgot about that show because of all the work you had to do. One of the children in the show is a little girl named Jaehwa. She looks a lot like Jaehyun, which is kind of surprising because neither of her parents look anything like Jaehyun. People in the show kept saying how adorable and cute she is. Some of the people in the show even said they can’t wait for Jaehyun to have babies so they can see little mini-mes of him. You think to yourself “You know, the idea of having a kid with Jaehyun sounds like a great idea”. Unfortunately, you quickly remember the fact that you can’t have kids in the traditional “just get pregnant” way. You lack some body parts that are needed for a normal pregnancy

Ever since you were young, you dreamed of one day being able to be a mother in the traditional way it is shown in media which is to get pregnant, give birth, and raise the children. Unfortunately, you can’t really change the fact that you just don’t have the body parts for that to happen. A biological child made the usual way just isn’t happening.

Instead of wallowing in self-pity, you decide to go on Twitter to just lurk like you usually do on a private account. You think “Well, his fans probably won’t expect a baby right?”, so you go search posts with the hashtag #정재현 . By the way, everyone knows you are Jaehyun’s wife. While the responses to his appearance on the show were majority good (like comments about how it seems the kids reacted well to him and all), you do notice tweets like “Y/N, please have lots of babies with our Jaehyunie”, “Y/N, what are you waiting for, have babies”, and “I wish I could be Y/N and have his babies”. You think to yourself in a sarcastic way “Wonderful”.

To make matters worse, you remember your past insecurities. Before you started dating Jaehyun, you wondered if he was even worth confessing to because there were lots of pretty girls who were in love with him. Those pretty girls could probably make him a dad pretty quick. You also remember giving a shoulder to cry on to your friend Sarah. Sarah doesn’t have those pregnancy supporting parts either. She tried to make it work with her ex-husband but it just didn’t work. Part of the reasons why her marriage broke down is because her husband wanted to be with someone who could give him biological children to continue his bloodline. He promised her his lifetime and acceptance of her infertility and then in the end just divorced her when his desire to have a biological child became too strong. It took her so long to finally heal and move on. The idea of Jaehyun leaving you was scary and sad. I mean he probably wouldn’t leave you like Sarah’s ex-husband did but you weren’t 100% convinced because you really did believe Sarah’s ex-husband would keep his promise at first and was also shocked when he broke it.

For some reason, while you were thinking about your past, you hear a knock on your house’s door. You quickly open the door. It’s Jaehyun, tired but happy after a long day of songwriting.

You tell him “Come in”. He comes inside, smile still on his face. For some reason, his smile disappears. He looks at you and says “Why do you look sad baby?” You guess your old middle school drama teacher was right, you really were terrible at keeping your real feelings from showing through.

I say “Well... you remember that show you were on where you played with Jaehwa.” He said “Yeah, what about the show? Did I do anything wrong?”. You say “No not at all, it’s just that...”. He interrupts you by saying “Are you insecure because you can’t have kids?”.

With a sigh, you try to pull as much courage you can and say “Yes”. He hugs you and then says “Y/N Remember when I told you I’d love you no matter what?”. You say “Yeah”. He says “I knew good and well when I married you that you couldn’t have kids. I mean I wanted to have biological kids too but I loved you so much that I was willing to not continue my bloodline if it meant being with you for the rest of our lives”. You say “Really Jaehyun?”. He says “Yes really”. He says “I’m sure you’ll make a great mother no matter what way we build our family, so don’t worry”. He just smiles. Happy tears come out of your eyes, grateful to be with Jaehyun. Jaehyun just keeps hugging you. After giving you some alone time. He says “Well, how do you think we should build our family?”. You say “Why don’t we adopt? I like the idea of raising a child who already exists and needs a home. Jaehyun says “Yeah, let’s do that”. There is a long road ahead of you and Jaehyun but you feel happy and ready to take the next step to build a family, knowing Jaehyun would stay beside you.

#kpop fanfic #nct jaehyun #angst with a happy ending #jaehyun

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cdyssey · 3 years

Text

Need

Summary: After Nick arrives at the beach house, Frankie escapes to her studio to process her emotions. Post 7x04.

A/N: I've had such Grace and Frankie brain rot these past few days that I figured I should put it to good use and write another fic. It was really fascinating to try Frankie's POV. Lily Tomlin imbues her with a lot of subtle pathos that I totally wish the show would explicitly explore more.

AO3 Link

—

Frankie excuses herself to the studio for dinner, so she can process her very big, astonishingly inappropriate, and entirely overwhelming emotions without resorting to calling Nick a “wavy-haired, Pierce Brosnan wannabe douche canoe.”

As delightful (and totally true) of a turn a phrase that it is, even she knows that saying it aloud would be trespassing a boundary that she’s sworn herself never to cross: Grace is married.

Unhappily married, maybe.

Complicatedly married at the very least.

But until the day that they mutually say “I do” to divorce papers, there isn’t enough room for three people in the Skolka marriage, however much that Grace—bless her increasingly unthawing heart—tries to ensure otherwise.

So Frankie lets the newly reunited couple have their dinner alone under the guise of a generosity that she doesn’t exactly feel, and she takes leftover pasta into her studio to moodily pick around the bowl until her fettuccine looks less like fettuccine and more like unevenly perforated confetti.

(Woo fucking hoo.)

After a few minutes of this aggressively unconstructive practice, she places her nearly full bowl on a nearby work table and stretches out across her paint-stained couch, staring at the ceiling and resisting the reactionary urge to light a joint. Mary J might help her feel better for the present moment, but tomorrow morning, she’d still wake up and feel invaded in her own home.

Paradoxically, she’d also feel alone, goddammit.

She pulls her shawl more tightly around her shoulders against an invisible and piercing chill.

Frankie hates feeling lonely.

She spiraled when Grace lived in the penthouse. She nearly self-destructed to fill the gaping void that her roommate, her friend, her practical and beloved soulmate left behind. There was a period where she didn’t wash her clothes and ate a lot of admittedly non-vegan takeout. There were nights when she’d lay awake in her awfully huge bed, staring at the empty space where Sol used to sleep, and have the familiar waking nightmare of spending her final years in forced solitude. She was happy with Jack, and then Jacob—sweet Jacob—came around too, and she did something she still feels fucking ashamed about: she hurt both of them, and she lied when she said that she had just wanted to have some fun.

She knows herself.

Intimately.

She‘d been scared of being alone again, so she tried to hold on to two people who were helping her to stave the awful feeling away. Those men wanted her, and Frankie used them. They wanted her, and she pathologically loves to feel wanted because she sometimes and irrationally fears that she might not be needed.

To be fair to her irrational fears, all the people she’s ever needed and felt needed by have hurt her before.

Sol cheated on her for twenty years.

Her own sons stuck her in a nursing home.

Grace just fucking left her.

She eloped in Vegas like a blushing twenty-one year old bride and just disappeared.

She says it was a mistake; she sat across Frankie in a sunlit restaurant and candidly told her that she didn’t like the person she had become when she married Nick.

And to be completely fair to her, Grace has been adamant about not wanting to leave again—so perhaps she never will—but if her husband is here to stay, it's also a distinct possibility that she’ll never have to make the choice to physically leave to… well… leave.

She can perpetually honeymoon with Nick and still call Frankie home.

It could be a happy ending for Grace… and a fresh new hell for Frankie, who'd just started to feel secure again.

God knows she wants her best friend to be happy, but the big man in the sky must also surely understand that she had hoped that she alone could be enough for Grace, that this unconventional life spent together in the beach house—so crazy, so weird, and so inextricably entangled—would be their shared happily ever after.

But even as she thinks it, the vestiges of her clearly misplaced optimism begin to evade her, dregs now at the bottom of an already drained cup.

She and Grace aren't married.

It’s always been an objective fact.

Tonight, it feels more like an unpleasant reality.

When the door leading into her studio suddenly flies open, Frankie barely has enough time to swipe the back of her hand across her eyes before she sits up to find none other than the lady of the hour.

Her collared shirt popped up stiffly around her neck, a martini glass surgically glued to her right hand, Grace looks quintessentially herself as she walks in, even down to the minutiae of her trademark I'm-angry-at-the-world-and-everyone-in-it expression—brow furrowed and eyes Medusa cold. After all but slamming the door, she stalks over within a few clicks of her practical but unmistakably high heels.

“Well, hello to you, too, Sunshine,” Frankie greets wryly, hoping to hell and back that her face isn’t as red as it feels.

It’s a tall order, though.

Alas, she was gifted (or equally cursed) with an exceptionally expressive face.

“Frankie, this is nonsense,” Grace says bluntly, using her martini glass like a pointer and leveling it straight at her head. “Come back to the house—your house—and have dinner with us.”

It’s the authoritarian nature of the demand that rifles Frankie.

Frankly, it pisses her off.

She’s always been a rebel contrarian.

“And by us, you mean you and your house arrested husband, right?” She returns evenly. She betrays herself by raising a single and devastatingly skeptical brow. “The man with whom you should be having a very emotionally honest conversation with right now about the parameters of your jacked up relationship?”

Grace shifts her weight from heel to heel and glances away a little too quickly for the gesture to be entirely natural. Frankie had blatantly stricken a pulsing nerve, and the guilt of doing so immediately swallows her.

She shouldn’t be so hard on her friend.

(She doesn’t know why it’s permissible to be equally hard on herself.)

“Well, I tried to have that conversation, thank you very much, but then I ended up wanting to claw Nick’s eyes out.” The obvious follow up question must shine in Frankie’s face because sighing infinitesimally through her nostrils, Grace adds, “His attorney argued that my advanced age and apparent capability to croak at any moment were reasons enough to grant Nick leniency. They let him out so he could take care of me—whatever the hell that means.”

Her no-nonsense voice never falters as she delivers the brutal words, but her eyes undermine her, seething with emotion, simply roiling. They tell a story of horror and disgust and searing, absolute betrayal; they’re heavy all over with sadness and the indelicate trappings of all her raw and mercilessly exposed fears.

Frankie understands immediately.

Nick used one of Grace’s deepest insecurities as a get-out-of-jail-free card.

Being eighty-two years old.

But perhaps more accurately, feeling like it.

“Oh, honey,” Frankie melts. She can do nothing else but melt, to be suddenly overcome with fierce, protective, and terrifying love for the woman in front of her. “That fucking bastard.”

Grace immediately laughs, the sound hoarse and watery and a little unhinged all at the exact same time.

“Tell me about it,” she half-smiles and takes the swearing as a rightful invitation to join Frankie on the couch. With a gentle clink, she sets her half-emptied martini glass on the table next to Frankie’s completely full pasta bowl. “I said the exact same thing.”

When she chooses to sit close enough that their shoulders are brushing, Frankie intuitively knows that this is petty defiance against Nick for daring to intrude upon them and the world they've so carefully created together.

She temples Grace’s nearest hand with her own in an attempt to silently communicate that this right here—whatever this is between them—is love.

“So, please”—Grace squeezes her hand back—“please don’t be angry with me… I… I didn’t want this. You know I didn’t want this. I don’t want him to even be here.”

Frankie stares openly at her best friend.

Wide-eyed and hopeful against her self-loathing, self-centered will, she searches her broken face like it's revelatory.

It's stunningly rare that Grace Hanson ever articulates her wants so clearly. Forty years of an emotionally repressive marriage did their number and toll on her. She pedestalized rigid decorum over every conscious desire.

She played by the rules even if they hurt her.

And drank herself to oblivion on many a night to forget the very fact that she was hurt.

To deny herself the honesty she’d somehow convinced herself that she didn’t deserve.

“… you know this is your husband we’re talking about here, right?” It’s a rhetorical question. Frankie's pretty sure that they both fucking know that it’s insane that this conversation—that this entire situation as a whole—is happening.

“I know,” Grace replies firmly. “Believe me, I'm well aware. But you’re… you’re my partner, Frankie, and if I can’t be upfront with you, then I don’t know who else I can turn to.”

The very word partner sends shivers down her spine, and the shivers collect like butterflies in her already churning belly.

It’s just a word, she tells herself.

She scolds.

Grace doesn’t mean anything by it.

It's a label, and Grace doesn't do labels anymore.

“I... I wasn’t mad at you, Grace,” she finally admits. It's easier to do than questioning the extent to which her roommate would give up the world for her, but all the same, her voice is frighteningly weak, a pale imitation of everything Frankie usually projects herself to be: confident, cheerful, unshakeable, unshaken. Suddenly, it hits her that it’s been a very long time since she’s been so openly vulnerable, too. “I'm not even really all that mad at your jailbird husband either. I was just scared, and when I get scared, I skitter like a nervous little bug."

She shuts down.

She spirals.

She tries to put a smile on her face for the people who love her all the same.

And then she lies awake at night, drowning in the sheets of an empty bed.

Thinking about how she should probably tell someone that everything hurts.

But she’s Frankie, and she doesn’t do that.

Grace perpetually convinces herself that she doesn’t deserve honesty; Frankie has come to fear that no one wants her own.

“Were you scared of me?” Grace asks quietly, her grip so tight now that it almost stings.

“Frankie…” She presses when a few heartbeats of silence stagger by, limping painfully on all fours, pronouncing so many unspoken and profound hurts.

“Of losing you, Grace,” she confesses, the words defeated and scraped raw. She forcefully tugs her hand away from Grace's just to temple her own hands together on her lap, to lick her sundry and shining wounds in a private corner. “I was scared of losing you, of being alone again in this big, empty house… and I don’t like being alone.”

She can’t bear to look at Grace as she says it, staring at the paint-flecked floor without ever really seeing it, her eyes burning.

She wishes they’d stop burning but feels the precise moment when they begin to leak anyway.

It’s all so embarrassing.

And childish.

Frankie is an eighty-year old woman, and she shouldn’t be upset over her best friend having a goddamn life.

She should be happy for her, fucking ecstatic.

And yet, she's—

But before she can complete the miserable thought, her body becomes aware of another sensation entirely—warm arms enveloping her from the side and inexorably pulling her in, turning the space that once existed between two bodies—between them—intangible, negligible.

Grace.

Shock turns into realization, and realization transforms into aching, sweeping relief.

It can only be Grace.

Grace’s soft lips pressed to her cheek.

Grace’s fingertips curling into the fabric of her dress.

Grace’s nose against her neck as she slides her sharp chin across her shoulder.

“I’m not leaving you, Frances Bergstein,” she declares. “Whatever happens between me and Nick, in the end, it’s going to be just you and me in this house that is our damn home. I swear that to you. I’d tell you every day just to prove it to you.”

Oh, these words.

These beautiful, tender, and long-needed-to-hear words.

They’re just words, she could tell herself again.

She could lie.

She could convince herself if she had to.

She could conveniently forget that Grace Hanson uses language carefully, that she employs every sentence with scalpel-like precision.

Or... more complicatedly still... Frankie could believe her.

Frankie could blindly accept these words for what they are, as manifest confirmation that she is loved by another—prioritized and cared for and needed.

She could be Grace’s partner and let that incredible word be electrically charged with so many complex and ridiculous and extraordinary ideas, none of which are traditional, and all of which feel true.

She could believe in her even if belief is not simple, even if belief is a product, first and foremost, of trust.

And Grace has certainly lost her trust before, but goddammit, she's earned it so many times, too.

“Oh, God,” Frankie laughs in such a way that it’s stupidly clear that she’s crying as Grace rubs slow circles into her back with her thumb. “This is all messed up. You’re the one with a house arrested, tax evading husband. I should be the one comforting you.”

“The house arrested, tax evading husband doesn’t particularly faze me,” Grace chuckles, her voice low. “Seeing you hurting and upset does. My priorities are remarkably straight.”

“I’m not sure you know the meaning of that word,” she smiles weakly as they slowly and clumsily begin to extricate themselves from their tangled embrace.

It’s hard to find themselves again.

To be apart.

“But I do,” Grace protests, emphatic and indignant and maybe even a few shades righteously pissed. “You’re the person I wanna share this crazy life with at the end of the day and every day. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because every day is an incredibly long time to be with me,” Frankie offers meekly, giving her one more perfect and easily acceptable copout, a neatly packaged excuse.

She can be too much.

She knows this.

“It’s just the right amount of time to be with you,” Grace murmurs, reaching up to brush an errant tear away from Frankie’s cheek, her thumb lingering, her quivering palm. “You’re kind enough to love me, and I’m lucky enough to be loved by you... so let me return the favor, Frankie. Let me be here for you."

And to Grace’s credit in this fleeting moment, she continues to hold Frankie.

It's a promise to never let her go.

#grace and frankie #grace hanson #frankie bergstein #grace x frankie #grace and frankie spoilers #reginianwrites #s: grace and frankie

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betelguwuse · 3 years

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I’m starting to think maybe I don’t want to get married. Hypothetically I’d love to be in a godly marriage with a man who respects me and sees me as the person that God does (and not only me but women as a whole), but realistically do christian men like that even exist? Mainstream christianity, especially gender discourse, is so watered down and twisted into something that’s more political than biblical. I feel like this is gonna piss off both the christians and feminists, even though I’m both (though some might say I’m not a real feminist, whatever idc lol). Might also tag as Side B because I feel like this is also maybe a Side B mood? But here goes.

Color coded by vague topic, bolded so it’s easier to read.

Like I recently heard of a pastor being criticized for saying it’s a woman’s duty to look good for her husband, and the boomer conservatives were acting like criticisms of this pastor was the end of christianity. There’s no way “looking good” in a biblical sense was anything more than basic hygiene, nowhere near the beauty standards of today; and that is if the idea of looking good for your husband is even in the bible. These people siding with the pastor were saying that any woman who doesn’t shave or hide her “flaws” with makeup or basically completely embody the tradwife meme are bad wives. Like what the literal hell.

Honestly the entire tradwife aesthetic seems to be the goal for a lot of young christian couples, when it’s not inherently biblical. I used to be into it myself because heck yeah staying home, housekeeping, taking care of children, and wearing cute flowery dresses sounds like a dream. But my goals aren’t universal! Some women don’t want kids. Some women want to work. Good and God-honoring women of the bible didn’t all have kids and stay home. I mean the timeline of the bible spans so long, so yeah maybe there were times when most women did. But that doesn’t mean women who didn’t were bad wives or lesser women. Not to mention there’s such a blurred line currently between cute tradwife lifestyle and creeps who fetishize the idea of a traditional (and by traditional they mean submissive) wife. Gross.

Another thing too many christian men do is say women can’t be in any position of power in the church. There is the whole specific issue of whether or not women should be the highest up actual pastor of the church, and I don’t know enough about that whole debate to validate or debunk it, but I’m not talking about that specifically here. Aside from that one position, a lot of christians think women can only teach other women and girls but not guys, even like literal child boys. That’s so weird, like imagine thinking a little boy has more authority than, or even equal to, a grown woman? Couldn’t be me. And this whole idea comes from an out of context “I do not permit women to speak in the church” from a regular human guy. And the reason he said this was that the women around him were spreading heresy. I still think it’s flawed logic to exclude all women from speaking in that situation just because most of them were wrong, but again, this wasn’t a command from God. This was just a guy recording his church experience and doing his flawed human best to manage it. Various women throughout the actual bible outside of this one leader’s timeline held positions of power in various churches. And modern day american christian men think biblical womanhood is all about subservience? Bro what bible are you reading?

I just want to make it clear that these are all just generalizations, but having been in various actual biblical communities and conservative christian communities, I can kinda pick up on the general sexist behaviors of the latter. But unfortunately in today’s political climate more and more young christians are only being exposed to political opinions that are surface level americanized good christian morals, but not actually biblical.

Even on top of that, even if a man knows of these biblical misconceptions, we live in a society. Like we’re constantly exposed to women’s sexualization, and it’s pretty impossible to escape that. I don’t want to spend my life with someone who’s grown up in a world where women are seen as weak, objects, pleasure machines, etc. And yeah we can unlearn these biases (honestly I hate the word unlearn but I can’t think of a substitute rn), but it feels like a hassle to casually figure out whether a guy can make an effort to understand what women go through, and if I were to just bring it up I’d scare them away. And that’s not to say I’m some perfect person who’s never sexualized men, we are all sinners after all and we live in a fallen world etc etc. But a whole society where women are so objectified that it’s normal for little boys to be watching porn, that just doesn’t really happen with little girls. I can’t speak for all women, but when I started seeing men sexually it was in my late teens when I realized like ‘oh I can sexualize men too? wild. ok I’m an adult lemme check it out’. Still sinful, but not ingrained in me from porn ads as a kid the way most young boys have been since like the creation of the internet.

Even the men currently in my life who genuinely want what’s best for me are so incredibly misogynistic it’s baffling. My male family members see any woman who breaks an imaginary dress code or ideology is some kind of deviant. I just want to make it clear that this is MY family and I’M the only one who gets to complain about them. We all love each other here even if the males are horribly wrong.

So I shaved my head for halloween and my dad could barely look at me, not because he was exactly mad or anything but just because I looked ugly to him. He always says ‘close the windows in your apartment because men will spy on you changing’ but after my hair was gone he was all ‘actually don’t bother because nobody will look at you looking like that’ like wow I wasn’t aware men only sexualized women for their hair. Like you really think a gross creeper is gonna be turned off by a fully naked oblivious vulnerable woman just because she’s bald? That’s not how any of this works. And just today my sister was watching a goth youtuber egirl or something, I didn’t see her makeup but my dad said stuff like ‘ew why does she look like that, maybe it’d be cool as a costume but how is she going to get a job’. Like, I’m not one to go ‘women don’t wear makeup for men’ (because most women who only use makeup to hide their insecurities and follow beauty standards very much just do it so they don’t get backlash from others, if not directly to please men), but when it’s a fun crazy look that’s not meant to be pretty, I’m all for that shit and generally I hate when men lose respect for a woman just for wearing something they don’t like. Like fashion isn’t real and your appearance should be as costumey or weird as you want without people losing respect for you. Also like...do men know that makeup isn’t permanent?? Like if she wanted a job that required no makeup she could easily wipe her face off and get one?? Not only that, but people can work from home and/or be self employed. Maybe youtube itself was this girl’s job. Who the hell cares man. And the worst thing here is my brother outright said one time “the root cause of feminism is pride”. B r u h. And this was back when I considered myself an anti-feminist, even then I knew that feminism started for good reason and I was absolutely furious. I think I kept it to myself like a coward lol, but if anyone said that to me now I’d tear them apart. In a debate I mean, not like literal violence.

Tldr: I’m not trying to say men are inherently more evil because there’s evil in everyone, but the way it takes shape in men in most societies is so insidious and inescapable. I love my family and guy friends, but I don’t want to deal with one in a romantic/sexual relationship because I don’t know if even the most educated and goodest christian boi in this world can see me as a true equal. It sucks because I want sex and children, but when the mainstream idea of hetero sex is female submission, it just makes me shrivel up and contemplate becoming a nun. I’m not even catholic. But even nuns are sexualized and degraded in coomer’s disgusting brains. In conclusion I’m going feral and starting my own woman-only church in the woods let’s go ladies.

#christianity #biblical womanhood #christian woman #christian feminism #feminism #side b #side b christian

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 4 years

Text

kim taehyung / reader [f]

genre: royal/fantasy au, arranged marriage au, serpent prince!taehyung, priestess!reader, very soft romance, slow burn

warning(s)!!: slow burn (there is a lot of backstory oof), insecurity, jealous taehyung (who isn’t completely aware he’s jealous), heartache (a lot i’m sorry), hurt/comfort, almost nudity or translucent wet clothes, attempt at picking a fight/no-good townsfolk, past kidnap attempts, very minor depictions of violence, very breif mention of death, taehyung cries oops, y/n loves so much it hurts, taehyung being the most devoted boy to ever devote, obvs. religious themes (i.e. prayers, worship, offerings etc.), the royal family isn’t toxic and is in fact very sweet, jungkook is featured as a monk who refuses to cut his hair

w.count: 16.6k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: PG-15 ]

synopsis: When he was born, Prince Taehyung was marked as the Serpent King’s Descendant with the mark of scales on his chest to prove it. As he grew up, he was appointed a playmate who would soon be training in the royal shrine as a maiden because of her unusually large spiritual power. They were pronounced engaged when Taehyung was just shy of his teenage years by royal command and he did nothing to fight the arrangement. Now, you’re a grown woman and head of the shrine as the Center Priestess and devotee to the shrine and royal family with a heart filled almost too full of love for your future husband-to-be. When the wedding is announced and a ball is held in an advanced celebration you wonder, does your fiancé really want to marry you? Or is he just following his father’s royal orders? You don’t know what your heart can't take more: the idea of being rejected and unloved, or never knowing the true feelings of Prince Taehyung’s heart.

t.list bc @lysannnnaa & @bella-victoria002 wanted to be notified when it was posted!

The Serpent King was an old mythical king of ages that had stories upon stories spun about him.

He was a man given the powers of a great sea serpent and among his journey to harness his powers and grow as the future king he knew he was destined to become, he traveled far and wide until he came upon an island. This island was completely devoid of creatures- be it human or animal- aside from a giant snake he had found lay sleeping in a cave by the sea. The Serpent King decided to make this island his home- and began to craft and build his kingdom to which he would rule- the snake by his side.

Years passed and soon there it was, the kingdom the Serpent King had dreamt of. However, before he could see it continue to grow and prosper, he fell ill and weak. Dying on his bed surrounded by his people and the snake that had accompanied him in his goals, he prayed that the power in which he possessed would one day be reborn inside a new future king.

The mighty island was named by the late Serpent King as the Hissing Isle. When he passed, the kingdom took not to grieving, but to work and worship. They built a shrine alongside the castle he had crafted. Created memorials to which townsfolk and the occasional visitor may visit and pray to. Monuments of him with a giant snake wound around his body. His people continued his kingdom and a new royal family was chosen and so the generations passed; everyone waiting until the next Serpent King would be born.

His companion snake was never seen again, rumor spreading that it took the to seas to watch over the island because it’s master was in the sky among the heavens.

Centuries later, the royal castle was in full bustle as the queen had gone into labor unexpectedly. Ushering her to a delivery room in the medical wing of the castle, the king not far behind as he left his work and notes in his study at the news of his wife. Servants very quickly scurried about in panic for the arrival of the new royal child.

It was an agonizing five hours later when the new baby prince was born. However, among the servants and the spiritual monk with the king and queen, none spoke. The room was silent aside from the cries of the newborn baby- the same baby who had a mark on his chest. A mark that was small, just the size of his newborn fist and detailed so delicately as a patch of scales.

The king shed a tear as he smiled at his wife, holding her hand to soothe and congratulate her on a well done delivery of her first child. The baby was soon cleaned and swaddled in a bundle of the softest cloth before the queen was requesting to hold her son. As he was placed in the woman’s arms, she smiled down at him as he instantly calmed. The king sat beside the two, his hand on his queen’s leg as they both looked at the mark on their son once more.

The Serpent King had finally chosen a new spirit to gift power to. Reincarnated into this small, healthy baby prince hundreds upon hundreds of years into the future. Serpent Prince Kim Taehyung, that is his name.

Two years after the young prince was born, another baby was born with special powers. Born in a brilliant blue aura and a strong, healthy body, a shrine monk had been shocked speechless at the amount of rare spiritual energy the newborn infant possessed. It was decided among the few hours after her birth, that this baby girl would grow to be a magnificent shrine priestess and when the time would call for it, her training to harness her abilities would begin.

Both the serpent blooded prince and the infant priestess would soon grow into bodies that would learn many things and experience many occasions and emotions. First, however, they would need to meet.

“Y/n, come here for a spell,” your mother called for your attention as you sat at a small open chest filled with small wooden toys and bells and ribbons you had been gifted. It had been four years since you were born and to you, your life had just started as your memory finally started allowing you to retain information and people’s faces.

Your mother stood at the door to your room in her dress of a distasteful shade of brown that laced around her stomach to shrink her waist and strapped over her shoulders. The dress trapped the off shoulder white blouse she wore over her torso as her hair was braided along the back of her head, pinned up and out of the way.

You looked back over your small shoulder still dressed in your pale yellow nightgown that reached your ankles with sleeves that covered your entire hand to your fingertips when you stood. Hair unkempt and unbrushed from sleep, as you had woken up and immediately took to your toy chest to occupy your time until you were fetched by your single parent.

Standing, you abandoned your trinkets as you rushed to your mother’s side. Grabbing her skirt in your fists and pushing your face into the fabric of her dress, giggling at the warm embrace she gave you. Her hands pushed on your shoulders and back as she leaned to greet you a good morning.

“Good morning, my dearest little girl,” your mother cooed as you lifted your face from her skirt and smiled up at her. You were always a shy child, but she hoped now that you were more aware of your surroundings, you would grow out of your shyness. She gently pushed you away just enough so she could kneel on the floor in front of you, brushing your messy hair out of your face with her fingers. “We have to get you dressed. Today is a very big day,” she told you.

“What does that mean, mommy?” You asked, your small voice pitched and as sweet as song bells to your mother’s ears. How she loved the sound of your voice.

“It means, dearest, that you’re going to meet someone who will become your friend today.” The woman watched your puffy child-fat-cheeks, extend in a pout as you frowned. “Now,” she started, softly but sternly, “do not pout like that. It would make me very happy if you would play with another child.”

“Well,” your small voice started as your pout lessened, “if mommy wants me to, I can try.” your mother smiled as she gently kissed your forehead. You were only four, but you were very kind and gentle, and smarter than you thought.

“That’s my girl,” she encouraged as she backed you up into your room to ready you for the day. Placing you in a dress the color of daffodils that reached just past your knee and the long sleeves open at the shoulders, your mother messed with your head.

You admired your dress in the standing mirror in your room. Ruffles of soft yellow running around your skirt and the white fabric on your chest dotted with small flowers. Hair now brushed and pinned only partially back with a flower clip, your mother was soon sliding flat, black shoes over your feet. “You look beautiful, dearest,” she cooed as she kissed your cheek.

“Mommy’s way more pretty than me!” You cheered as she stood and you took her hand, letting her lead you out of your room.

You had lived in the castle your entire life, but only recently did you start remembering the layout of the massive royal home. You often remembered going to the shrine more often than not, feeling so peaceful and calm inside the shrine’s walls. The fountain inside with a statue of a man and a snake always seemed warm to you.

Your mother walked slowly at your side as you clung to her hand the entire journey from your room, down the halls, past servants and guards alike until she came to stand at a grand, red doorway. You gripped her hand tighter, nerves bubbling in your small stomach.

She offered two easy knocks that reverberated through the halls, bouncing off the walls in echoes that seemed so loud you wanted to cover your ears.

“Majesty, it is Lily of the Shrine Courts. I have brought my daughter as you have asked,” she announced to the closed door. You thought her crazy until a voice echoed from behind the doors offering her entrance into the room beyond the red entrance. She looked down at you before smiling. “Do not worry, I will be with you the whole time,” she assured as you nodded, unaware of who was going to be inside.

She pushed the door open with loud, aching creaks as you followed her in. your young eyes were wide as you looked around the room you had entered with your mother. Large, wide and open with a single red carpet with gold trim lining the floor from the door to a set of 5 steps with thrones sitting atop them. There were three, dark wooden thrones in your line of sight.

One on the far left was the biggest of the three. Glorious and plush with red cushions that looked like you could jump on and sink right into the cushion. Gold trim surrounded the cushions as golden tassels hung from the arm rests of the throne.

The middle throne was much less extravagant and smaller in size, but still as beautiful as the one before. With A fanned, three curved humps at the top of the back and red cloth that hung from the cushion like a bed-skirt over a box spring.

The third, was just about the same size as the middle one. Resembling both the first and second, it was like a hybridized fashion of the first two- a child of the two thrones so to speak.

In two of those three thrones, sat two adults. In the first, glorious throne was a man dressed in black, gold and purple with a fur lined robe over his shoulders. A golden, magnificent crown sat along his head. Next to him was a woman, a small tiara sat atop her pinned and folded hair as her dress was a soft purple and flowed so elegantly you knew without touching it that the fabric would be soft.

You knew without a doubt it was the king and queen of Hissing Isle. The royal family that lived in Serpent Castle. You had never truly met them face to face before, and you thought your legs were going to freeze then collapse.

Your mother soon came to a respectful halt a fair distance in front of the steps leading up to the thrones before she lowered her chest in a deep bow. In theory you would have copied your mother, but you simply couldn’t move due to the nerves rampaging through your body.

The queen looked at you with a smile on her face as she soon rose from her throne and picked up the floor length gown as she revealed her jeweled heels as she stepped carefully down the steps and soon was approaching you both. You jolted as you felt your mother’s hand on the back of your head.

The queen was soon kneeling in front of you, her graceful beauty within arms reach, but all you could do is stare in wide-eyed awe and anxiousness.

“You have a lovely daughter, Lady Lily,” the queen's smooth, rich voice spoke to your mother even though she was looking at you. She reached out her hand as she brushed the back of her finger across her cheek and through your freshly brushed hair as you gulped. “Hello, sweetheart,” she softly called.

“Hello,” you croaked out as the hand of your mother’s brushed along the back of your head, soothing you.

“Do you know why you’re here this morning, child?” You nodded your head at the queen’s question “There are many things you are destined for, small lady. First, my husband and I would like to introduce you to another child just a couple years older than you. We hope you both can become friends.” You silently nod once again, still gripping onto your mother’s dress like a lifeline.

The queen stands back up and steps away from you as she exchanges words with your mother. You look around the throne room and back behind the curtains that drape behind the set of thrones you see a faint silhouette. You shuddered, thinking it was one of those shadow monsters you see in the corner of your vision.

You jolt when the shadow seems to have locked eye contact with you. You tug on your mother’s dress and reach to grab her hand as you look up towards her. She’s soon looking down at you, her precious child with eyes that can see almost too well, before she is grabbing your hand back tightly in hers.

“What is it, dearest?” You crush your face into the fabric of her dress as you feel her leg behind it. “Y/n,” she cooed, trying to have you behave just a bit better in front of the royal family.

“There’s a shadow in here,” you muttered as you felt her other hand on your head again, avoiding snagging her fingernails into your clipped hair. “Behind those big chairs, there’s a shadow,” you whine. Both your mother and the queen turn to look behind the set of glorious seats and the queen only smiles at the ‘shadow’ you had seen.

“Oh my,” the queen breathed, “why are you hiding back there again, Taehyung,” the queen called. You looked up from the fabric of your mother’s skirt as you peered around her to see the shadow move- making you jump. Soon, a young boy was walking out of the shadows, dressed in a black shirt and pants with a golden vest of thick embroidered shoulders and hems on his small framed torso. His blonde hair shining like a star. Your body relaxed- it wasn’t a shadow after all.

“I apologize for her,” your mother addressed and you instantly felt guilty. Your mother was apologizing because you jumped to conclusions because you weren’t able to tell the shadows from people yet; these shadows only just started appearing in your vision recently and they scared you. “Her eyes can see more than what others can, so she hasn’t learned spirits from humans yet.”

“I see the rumors about her abilities are true then,” from behind the queen, the king who had been sitting in silence had finally spoken. “I can feel her spiritual pressure even from here, and she’s of such young age. You should be proud of your daughter, Lady Lily.” The king rose from his throne as he descended the steps and called the child boy over to his and the queen’s side.

Soon, the king and queen stood in front of you as the young boy stood between them. You didn’t need to be told that this was their child- the prince of whom you knew of but had also never met. The look in his dark eyes made you shiver, like he wasn’t a happy child. But, the royal family was so kind and made you feel warm- why would his eyes look so grim then?

The king soon placed a large hand on the prince’s small shoulder.

“Young Y/n, as of today I would be honored if you would keep my son company.” You looked up at the king with a dropped jaw. The prince was the new friend your mother had told you about? You looked back down at the prince- his expression unchanged as if he was unhappy about your newfound company. Maybe that is why his eyes looked that way, he didn’t want a playmate. “Is that alright?” The king asked as if your four year old little heart had the gall to say no the royalty.

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked in shyness. “It’s alright,” you confirmed with your small, bell voice your mother always praised. It made the queen and king smile as the queen wrapped her arm around her son's shoulders, kneeling to his level and gaining his attention.

“Now, Taehyung,” she started softly, “Y/n is going to be your friend, so you treat her kindly, alright?” You jolted and sucked in a small breath when the prince looked back to you before returning his bland gaze to his mother.

“Yes, mother,” he muttered. The queen brushed back Taehyung’s hair and sent him off, out of the throne room. Soon, your mother was advising you to follow after him. With a small head pat from your mother and a gulp of attempted bravery, you trotted after the six-year-old prince who didn’t seem very happy to have a new friend.

It had been four days since you were assigned Prince Taehyung’s playmate and friend. You often spent time in the library reading while he studied, or walking behind him as he roamed through the gardens before sitting on a bench with a book, you sitting on the opposite end of the same bench.

Every night your mother would tuck you into bed and ask how your day with the prince was and you would always tell her the same thing. You were nothing but a duckling following around the royal prince as he never spoke to you even if you spoke to him. You feared he disliked you and you often sought your mother’s comfort as you would nearly cry at the thought of your first real friend hating you.

Every morning you’d wake up and pick out the prettiest dress and most eye-catching hair pins and ribbons to try and attract the prince’s attention. Even when you tried wearing shoes that clack with each step, he never even spared you a glance.

It was midday of the fifth day of being Taehyung’s new friend when you decided to try and be more aggressive with your mission you had dubbed: ‘make Prince Taehyung my friend’. You both sat in the library as he was scribbling in a book with another book open next to him. You had recognized the book he was studying today- a book of hymns from the past that are typically sung about or for the Serpent King’s spirit and the Sea Snake. You were currently being taught those same hymns by the shrine maidens and monks during the time you weren’t trailing Taehyung.

“Prince Taehyung,” you called softly, knowing he wouldn’t answer you. You swallowed your nervous breath as you pushed more words out instead of giving up instantly like the days prior. “Are you very interested in the Sea Snake and Serpent King hymns? If so, I can sing them for you,” you offered. You saw his fountain pen halt in his hand for just a moment before he resumed writing.

You almost smiled, that was proof he was listening to you- just ignoring you.

“You know,” you continued, stepped just ever so closer to the chair he sat in as his feet dangled, still far too short to reach the floor. “I’m being taught a lot of those from the shrine maidens. They said I need to know them because I’m going to become a shrine maiden one day too. They told me I’m going to be a priestess and that the hymns would be very important to know when I’m all grown up.”

He didn’t pay you any mind just as you were used to. You wracked your young mind to think as to why he was so uninterested in you. You’ve always wanted a friend around your age, and he was only two years older than you. He wasn’t so superior to you as a six-year-old that you had to be ignored. Maybe he was just a snobby prince? But, that didn't seem to fit him. The aura he gave off felt sad and calm to you- like he wanted something he just wasn’t getting, but staying to himself about it.

Then, you had a thought.

Prince Taehyung is the Serpent King’s descendant- his reincarnation as you were told- who was blessed with the ancient king’s blood. He would one day rule the kingdom and lead the Hissing Isle into a golden age- even more peaceful and prosperous than the Serpent Kingdom is right now.

“Prince Taehyung,” you addressed him again. You had gotten beside him and gently grabbed the cloth of his shirt around his elbow between your fingers. “Are you sad about being born like the Serpent King?” For the first time the child prince stopped his scribbling and the air around you changed.

It became tense and you felt like you were suffocating. Did you cross a line? Were you supposed to just keep your mouth shut and follow him like a little duckling for the rest of your childhood until he finally snapped and told you to leave him alone? You shivered. Would he snap now? Would he yell and tell you to be gone because you were prying into business that isn’t yours?

“Am I sad about being born this way?” The first sentence ever spoken to you from the prince’s mouth and it felt sharp as it hit your heart. “Am I sad about being told who I am and who I’m supposed to be? Am I sad about being so different that people can’t even use my name? Am I sad that I’m just ‘Serpent Prince Taehyung’?” He finally turned to look at you, his dark eyes lined with frustrated tears. “Wouldn’t you be sad about that?” He softly choked.

“Prince,” you called in a small breath, unable to recognize that the small prince had been carrying such a burden on his shoulders. Was he really outcast like he claims? True, when you followed him around, all people did was bow their head and offer praises of the blood of the serpent king.

“How are you okay with the shrine telling you who you’re destined to become?” He asked, turning away from the book full of hymns and swiveling to look at you standing next to him.

“Because my mom said I’d grow up to be a great priestess one day,” you spoke in a heavily whispered answer. “And my mom would never lie to me, so I believe her.”

“She’s planning your life for you. Doesn’t that make you mad? Shouldn’t you have the freedom to choose what you want?” This was the most the prince had ever spoken in your presence.

“I’m not mad,” you quickly deny. “I really like learning all the hymns and the dances the shrine is teaching me. I get to dance with bells and ribbons and sing songs that will help people when I grow up. I get scared of shadows and odd creatures I see, but the more I learn from the monks, the more I can face those scary things. I have so much fun with the shrine people, so I could never be mad about growing up like they say I will.” You let go of the prince's sleeves only to grab his hand hesitantly.

His hand is relaxed in yours, not moving to pull away or to return the gesture. You think you finally understand why the prince’s eyes are so sad. He’s scared of his future and feels trapped. You step closer to his chair, making him lean back as you got into his personal bubble that had never been popped before.

“If you’re unhappy, the king and queen would surely listen to you!” You announced with a brow furrowed in determination. “If you told you mom and dad, I’m sure they’d listen and accept whatever you said! My mom always tells me to tell her anything and as long as I’m honest, she’ll listen without anger. I’m sure your mom and dad think the same thing, Taehyung.”

His eyes were wide as you quickly spoke- throwing out his title in the spur of the moment. Advising him to go talk to his parents about his woes? Addressing him so boldly in an attempt to cheer him up after all he’s been doing for as long as he could remember is brood in the idea of his set in stone future? Could he really tell his parents that he was scared of letting them down? He was just a child, a small little six-year-old who was scared of disappointing his parents.

“I can’t tell them,” he whispered to himself more than you, trying to get the idea of speaking his mind out of his head. He couldn’t be selfish, not when so many people expect so much from him.

“Then, you can tell me and I’ll tell them for you!” You announced again. “You’re my friend, Taehyung, and if you can’t tell them, then I’ll do it for you.” The prince dropped his jaw as he looked into the total seriousness of your eyes. You meant it; every word you’ve said you have meant. You looked down at your hand when you felt the boy grip it back, holding your hand tightly.

“You don’t think they’d be mad at me?” His true colors of youth finally broke through. You smiled brightly at him as you shook your head. “Then, I guess I can try… later, at dinner maybe.” you saw a small hue paint his cheeks as you giggled at the sudden cute turn his demeanor took. “You said you knew some of these?” He asked, referring back to his book of hymns. You nodded as he got up, let go of your hand and fetched a new chair for you, setting it beside him as he climbed back into his. “Then, could you sing one?”

Your child-like voice of bells sang any hymn he could find you knew and he could feel the serpent blood in him react to it, reaching out to the songs it found so familiar.

Two years passed, and Taehyung had finally started becoming a prince he could be proud of. He had apologized to you and your mother for being so rude for the first week of your friendship, but since then, you and he were inseparable. He would often come to the shrine to see you practice your dances and listen to your songs.

The prince was smiling more and enjoying his studies. He often talked with his parents when he had troubles now, and he had accepted his role as the future king. He had thought he needed to be perfect in the past, and now he knew that as long as he did his best and never lied, it would all be alright. Failure kept him humble, but it would never hold him back like it once did before.

On your sixth birthday, your mother gifted you with your first shrine maiden robe. Of red and gold, it hung loosely around your shoulders and tied around your waist with a golden sash. A set of golden threads looped into small snakes on each lapel of your robe connected with a red thread across your chest.

When you were dressed in it, you were eager to show Taehyung, but first wanted to learn a dance to properly show the robe off. It was your first ever maiden robe and you had been training in the shrine for as long as you could remember now.

Your mother who was growing older every year laughed as you would occasionally stumble over the long robe’s fabric as you attempted to learn the way it moved with you. That evening, Taehyung had come to the shrine to see you, having not heard a word from you all day.

When he arrived however, you were fast asleep on the marble floor, resting against the side of the fountain placed inside the shrine of the purest sea water. A pyramid of bells rolled out of your palm as you sat peacefully asleep in your new robe.

“Good evening, Young Prince,” your mother greeted, making Taehyung jolt. “I’m sorry if you’ve come to see Y/n. My daughter practiced too hard it seems and fell asleep the moment she sat to rest.” Taehyung looked and watched you sleep against the fountain.

Over the course of your training and aging, he had felt your spiritual power grow alongside the power he felt in himself. He still remembers the day you finally broke him of his shell when you told him how you would train to be the proud priestess your mother said you’d be one day.

He smiled as he walked to you, lifting your lulled head up and placing it on his shoulder as he sat next to you on the shrine floor. He looked up at your mother who was stuck between telling the prince to not sit on the floor and to just wake you up.

“Do you mind if I sit with her for a while?” He asked as she just smiled.

“Stay as long as you’d like,” she told him before retreating back to the castle. She later returned with the queen by her side when dinner came around and the two just stifled laughs at the young prince’s head resting on yours, you both fast asleep.

A year passed and Taehyung had finally grown his serpent scales and eyes that would stick with him the rest of his life. Golden scales grew under his eyes as the dark shade of them brightened to a gold you found hypnotizing. He had initially hid his face from the palace, unable to show his scales. It took a whole afternoon of you sitting in his room with him to convince him that it was okay and that his new scales didn’t make him scary.

Ever since his scales and eyes came in, he had been able to hear you sing from wherever you were. You could be in the depths of the shrine and he could be on the opposite side of the castle and he could hear your songs and feel your messages. He could tell when you were sad or happy or sick or in pain with each song he heard. Able to convey your emotions through your songs, he wondered why it was he couldn’t hear any other people.

When The monks chanted their mantras or the other maidens and priestess’ sung, he couldn’t hear them. Only your voice was heard in his ears.

He had often spoken to his father, the king, about it. The king was unsure as to the reason as well, but passed it off as a result of your spiritual power and your control over it. However, it wasn’t until one afternoon that Taehyung realized that he could not only hear your songs from anywhere, but he could find out where you were located if your situation grew dangerous or dire.

You were in the palace gardens studying flowers and leaves as part of your training on what plants or herbs to dry and place as offerings to the Serpent King’s spirit. Placing herbs and flower petals inside of a clay bowl, you had heard someone approach you. Turning around, you saw two men dressed in foreign clothes you hadn’t seen before.

“Hello,” you greeted weakly as you stood on shaking feet. Your clay bowl in hand as they just look at each other. “I’ve never seen you before in the castle, what are you doing here?” You had gotten braver each year and as a proud standing nine-year-old, you were determined to figure out if these were the king’s visitors or uninvited guests.

“Little girl,” one of them spoke as it made your skin prick. “You are a priestess?”

“Uh, yes,” you squeaked. The moment one of them moved to reach behind into a pouch they kept on their hip, you panicked. Throwing the bowl of herbs, you closed your fist, extended your two first fingers and chanted a small protective spell. The herbs that flew towards the intruders caught fire and gave you just enough time to turn and run into the maze of hedges to hide.

Taking so many turns in the maze you had no idea the layout of, you were soon tucking yourself away in a corner, trying to hide in the shrubs as much as possible. With each rustle of the plants and wind you grew more and more tense.

You suddenly remembered a certain song you were taught recently that was instructed by the king for you to learn. It was a song of calling when in danger. If ever there was a time to test it, now was that time. So, under your breath you whispered weakly the lines of hymns you were taught.

Taehyung was in the study with his father when the air shifted outside. Looking out the window, he stared out into the open gardens of trees, flowers and bushes. Even further, he could see the open sea of his island kingdom. He wondered why the air felt heavy so suddenly. He felt suffocated and stuffy as he pulled at the collar of his turtleneck shirt.

The king noticed his son’s discomfort. “What is it?”

“It just got really stuffy in here,” the prince replied, “that’s all.” Yet as he returned to his lessons, the uneasiness in his chest didn’t stop. For minutes it lasted until your name flashed into his head like a siren as his skin pricked before he was hearing you sing again.

Taehyung jumped from his chair, pushing it back with enough force to kick it back onto the floor, startling the king close to him. Taehyung’s golden snake-like eyes were wide as they looked out the window beyond the palace walls.

The king slowly stood, unable to determine his son’s sudden burst of haste. “Taehyung,” he tried, but the prince’s attention wasn’t drawn.

“Y/n,” he whispered. He walked around the fallen chair and to the window, placing his palms on the glass panes as he looked down into the gardens. Flashes of the shrub maze playing in his subconscious as he listened to your shaky, fearful song play in his mind. He saw the faces of two strangers, a bowl of clay, fire and then your back retreating into the maze before he started to panic. “Father,” he called in haste as he turned to the king behind him. “There are intruders in the garden and they’re after Y/n.”

The king was quick to act. Immediately dispatching guards to the gardens to catch the uninvited guests before they caught you. Taehyung couldn’t settle down, even with his father trying to convince him it would be okay and that help was coming to you. It didn’t help calm his blood that screamed to find you first.

His gaze stuck outside, your voice still echoing in his head, your song replaying over and over again as your fear pounded in the center of his chest. He didn’t even register himself ripping his arms out of his father’s grasp as he ran out of the castle and into the gardens to find you himself, knowing exactly where you were.

It was two hours later when the culprits of your attempted abduction were caught and imprisoned, followed by a party of castle guards finally locating your hiding spot. Only, they were shocked to see that Taehyung had been crouched in front of you, holding your head on his chest as you cried before eventually falling asleep.

It was hard to explain to his parents and your mother how he could hear your songs, and feel your emotions. It was even harder to explain how he was able to know exactly where you were and know what had happened as if he had been there himself. It was that very evening that the king had made a decision that would affect you both in the coming years.

“Y/n,” Taehyung had called as you were knelt in the shrine, hands clasped together before you lowered your arms and looked over your shoulder to your prince. You were ten-years-old now while Taehyung was nearly in his teenage years. You both were nearly the same height as you stood to come to his call.

You nearly felt your cheeks blush in the presence of your beloved prince. Ever since you were nine and nearly kidnapped from the castle gardens, Taehyung had become increasingly more protective over you. This in turn created a delusional crush you held for the royal heir. You had to be careful of your songs so that he wouldn’t catch on to your feelings each morning and evening when you sang songs of greeting and farewell to the sun and sea.

“Yes?” You waited as you came to stand in front of him. “Do you need something from me Taehyung? I thought you had archery this morning?” You tilted your head in curiosity as he quickly took your hand in his, something he started a year ago so that he could always feel you behind him. “Taehyung?”

“Father and mother have called us to the audience chamber.” Your mouth opened in question as your mother came up behind you. Taehyung was quick to greet her. “Good morning, Lady Lily.”

“A fine morning to you, young Prince.” Your mother soon placed her hand on your back, silently ushering you on. “You can finish your morning devotions after your audience with the king and queen. It is alright,” she smiled. She seemed to know something you didn’t, like she knew what the call of presence was for. Though, you couldn’t ask because of Taehyung quickly pulling you out of the shrine with him.

“Your morning hymn was lovely,” he told you as he entered the castle’s second floor, taking your hands and helping you up the staircase so you wouldn’t trip on your long gown.

“Do you think so?” You asked, wavering on how you sang this morning. “I had thought my sound wasn’t as clear as before.”

“You improve everyday. Perhaps if you feel it needs improvement, sip water from the shrine’s fountain. That will certainly cleanse your throat and replenish any diminished power,” he advised. Typically, one would not be allowed to access the sea water of the shrine’s fountain, however you were the exception to that rule.

You never knew why, but the day Taehyung offered you a small sip of the fountain’s sea water to ease your aching throat, you were permitted exclusive access to the sea’s blessed water. As, if you weren’t granted permission, that small sip of pure ocean water would have spread like poison and certainly taken your life.

As Taehyung led you to the audience chamber, you grew nervous. Just what could the monarchs of your Isle be calling you about? Were you not doing a good enough job as a training maiden? Were you lacking somehow? Or perhaps you were going to be told to stop hanging around Taehyung, the future king, as often because of his coming of age. The idea of being torn from Taehyung made your heart ache.

“Do not be nervous,” he told you, squeezing your hand. You swallowed the lump in your throat, only nodding before he knocked on the chamber door, announced himself and you, before walking inside with you in tow.

The queen and her husband sat in the two tallest, iron chairs behind the long, table in the large room. They watched you both enter hand in hand, just as they had seen you do before. As the heavy door shut behind your back, Taehyung led you to a chair across from his parents. Sitting you down first, he then takes his own seat beside you. His choice of opting to sit beside you instead of his parents confused you for a moment until he took your hand in his again beneath the iron table top.

“I apologize for interrupting your morning session, Y/n,” the queen softly called. Though aged from the first time you met her, she was still carrying herself with the same grace and beauty you had remembered all those years ago.

“It’s alright, Majesty. My mother is finishing up the offering with the monks and I can return to the shrine to finish my devotion before midday.” Your voice was rigid from you trying to keep your nervousness undetected. You felt Taehyung’s hand tighten in your grip as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. You had to strain to hear the royal family’s words over the sound of your heart in your ears.

“We won’t keep you long,” the king announced. He looked at you and then to his son before he closed his eyes. His hands came up to rest in front of his mouth, fingers interlaced as his elbows rested on the iron table. “Would you say you enjoy my son’s company, Y/n?” The king’s directness made you jolt. With the smallest pink tinted cheeks, you glanced at Taehyung, seeing him only looking at his father with inquisitive eyes.

“I would. I greatly enjoy the Prince’s company.” You answered with a smile that spread unconsciously to the set of royal parents in front of you when you directed your gaze back to the pair.

“As you know,” the queen started in place of her husband, “Taehyung is the heir to the Serpent King; however, as you may have noticed, our son has a special connection with you particularly.” You lifted your eyebrow at this. Since when had the prince and you had a special connection? In truth, Taehyung never told you that he could feel what you feel when you sing and can pinpoint your location as your voice carries to the sky like a beacon. His grip in your hand falters.

“Mother,” he warned. He didn’t want you to know in fear that you would find it invasive. What if you found out and you hated it and locked up your voice in retaliation? He thought his heart would shrivel up and die if you stopped singing.

“Our son is able to hear your songs from any location on the island, we believe that it’s due to not only your bond you’ve built over the years, but also your spiritual power.” You remained silent as you took in the information. You had known Taehyung could hear you, but from such a wide scope? That shocked you. “Taehyung and you share a special bond, that much we are certain, so my husband and I spoke with Lady Lily.”

Your back straightened as the mention of your mother. “You spoke with my mother? About what, might I ask?”

“It is our intent to have you both become engaged to marry.”

You felt your heart stop at the king’s declaration. Engaged to marry? You and Taehyung? Your heart began to speed up, doing somersaults in your chest as your grip on the prince’s hand slacked. You turned to look at the preteen prince.

“Me, marry the-,” you cut yourself off, unable to speak the words. Your young cheeks flushed hot when Taehyung turned to look at you, pulling your hand tighter against his under the table. Making up for the space you created when you pulled away. His golden eyes burned into yours as he then turned back to his father.

“I’m willing to go through with it,” the young prince announced, shocking you. “That is,” he turned his sights back to you, a soft smile on his face replacing his previous look, “if Y/n agrees as well.” The queen had to hide a smile behind the back of her hand as your face wouldn’t cool down. You looked down to the hand he held out of his parents’ sight before taking a breath.

It wouldn’t be selfish to want this- you look back up at him with hopeful eyes- right? Smiling back after a heartbeat or two, you turned to his parents and lowered your head.

“I’m honored by the royal families decision. If you’ll accept me, I agree to the arrangement as well.” A small talk about formalities and official announcements of the engagement later and you and Taehyung were dismissed back to your daily routine. However, everything felt shifted now.

As Taehyung led you back to the shrine, you stayed absolutely silent- something the prince noticed. You were always talking to him about something, but now you were speechless and it made him nervous. He wasn’t even holding your hand anymore, because the moment you both stood to leave the audience chamber, you had let him go.

“I’ll properly thank your mother when I see her next,” he told you suddenly in the empty hall he walked with you down. “Since I’m your fiance now, it’d be rude if I didn’t thank her for her permission to marry you.”

“Ah, right,” you made a small noise before acknowledging him. He stopped in the hall and sighed, turning to you.

“So, it is the engagement that’s making you so quiet.” You shrunk, not wanting to be a problem. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to agree to it, then-”

“No!” You screech, immediately covering your mouth. You cleared your throat, looking around to see if anyone had seen your outburst and gathered your thoughts. Your heart wouldn’t stop beating and your stomach felt fuzzy from the speed of it all. “It’s just happening so fast,” you breathed, “that’s all. Really, I don’t mind.”

“Are you positive?”

“Yes, I am.” It was an odd sensation when Taehyung pulled you into his chest to hug you. He had held you before. When you were lost in the maze, when you were sleepy during your lessons he attended with you out of curiosity, when you both hid from castle guards who were trying to coerce you both back inside. This time was different though.

“Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to change,” he assured you. As you lifted your arms to hug him back, you knew why it was so different and why any embrace from him would be different from now on.

Because every time from this point on, forever, would be an embrace shared between betroths.

You took a deep breath of the ocean air as the ship you were aboard grew closer to the docks of your beloved Isle. You were returning home after a trip to the mainland to familiarize further with their culture and step closer to establishing a lasting treaty. You weren’t exactly pleased forming relations with the world outside of your island home, but in the end it had to be done.

On a positive note, you were returning with all sorts of new herbs and dried meat, roots and fruits that Hissing Isle didn’t have. They would surely work well as offerings and if not, a fine snack for the castle.

“Lady Y/n!” Someone called as you turned to look for the call. A young man dressed in stained white and brown clothes and a bandanna around his waist had been the one calling. “The ship will dock in just a little while. Please prepare your things for departure. I’m sure the Prince is eagerly waiting for your return.” The man offered you a polite, if not playful, wink before he was scampering off.

A lot has happened since you had gotten engaged to the Serpent Prince twelve years ago. Your twenty-second birthday had just passed as you stood on the side of the ship, your bag of belongings and mainland offers on your back.

When you were twenty, you had surpassed your trainers and taken over the shrine as the Central Priestess. Your abilities to harness and use your spiritual powers in both offensive and defensive strategies still awed some. In fact, you planned to use your power to enforce a barrier around the island as soon as you could. Bringing back a sacred dokkosho from the mainland, you planned to use it- combined with your powers- to protect the island from malicious intruders.

However, years have not always been so kind to you. Among those years, you still wish your young mother was around to see you flourish into the priestess she had known you to be. She had fallen ill when you were eighteen and she did not last the year. You still remember how your heart broke as Taehyung shushed and held you for days upon days, as you could do nothing but cry and mourn. You could not even sing her farewell through your tears.

As the sea breeze blew through your hair and whipped at the long, loose sleeves of your dress, you smiled as the sight of your home growing closer. Your dress was off your shoulder, loose around your chest and tied with a brown sash around your waist as the skirt fell to your ankles. It was a simple dress and not at all what you would typically wear when fulfilling your role as isle priestess, but it was yours.

When the ship docked and your feet finally hit land again, you let out a breath of air. It had only been a month, but you felt like you had been away for far too long now. While you were gone, you had left the shrine in the hands of a monk who had come from the mainland years back. His skills were exceptional, but his playful attitude always left you a bit nervous.

“Lady Y/n!” The same man from before had called as you had stepped off port. You turned and quickly caught something he had tossed towards you. Looking, it was a ripe apple. “Come travel with us again soon,” he offered as you smiled at him.

“I’ll look forward to the next time then,” you bowed your head as you headed off. Heading through town, you were met with small smiles and children running to hold your hand and welcome you back home. In your small kingdom, you were well known as the main priestess and many would come to you for advice. Your position as Taehyung’s fiance added to the warmth of the island-folk.

However, not all were as kind as most.

A young girl hung off your arm as you humored her with your attention as a drunken man cut off your path. Your destination towards the castle temporarily halted. Typically, you would brush past him, however the young girl at your side only shrunk away at the sight of his disheveled appearance.

You knew this man, of course. He often gave you a rough time, unable to swallow his bit-swollen pride and accept orders from a woman who technically wasn’t of royal blood. Spending all his time and money in taverns, you were certain if you wounded him, booze would pour out of his body instead of blood.

“May I help you?” You sneered, tilting your chin and looking at him in a collected, calm warning.

“It’s a shame the mainland princes’ didn’t want to keep you over there,” he slurred. “Do us a lotta good if you stayed put on the other side of the sea.” You remained calm as you took a breath. You looked down to the young girl who clung to you. This man was not only well known to you, but to the rest of the castle town. He wasn’t exactly too well liked because of his attitude.

When he saw the little girl staring at his stubble, unshaven face, he sneered. “What are you looking at brat? Huh?!” The verbal attack to the youth was cut short when something was thrown at the drunkard’s head. Stumbling back in an over-dramatic fit of drunken balance, he looked at the ground. There lay a single, red apple.

“Even among a basket of perfect fruit, there always has to be one bad apple it seems.” Your arm was lifted, the only needed evidence the drunkard needed to know you had thrown the fruit at him. “I suggest you direct your disgust elsewhere and not towards the Isle’s youth. They will determine in the future to help or neglect you. You’d be wise to not mistreat them.”

“Why you stuck up-” the man had stomped towards you, harshly pushing you back as he grabbed the front of your dress into his fist. The child on your side was knocked away as she started to cry for the man to let you go as he just growled into your face. His breath was horrid, teeth yellow and skin tinged sickly.

“If you keep drinking, you’ll last no longer than the season,” you calmly told him even in the state you were being held in.

“My lady!” the little girl cried, as a crowd started to gather in a murmur. You knew better than to fight back, it was against your views to harm your people- even if they act so grotesque towards you. You would only tell yourself to grin and bear it.

There was a sudden hush over the crowd before they could even begin to act on freeing you from the no-good drunkard, and it was without surprise as to why. The man was grabbed by the back of his shirt collar as it was yanked back, the shirt riding up to his neck and thrusting him into cut-off, breathless panic.

His grip on your dress released immediately as he was yanked backward until he fell over his feet onto his back on the stone roads. His eyes were squeezed shut and were only opened when the one who had pulled him back and off you squats to come closer to his face. The man froze at the pair of golden eyes glaring down at him with brilliant matching scales under them.

“I do believe I’ve told you before that the next time you harass my priestess, I wouldn’t let it slide,” Taehyung sneered as the little girl had rushed back to your side, hugging you around the waist as you placed your hand on her shoulders. “Stay on the ground,” he demanded as the drunkard only nodded weakly as the prince stood back up and looked at you. Your dress was stretched and messed up around your chest now.

Yet, you smiled warmly to him nonetheless.

“Welcome home, Y/n,” he greeted as he came to your side. He smiled down to the child in front of you, petting her head. “How about I take her home from here?” He told the little girl as she ran off back to her home, leaving the crowd to disperse and the drunkard to be picked up off the road and taken back to the castle by a set of guards that were stationed in town. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him first thing after returning.”

“It’s nothing I couldn’t have handled,” you reassured, even if you had no intention of actually instigating a fight. “What brought you into town? Running errands?” He smiled as he shook his head.

“No. I felt your spiritual pressure when you landed. I simply couldn’t wait to see you after such a long time,” he told you. Your heart squeezed in your chest as he then began to lead you back to the castle. You asked about the shrine and how the offering and sessions were progressing. Taehyung was curious as to what the mainland was like and you offered to show him the goodies you brought back with you once you reached the castle.

All the while your heart pounded in your ears.

The crush you had on your prince only kept expanding in size with each passing day since you were announced engaged. You were sure if that had never happened, you would have grown out of it, however your love for him was deeper than the sea surrounded the island. You were absolutely sure, however, that Taehyung would never truly love you back.

He had always shown that you were his closest and deepest friend he had. Loving you as his first and best friend and close companion that helped him grow. However, you doubted he would ever be in love with you like you are with him, and the knowledge of your betrothal made such a bittersweet taste on your tongue.

You had often attempted to talk to him about the arrangement of your marriage. You wanted to give him the option now that he was a grown man and was able to understand what marrying you would mean. You wanted to give him the option to choose if he wanted you to become his wife for the rest of his life or not. And if he chose not to wed you, then you’d accept that, no matter how much it would break you.

You never had the strength to bring it up though. Too scared of letting him go, when he truly wasn’t fully yours. Unable to let go of the fantasy of marrying him, unable to let go of your selfishness.

You let out a sigh as Taehyung had entered the castle with you. He looked at you with furrowed brows and gold eyes.

“That is the fifth sigh since town. Are you unwell?”

“What?” you were unaware of your unconscious sighs until he had said something. “I’m fine. Just tired from the trip is all. I think I just need to rest a bit before I return to my shrine duties.”

“I’ll make sure to instruct Jungkook to keep watch over the shrine’s progression until tomorrow. Take a break until then. You’ve just returned from a long journey that I’m sure required a lot of strength. Do not push yourself.”

You nodded. Jungkook was the monk in-charge of the shrine when you are absent or unable to manage it for a number of reasons. He often watches it once a month when your body is in such pain that moving from your bed is a battle in itself.

He was a stubborn monk, but he was well versed in his craft you had to admit. He was different from the other monks you’ve grown up with. For instance, he refused to cut his hair like the others who had clean heads without hair at all. His long, brown locks curled around his ears and over his forehead, occasionally being tied back with a hair string for rituals.

“Yes,” you agreed, “that would be nice.”

You two had walked further into the castle when someone had rounded a further corner ahead and caught sight of you. Speak of the devil.

“Hey! Y/n!” Jungkook waved in his robes of black and purple, rushing towards you. He was a friendly monk, child-like and free spirited and never addressed you properly by title. You almost admire that about him. He came to a stop in front of you and Taehyung as the prince suddenly drew quiet without you noticing. “Welcome back home,” he grinned down at you, standing a head taller.

“Yes, it’s good to be back.” You smiled in greeting as you both conversed. Taehyung watched you both talk so openly and comfortably. You often spoke without formality when you were with Jungkook. With himself though- even if you had known him since he was six- you still held a sense of formality. He didn’t realize how much he missed your relaxed speech when you were young until he was watching you talk so comfortably with the long-haired monk.

“I hope you won’t mind keeping charge of the shrine until tomorrow. I have to wait a bit longer for my powers to return to normal. The mainland pressure is far different than the island, so adjustment takes time.”

“Leave it to me, it’s not so hard.” He shrugged smugly. You rolled your eyes as Jungkook soon looked passed you to Taehyung who had been standing in silence. He looked back down to you. “The lovely couple off somewhere?” His chide was met with you snatching the staff he had at his side from his grasp and whacking him with it. “Ow! What’s with the sudden aggression?” He whine sorely as he rubbed his back. You gently handed the staff back to him as if you had done no wrong.

“That’s your punishment for improper speech to the woman who is technically your superior,” you told him, but you both knew the real reason you whacked him. Jungkook was the sole person you’ve confided in about your feelings for the serpent prince. “Return to your shrine duties, I’ll be stopping by with new offerings later,” you told him as you started away.

“Yes, yes. As you wish, My Lady,” he submitted as he watched you leave, Taehyung silently trailing behind you.

It was silent again as Taehyung and you continued on your way to the throne room to greet the royal family and tell them of your return. They must already know you had come back since Taehyung had shown up so quickly as you landed, but it was still a requirement of the shrine’s center priestess to announce her departure and arrival.

“You and that monk seem to get along well,” Taehyung spoke, bitterly refusing to use Jungkook's name.

“Yes, well, he is two years younger than me. It’s easy to speak naturally to him when he’s only just turned twenty.”

The conversation was short lived as Taehyung didn’t speak after that and you didn’t either. The silence was almost comfortable and before long, you were entering the throne room with Taehyung just as you had a million other times before now.

As you grew closer, the queen sat higher in her chair. Her hair had faded to a shade of silver from age as the king’s black hair had begun to follow. “Ah, young Lady Y/n, I’m glad you’ve made it back safely. Did you enjoy your visit to the mainland?”

“Not as much as I enjoy the feeling of being home, Majesty.”

“Of course,” she mused. “I’m glad you have returned. My husband and I would like to speak to you and Taehyung if you have a moment.” You looked at the man beside you as he looked at his parents with an indifferent gaze like something was weighing on his mind.

“The wedding is next week?!” Jungkook screeched. You had just returned to the shrine from the castle in which the royal family had decided that you and Taehyung would be married by next week's end. “It’s so sudden,” the monk stated in a much milder tone.

“Not really,” you told him as you removed the wrapped herbs and roots from your bag. “I’ve been engaged to him since I was young. It was bound to happen one day.” You kept replaying the conversation from earlier in your mind. Just as it had been in the past, the moment his parents decided it, he just nodded and went along with their plans.

The same feeling in your gut wrenched and twisted like a dying tree root. Was he just going along with his parent’s decision because he admired them so much? Was he just doing this for the sake of his people because you were the Isle’s priestess? Or, was he doing this because it was something decided so long ago and he felt like he had no way out now?

As you set your items along the marble alter inside the shrine Jungkook watched you with soft, dewy eyes. He knew how much your heart loved the prince and how much you kept breaking your own heart over and over again. You never let yourself have the satisfaction of being with Taehyung all because you wouldn’t let yourself believe Taehyung would ever love you.

“Y/n,” he gently called. “Why don’t you just talk to him? I’m sure if you told him how you felt, then-”

“There would be no point in that,” you interrupted. “If I told him how I felt, and he didn’t return those feelings, then the whole relationship we’ve built up our entire lives would be ruined. At least if we get married as childhood friends, I can keep a piece of my happiness when I wear a ring around my finger.”

“But, if you just-”

“Jungkook,” you cut him off again. “Please, just drop it. I’ve made up my mind, you can’t change it.” The monk yielded as he just sighed and moved to stand beside you. Looping his arm over your shoulders, he pulled you in for a side hug.

“Just don’t get hurt,” he whispered.

Three days later, a ball would be held in an advanced celebration for the prince’s wedding. The event is grand, even invitations sent to the mainland were met with positive notes and promises to attend. You grew more and more anxious as the ball grew closer, specifically because you were going to be in charge of the first song of the evening.

A part of you thought it unfair. You were in charge of singing the first song for the guests in attendance. Meaning you wouldn’t be able to participate in the first dance and even more sour tasting is that Taehyung had the option to dance with whomever he chose. It was your engagement ball too, but there was no way around it- since it was the priestess’s duty to sing after all.

Jungkook offered to take your position and perform a hymn in your stead, but you simply told him not to worry about it. He wouldn’t be attending the ball- even if he was invited- simply because he had to watch the shrine while you would be preoccupied for the day.

Everyday prior to the ball you were cooped up in vocal training and hymn precision so as to not ruin the first dance. The morning of the ball, you only practiced once and then saved your voice for the evening of the event.

The castle was bustling with servants and guards running to and fro, along with the steady flow of mainland guests arriving in the town’s port. You sat somewhere in the twists and turns of the hedge maze as you tried to steady your heart. The wind blew softly, like a blanket of comfort before you were opening your eyes to see the prince in front of you.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said calmly in the wind.

“Everything’s so busy, I guess I just wanted to escape the chaos for as long as possible,” you shrugged as he came closer to you. You slid down the bench you sat on as he moved to sit beside you. It was silent for a time before he spoke up again.

“Do you remember the first time you came into this maze?” You looked at him. “You were confronted by criminals who had sneaked into the castle grounds with the intent to kidnap you. You ran into this maze, crouched into a ball and sang. I still remember that day so vividly.”

You looked away from him as you turned your sights to your lap. Dressed in your common gown, your hands were folded on your legs.

“Yes, I remember. You came to save me that day. I remember I was so scared, then you came running around the corner and I just started crying.” You laughed bitterly at the memory. “Next thing I knew, I was waking up the next morning in my bed like always.” You paused, contemplating on if you should speak more or let the silence envelope you both. “I guess you were always saving me, even all the way back then.”

Taehyung watched you as you kept an eye on your lap, fiddling with your hands in the warm breeze of spring. Your hair dancing in small wisps, almost hypnotizing him.

“Mother told me you’re performing the song for the first dance this evening,” he opened in a new conversation. “Which hymn have you chosen?” He asked.

“You don’t already know?” You looked at him. His gold scales reflecting off the sunlight. “I thought you always listened to my songs,” you teased with a lopsided smile. He returned the gesture back to you.

“I’ve been trying not to listen to your songs the past few days, as to not ruin the surprise.”

“Then, I guess you have no reason to know what I’ll be singing.” You both sat comfortably for a while and you even started thinking about actually unloading your heart to him. Jungkook’s constant push to tell Taehyung how you felt nagging at your mind as you sat with him so calmly in the garden. Now would be the perfect time, but it seemed you spent too much time thinking it over, you overran your chance.

“Lady Y/n!” You sighed as you heard someone call for you from afar. Taehyung straightened his back, narrowing his eyes to the distant voice who had disturbed the peaceful atmosphere. He looked to you when you suddenly stood and called back to them.

“I’m here!” You shouted as you stood and looked down to Taehyung. You smiled at him, but his eyes widened when he saw a small touch of sadness on your lips. “I look forward to seeing who you’ll choose to partner with during the first dance tonight.”

“Wait-” he reached out to you as he had begun to stand from the bench but you had already moved away from him. Disappearing behind the shrubs and out of his sight before he heard you conversing with a servant who was probably going to rush you off into preparations for the ball. He listened to your voice grow distant as he looked at the open palm of his, not able to remember the last time he held your hand. In that moment, the spring air felt colder to him in the sunlit maze.

You’ve never dreaded putting on a formal gown more than now, knowing that you’d be wearing it to your engagement ball. The dress itself was beautiful. White lace surrounded the breast and around your waist to wrap around your entire torso before the lace ended at your hips to let the red skirt fall to the floor where more white lace hemmed the end of the skirt. Your arms were covered in open fingered gloves that extended just past the elbow as the dress had to straps and rested on your chest.

Your hair was partially pulled back, the fronts of your locks pulled back behind your head and pinned into a knot with a white ribbon as the rest lay on your shoulders. A servant had come into the room as a lace was being wrapped around your neck when another necklace was presented. A small, red gem in the shape of a teardrop- apparently a gift from Taehyung for you to wear. You wore it along with the lace choker. You could already feel the beginning of an ache in your feet from the heels that encased your ankle and enclosed your toes.

You stood outside the ballroom entrance door, trying to gather your breath. You would typically enter the ballroom with your guest, but Taehyung would be appearing later on with his father and mother- fashionably late as royalty demanded.

The moment you entered the ballroom, all eyes were on you along with a small murmur followed by an applause at the arrival of the lady of the hour. You just waved them calm before you took to mingling like a proper lady should. Speaking and greeting the visitors who took the time to come to your island home, you couldn't get your throat to unclog.

The anxiousness of singing, the dread of possible mistakes, the sorrow of not being able to dance with the rest of the ladies during the first dance and the ugly jealousy of whoever would be lucky enough to dance with Taehyung first. All of it stuck in your throat like a toad.

You jump when you feel a hand rest on the small of your back, getting your attention. You whirl around, ready to scold who dared to touch you so familiarly, but stopped short when you look up to Taehyung’s snake eyes.

“Prince,” you muttered. His hand that was on your back moved to rest on your waist in your hasty turn. He was dressed in a golden vest that matched his hair and compliments his eyes and scales. His white dress shirt beneath his vest was wrinkle-free and his trousers hung off his waist in perfection as the toes of his boots reflected the ballroom’s light. A royal blazer with embroidered shoulders and decorated lapels. His hair was brushed and parted, as soft looking as ever. You noticed a golden teardrop necklace with the chain tucked under his dress shirt’s collar as the gem rested on his chest.

“You look beautiful, Y/n,” he compliments. Your face is the same shade of your dress as you fiddled with your skirt. You took a breath and looked up to him with a smile.

“You look as handsome as always,” you told him, sincerity dripping off your tongue. You lifted your hand to toy with the necklace that was given to you. “Thank you for this,” you said. He in turn touched his own golden gem that was nearly identical to yours. You looked around, not seeing the king or queen in the ballroom yet. “Where are your parents?” You asked him as he just chuckled.

“I came early. I wanted to see you before the event started.”

“Oh,” was your instant reply to the soft smile on his face. You cleared your throat as you gathered your thoughts and changed the topic. “So, have you decided on someone to dance with while I sing?” You ask as cheerfully as you could muster. Your resolve faltered at the look the prince gave you without speaking. Maybe he hadn’t been asked yet?

“I won’t be participating in the first dance,” he declared with a slightly dipped brow. “Why would I, knowing that my fiance wouldn’t be my partner?” He grabbed your hand. “I will dance and mingle through the night just as I’m expected to, but if you cannot dance in the event’s opening, then neither will I.”

Your face grew rosy. His words were heavy on your heart and squeezed your chest like you were drowning. Would he ever be aware of just how much his words mean to you? Would he realize one day that everything he tells you and every praise he sings made you want to crumble under the weight of your unspoken, suffocating feelings?

Eventually, the elder royal couple of Serpent Castle had made their appearance and your presence was requested at the back of the room in preparation. As you spoke with the instrumentalists who would replace your voice through the remainder of the night after your song, you instructed them to stay silent and keep their instruments hushed until you were finished.

As the opening was announced, partners were grabbed, the floor was scattered with pairs and Taehyung stood behind you, his hands tucked informally into the pockets of his trousers as he watched your back. Then, you sang.

The hymn was something Taehyung hadn’t heard before. He had heard you sing up close before, often coming by the shrine at early morning or late evenings just to hear it clearly rather than through his serpent’s blood. He did not recognize this hymn, yet it resonated so clearly with his serpent counterpart as his blood felt like it was getting warmer behind his skin. It raised goosebumps on his skin under his clothes and made the hair on the back of his neck stand.

Whatever this new hymn was, it was immediately his favorite. The flutters it put in his chest made him remove his hand from his pocket just to push his palm against his breast. He felt his heart pound under his palm as he just stared at your back with wide eyes of awe.

When the hymn was over and the first dance of the evening concluded, there was a round of applause for your unparalleled performance and then the instrumentalists finally took over.

You felt a weight off your chest as you sighed in relief. You had performed well in your opinion. Not missing your notes or beat, but then again it would be harder to do an official hymn rather than the one you sung.

“Y/n,” you heard Taehyung call behind you. Turning, you saw his eyes shining brighter than usual- perhaps it was the ballrooms light gleaming in them. “That hymn, I hadn’t heard that before.”

“Oh, well it’s because I composed that hymn myself.” You opened your hand and started counting on your fingers. “I suppose it was a few weeks ago, but I have begun writing my own hymns- just to see if perhaps they would be as effective as those written in our books.” You lowered your hand back to your side. “I hope it wasn’t distasteful to you,”

“It was magnificent,” he breathed in truth. “I hope you sing it often so I may hear it.”

“I-,” you stuttered at the compliments, “of course. If that’s what you wish, then it shall be my Prince.”

Taehyung quickly reached for and took your hand, holding it tightly as he pulled you beside him. “Come,” he told you. Leading you out among the peoples in the rooms as they danced to the tunes played by the men who plucked strings and blew into flutes. “Be my first dance,” he smiled. “It may not be the first, but it shall be our first dance.”

Taehyung’s hand re-positioned in yours as his other rested on your waist as you gripped his shoulder and your feet were soon slotted beside each other. Your chest brushing against his as the next song had begun and your feet moved with the harp and flutes tune.

Taehyung spoke as you danced, speaking of the upcoming wedding and it’s preparations. The set up and guest attendance will be filled with all the people in the ballroom currently, leading to him telling you that they would all be staying on the island until the wedding had concluded. The ceremony was hopefully going to be quick and not a drawn out afternoon, as you got choked up just thinking about it.

Of course, the toughest part of it all would be vows.

Your vows specifically. You briefly wondered if in your vows that fateful day of union, you would admit to him finally that you had loved him for such a long time. Or, should you keep your secret locked up in your heart forever as to not ruin what could be a happy enough marriage. You shook your head, it was clearly Jungkook’s insistent pushing to make you confess getting to you. You had already made your mind up, you couldn’t change it now.

The song of harp and whistles ended and you almost immediately drew yourself away from your husband-to-be. Before he could reach out and stop you from retreating he was flocked with all sorts of visitors. Women asking to dance- to which he cannot refuse- and men wishing to converse of trade and business with him. He watched over a sea of heads as you ran off until he couldn’t see you anymore.

You had retreated to a wall hidden by a table with glass flutes of a sweet alcohol. Typically, you avoided the beverages, but just this once you decided to indulge just a little. It was a white wine, clear as crystal but not as delightful to drink as the fountain's shrine water.

“Good evening, My Lady,” a man addressed from beside you. You were unaware of his approach and his opening startled you. Turning, you saw a man who was undoubtedly from somewhere far inland you imagined. “I am Duke Lethan. I watch over a small country stead far from the coast of the mainland. I must say, your song earlier was beautiful.”

His flattery felt nothing like Taehyung’s words. His cheap words did not make your heart flutter or your stomach toss. Though, he was being kind and so as to not ruin the merry mood of the ball, you humored him- as much as you wanted to be left alone.

“Thank you very much, kind Duke.” You spent a small amount of energy carrying general conversation with the duke of the mainland as you kept your guard up. You never did trust the men from off the island, your recent visit abroad having one too many encounters with rude, entitled ones.

You smiled when you were cued to smile, and you laughed at his small attempts at humble humor, but you just wished for the conversation to end and him to be on his way. Instead, he began to persist in the idea of a dance with you.

Trying to politely decline the offer, he tried convincing you- obviously not taking no for an answer. Ready to put your foot down, merrymaking be damned, you felt that familiar hand on your back before it slid around to encase your waist and rest just above your white laced stomach. It was no surprise- or perhaps it was- to see Taehyung at your side as he held you to his chest.

“I do believe she’s already refused a dance. Go find a different partner if you would, Duke Lethan.” Not in a position of authority to begin to argue, the duke just lowered his head and went on his way into the crowd to find some other poor woman to give in to his pressure. “Y/n,” he called as you looked up at him from where you were once watching the duke retreat. “Dance with me again just once more.”

He had been watching you as soon as he could locate you after you left him after your dance. When that duke approached you and started making you smile, something in his chest lurched. He felt irked just knowing you were conversing so happily with a stranger and not with him. He was distracted as he danced with a lady from the mainland and he quickly left her abandoned mid-song at the look of distress on your face when the duke wouldn’t depart from your presence.

However, he would never disclose that to you. He didn’t even understand how he felt, all he knew was that he felt better when you were beside him like this.

“I’d be honored to dance with you again, my Prince,” you agreed with a smile up at him and the pain in his chest soothed instantly. You chalked it up to your imagination, but it felt like during this dance Taehyung held you tighter than before.

As the evening finally started dwelling down, guests started dismissing themselves back to their temporary rooms in the castle or back into town where their room in a local Inn was waiting for them. You were standing outside the ballroom, fiddling with your necklace. Exhausted from the evening of non-stop mingling and dancing.

Taehyung had pulled you away from a handful of men who seemed a bit ‘too interested in his fiance’, he claimed. You danced with him each time he did so.

“Y/n,” Taehyung called behind you. You startled, not expecting to be found in your little nook away from the dwindling down madness. He came to stand beside you, his golden eyes and scales seemed to grow faintly in the dimly lit halls of his castle. “Are you well?”

You felt a lot of things tonight. The burning eyes of mainland damsels on your back when you danced with the prince they knew they couldn’t even begin to woo because he simply didn’t give them the time. The watching eyes of older couples of tradition who thought it unjust for a simple priestess to marry into royalty. The sly eyes of men who wanted to dance to you and maybe catch a grip of something more- not that you’d allow that. And the squeezing of your heart whenever Taehyung held you and danced.

You sighed, making Taehyung take a step closer as he raised his arm to rest on your bicep, stroking it in comfort.

“I just,” you cut yourself off with closed eyes and a breath. “I’m just overwhelming myself and thinking about something.”

Taehyung moved to stand closer, grabbing your arm and hooking it around and under his own as his hip was next to you. He smiled down at you as he started walking forward, pulling you with him lightly.

“We’ll take a walk outside. Fresh air will help,” he told you in promise. Maybe the moonlight would shed away your worries- you could only hope. You were hardly aware of where Taehyung was leading you as you were so lost in your head. The fact that the man beside you was going to marry you in just a matter of days spiraled in your head like a hurricane. As did the doubt of if he even wanted to.

When you finally noticed you had been walking with him in silence for a while, you clocked back into reality and realized he had taken you back to the garden maze. This same maze is where you first truly realized you were in love with Taehyung and would be for the rest of your life- even if you were so young back then.

When you were in danger, and you sang- it was him who came running. It was him who found you in the maze and it was him who held you as you cried yourself into unconsciousness.

It was also this maze where you both sat just hours before that same day, talking in the sunlight that felt so comfortable. The spot where you realized you were going to marry your childhood playmate. Your one and only love interest and also your kingdom’s precious prince who was filled with serpent blood. It was this Taehyung who would be your husband and your feet stopped.

You halted in his step as your arm slipped from around his where it rested and he jerked when he felt it fall and slip away from him. He stood in front of you, half turned back to see your arm fall back to your side and your chin dipped.

The way the moon cast a shadow over your body should have been a romanticized look of an ethereal priestess, but the way you stood and avoided eye contact only made it grim. The prince felt his stomach twist as he straightened his back as you lifted your head to look directly at him for the first true time tonight.

His golden eyes widened a fraction at yours, seeing something in them waver and shake. It pinned his feet in place. Stood frozen in a half turned state, facing you as your fists balls behind the skirt of your dress, wrinkling the palm of your gloves.

“Be honest with me, Taehyung,” you called, foregoing his title and addressing him by name. It made his hair stand. “Are you going to be happy marrying me?” The prince parted his lips as he looked at you incredulously. Did you not want to marry him? Was that it? Was that what was weighing so heavily on your mind?

Ever since he could remember, ever since he got engaged to you so long ago in youth, he had known this day would come. He knew a celebration would come and a wedding would soon follow. He knew you were going to become his wife and a princess along with your priestess role. He had always known, and he had always been impatient waiting for all those moments to come. Now, they had and he was so caught up in himself and his own feelings- had he been wrong to think maybe you’d want to marry him too?

“Do you regret agreeing to marry me, perhaps?” He asked in answer to your question, still not giving you a proper answer. Your fisted hands uncurled just enough to ensnare your skirt’s cloth as you squeezed them shut once again.

“That isn’t it,” you harshly breathed. Denying so strongly that, that isn’t how you felt. “I’m- gods, I’m overjoyed that I get this chance. I am- just,” you took a calming breath. “I want to know if you’re doing this because you want to, or because your parents told you to.” You felt guilty, playing the card of his parents. He hadn’t often gone against their wishes because they were mostly reasonable people. You feared this engagement was just another order to him.

“You mean,” he stuttered, finally turning fully around to face you. Still not daring to step closer yet in fear you’d turn and run from the tense air. “You don’t know?” You flinched under his words, thinking for a split moment he was reaffirming that this was because his parents thought it was for the best. “I never knew you thought I didn’t want this marriage to happen. I’ve always been under the impression we agreed to this because we both wanted it.”

You looked at him with a twisted brow. What? What does that mean? Before you could ask him, a tear slid down his cheek. Falling over his golden scales from his equally as gold eyes. You gasped, stepping closer to him and the moment your hand caressed his cheek and your thumb touched under his eyes, he felt like he could breathe again.

“Why are you crying, my Prince? Don’t cry, please,” you pleaded. “I apologize, I should have kept it to myself,” you tried to fix the situation, but the hiccup that leapt from his throat at your words only seemed to worsen it all.

“Tell me,” he choked as he sniffed and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. “How do you feel about me as a husband?”

“I-,” you hesitated. You could lie, tell him a fib to appease him. Though, if you did- you’d just be biting into your very own poison apple. You wouldn’t lie anymore. “I love you, and I do want to marry you. I have ever since we were little because I’ve always loved you, Taehyung.” The word vomit spilled out in quick sentences, thinking that the speed of the words would hurt less coming out.

The prince crumbled, his knees weakening as he grabbed your hands and pushed them further against his face. His palm covering the back of your hand as his crying grew louder. You panicked.

Taehyung fell to his perfectly ironed knees as he kept your hands on his face, weeping. You panicked above him as he reeled into his mind- coming to such sudden realizations. You had been the only constant in his life aside form his very own family. You were always beside him, helping him and learning with him. You helped him when you were little and you were helping him even now.

Since when did you really grow up? When did he fall in love with you?

He was so ignorant of his feelings, he had pushed them off as- he didn’t even know what. Perhaps, he’s always known- but was too cowardly to admit it to himself and confront that love. All while he sat in his ignorance, you were withering in your admission and acceptance to how you felt. For so long, you had been growing more tired and the ache in your chest just kept growing because of him.

He cracked his eyes open from their squeezed state when he felt your hand move under his to wipe his tears. Your figure was blurry, blending in with the moonlight in the maze when he snatched your wrist and yanked you towards him.

He sighed when you fell down against his chest. His breath stuttered with his exhale as he started to finally calm down.

“I promise to take better care of it,” he started in a stiff, nasally tone. “So, please, give your heart to me and I’ll give you mine in return.” When you stiffened in his hold, he tightened his arms around you, burying his face into your neck where you could feel the chill of his tears on your skin. “I love so much about you, I can’t think of where to begin. Let me be selfish one more time when I ask you to never stop loving me. Because, I don’t think I can stop loving you either.”

You’re not sure when your tears started falling, but there they were. Trailing down your cheeks and dripping off your chin as you rested against the prince’s shoulder. You just nodded, not trusting your voice.

The two of you sat, kneeling in the middle of this garden maze crying for what seemed like an eternity before you both finally were able to talk to each other without tears or hiccups. At the end of the night, Taehyung felt it far too difficult to let go of your hand when he walked you back to your room.

“Mother,” Taehyung rushed into his parents’ room where the queen was sat at the balcony window, a cup of tea in her hands raised to her lips. “Have you seen Y/n, this morning?”

“My, you seem to be in a hurry. Did something happen?” His mother’s question made the prince’s cheeks bloom before she was setting her cup down on it’s saucer before replacing it on the windowsill. “Did you finally admit that you loved the girl?” She chuckled as Taehyung’s chip dropped and his mouth opened.

“You knew?” He asked, astonished.

“Call it a mother’s instinct, darling.” She teased. “Plus,” she chuckled at the state of her son, “your shirt is half tucked in and your cloak isn’t properly clipped.” She rose from her chair and strode to her son’s front, properly latching the golden string across his chest to let the royal violet cloak rest on his shoulders like it should. “Must have been in a rush to see her, huh?”

“I suppose so,” he smiled down at the top of his mother’s head. “I’ve been putting her through so much during our years of engagement, I don’t want to be away from her when I don’t need to be.”

“That’s a big admission from the Serpent Prince, isn’t it,” she jokes as Taehyung smiled wider and shook his head. He knew she didn’t just see him as the ‘serpent prince’, and neither did his father. It was just a long running tease from when he confronted them about his ‘destiny’ when he was a kid- birthed from your young, innocent advice. His smile softened, another realization that opened in his mind of you. “Y/n was called for an early singular devotion. The waves were rough, so she set out to pray in the fountain at dawn.”

Taehyung stepped away from the queen, thanking her before kissing her cheek and rushing off. She just chuckled as she readied a story to tell the king when he came out of his morning shower.

The shrine was deathly quiet as he walked through the doors as quietly as possible. For single devotions, it was required for the center priestess or priest at the time of management to be alone in the shrine for prayers. It would heighten concentration of spiritual power.

As soon as he entered, he could feel your power flowing through the shrine's interior like ribbons. He was one of a small circle of people who could enter the shrine anytime without reason no matter the devotion or time- a perk of being the descent of the island god. He walked through to the center fountain and just as he figured, there you were.

Your back was to him as you were knelt in the fountain water. Your hands were clasped in front of you as your head was dipped, eyes shut and lost in your conscience. He leaned against a pillar, silent as he watched you. It was absolutely silent as you prayed, but he could stand there and watch you do nothing all day and be content.

He pushed off the pillar when you shivered and then gasped with a jolt. Losing your sense of balance, you teetered to the side, splashing your hand into the fountain to stop yourself from falling in completely. The water splashed up into your face and clung to your already soaked, white prayer robe.

He stopped mid step when you turned to look over your shoulder, seeing him there. He felt like he had just got caught in a crime, though he was technically not breaking any rules. He saw you exhale a breath, your rigid back deflating into a terrible sense of posture.

“It was just you, my Prince,” you breathed. You sat back up, moving to stand from your kneeling in the water as you turned to walk out of the fountain. Taehyung rushed to the fountain’s wall, offering you his hand as you took it and watched your feet as you stepped out.

Water followed you in a small wave when you hopped over the fountain wall and the shrine’s marble floor became wet as your robe dripped more water along it. Your robe was nearly translucent.

Taehyung could see the pink of your thighs and stomach all the way up to your ribs and around your back and bum. It was proper attire to only wear a single white robe and nothing more when in singular devotion- a reason as to why it had to be cleared of all others in the shrine was to keep the body of the priest or priestess hidden from other’s eyes.

He quickly unclipped his royal robe from it’s golden string and slung it off and around his shoulders to quickly wrap it around your wet body instead. You greatly accepted the cover, hiding your body and what could be seen behind it’s thick, warm fabric.

“What brings you here this morning?” You ask up to him, drops of water falling from strands of your hair. Taehyung smiled at you, lifting those wet strands and putting them over your shoulder before he leaned to quickly kiss you. When he stood up, you just covered your lips with your fingertips and a flushed face.

“I wanted to see you as soon as possible, that’s all.” He gently led you to sit on the fountain wall as he sat beside you and before you could call him cheeky, you both were conversing like before. Or, perhaps it was easier than before- talking to each other. “We’re getting married soon,” he happily reminded you as if you didn’t already start counting the days.

“I’m very aware,” you humor him as you pull the cloak further around your shoulders. Taehyung placed his head on your shoulder and days later, when the wedding was held he was anxious all day.

Unable to see you until the ceremony, he was restless while you were being groomed up and down, while Jungkook stood back and laughed, watching it all happen. The prince was able to breathe again when you stood beside him as vows were spoken and promises made with them.

You walked out of the shrine a married woman that afternoon. That evening, you slept beside your husband and you woke up, not only a priestess, but a princess too.

- END -

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