#in Spring and Autumn here it can be really hot and humid one day then the next is cold and drizzly

[calxia]

Weather really is something. I love the rain but I also hate the cold. I somewhat like the sun but also hate the heat. I used to be able to deal with the heat and now I can't. Can't even get used to cold as fuck weather when it snows. Sometimes it'll go into the negatives. At one point I had snow up till March/April.

Speaking of weather. What are thoughts on the Ghouls favorite type of weather? I'm kind of putting a little thought into it. I feel Rain loves when it pours but hates when it pouring down and freezing cold. While Mountain is more for a cloudy day with the sun peaking out.

- 🎸 Anon

I live for the cold weather. I wait for when it gets cold enough I can wear my leather jacket and hoodies everywhere without question. When we got really bad snow here earlier this year I jumped on the opportunity to walk to work in it. the crunch and coldness is just perf.

here's some lil thoughts on what weather I think the ghouls will like. I got very carried away again while writing these, but really what's new there?

Rain loves those misty summer mornings where the grass glitters with beaded dew and the air is heavy with the cloying taste of the humid day yet to come. The air is crisp but not cold, and everything is still, waiting for the warmth the steadily rising sun will bring. Rain likes summer showers. The refreshing brush of cold rain on sticky skin. The sort of rain that leaves you soaked, but revitalises you for the day. He breathes easier when it's humid, his lungs not having to work as hard as his moist gills help pick up the slack.

Dew likes the scorching sun. The sort which burns your skin at the slightest brush. That drives most to try to seek shelter in the shade, but even the shade is still dangerously warm. The heat that brings a period of drought with it and risks starting a blazing inferno from the frazzled dead grass it creates. He recharges in the dry air and basks like a lizard in the powerful rays of the sun. Dew also likes the feeling of the first rain after a period without. The warm humidity energizes him and calls forth the remnants of his water past.

Mountain likes cloudy mornings in the spring. Where the air is still chased by the bitter nip of frost but you can almost feel how everything is waking up for the season of new beginnings. When the sun is starting to rise earlier and earlier as the days lengthen. The weather is perfect for the work that a new season brings and the clouds provide cover from harsh UV rays. He rises with the sun to work his gardens as the sun plays peekaboo with the clouds.

Swiss enjoys the heat of early summer when the earth is still trying to shake off the frosts of spring. He likes a gentle breeze that carries dandelion seeds and the smells of summer with it. It is warm but still cool enough that you can do things freely. He likes staying up late when dusk is beginning to spread and night insects emerge. A chill starts to spread but it's chased away by firepits and good company. A wind stokes the bonfire, yet it is early enough in the season that the damp ground easily contains the blaze.

Cirrus is partial to a cool autumn evening, perfect for snuggling up in front of the hearth to fight off the cold. The sort of weather that is perfect for a dusk stroll through the woods all bundled up. The crisp air nipping at unprotected noses and fingers. There's nothing better than being able to snuggle up with those you love and watch the twilight drawing in.

Both Aurora and Cumulus love the snow. They almost become kits again when they wake up to a thick sheet of white across the abbey grounds. They always try to rush outside in their pyjamas only to be stopped by Cirrus, who forces them to wrap up warm. They love the crunch of snow and the way snowflakes drift down from above to cling to eyelashes and hair. They will stay outside for as long as possible before they get called in for hot chocolate and pack cuddles in front of a roaring fire. If it was up to them, they would stay out all day playing.

Phantom likes the bitter cold of an icy winter night. He’s enthralled with the way frost sparkles beneath a cloudless night. He always feels the cold down to his bones but it's easily thwarted by thick clothes and heaped blankets. He’s never seen snow before, but he’s sure that if it glitters anything like an iced-over pond and crunches like frost, he will love it.

[azurillturtle]

telos (laughter & light)

more thoughts on ancients culture, in the form of azem, euny, and a little bit of pashtarot. growing up and being left behind.

It is raining outside of Amaurot.

It is not raining inside Amaurot.

Inside the city bounds, the humidity is nothing more than a warm, pleasant mist. It’s warm in general, actually, a tad too hot to be considered ideal but not the blistering heat one might expect in the height of midsummer. In fact it’s unusually nice—

Euny mentally corrects herself. For one who has lived one’s whole life within Amaurot, this is exactly the weather one might expect in the height of midsummer.

Weather in Amaurot does not always follow the expected rules of the rest of the world. The people of the city claim that they experience seasons. Spring is the time for Halmarut to show off their newest creations. Summer is noticeably warmer and wetter. Autumn is marked by bright bursts of foliage on the trees, and a light dusting of snow might be found on the ground in winter.

That’s really all, though. If one were to travel a little ways out from the city, a mere ten malms or so, one would find the weather gradually changing to something more normal for Amaurot’s latitude and the surrounding topography. It is not that Amaurot was built in a temperate clime: It is simply that her residents do not see any reason to suffer any discomfort that they can block out entirely. And so the weather is mild, the seasons are perfectly tailored to appeal to the poets and the romantics, and they experience no storms save those that originate within the Capitol.

Euny has learned that Amaurotines are full of these sorts of little hypocrisies. They call themselves custodians of the star. They say that protecting and overseeing Etheirys is their lives’ work. She does not see how manipulating the local weather is supposed to serve the star, but she has learned it’s better not to ask.

To those born and raised in the city, this is a perfectly normal day in a perfectly normal summer and there is no reason to think otherwise. And what does it say about Euny herself, she wonders, that she no longer thinks of herself as being part of the city where she was born and raised?

It is raining outside of Amaurot. It is not raining inside Amaurot. The best middle ground she has found is a vantage point on the cliffs south of the city. From here she can admire the sprawling metropolis in its entirety, the towering buildings and glowing lights and spiraling sculptures of her home. From here she is far enough removed that the sky is gray and the rain is a light, persistent drizzle soaking through her robes. In the world outside the city it is summer, and so it is warm enough that she does not mind, though she will have to remember to dry off before she returns. She has an image to maintain that she cannot afford to have sullied by rumors. She cannot stand the thought of whispers behind her back, gazes of disapproval or pity leveled at her when they think she is not looking.

Euny heaves a deep sigh. Her hands ball into the carpet of wildflowers at her sides. She resists the urge to raise them and pull up the greenery by the roots.

Now especially she cannot appear to be anything but calm and collected. She is no longer a child, prone to ill-timed excitement and unsightly outbursts. She is a seasoned traveler of the star, mature enough to take anything in stride.

Even this.

Especially this.

She does not know how long she has been sitting here, lost in thoughts of her city and her place in it, when someone behind her sets their hands on her shoulders. She jumps and nearly tips over in her surprise. The scream she lets out is not very mature at all.

The person behind her was expecting this. Already they are laughing, their hands tightening on her shoulders to steady her before she falls.

“Azem!” she splutters, twisting around to shoot a half-hearted glare at her long-time acquaintance.

Azem’s grin is completely unrepentant. Like her, they have lowered their cowl and mask out here away from the city. Their eyes, striking violet and gold, are bright and wicked.

“Hello, Euny,” they say. “It’s been a while. Not since Miletus, if I remember right?”

“I think so,” Euny answers, though she does not spare more than the briefest of thoughts for the question. “What are you doing here?”

Azem makes a small, thoughtful noise. In one fluid motion they fall to a seat beside her, sitting crosslegged on the grass and draping their arms across their knees. She envies their careless grace; she always has.

“They call me counselor to the people,” Azem says breezily. “I suppose that means I should do a spot of counseling every now and again. You look as if you might benefit from it.”

Euny does not argue. She knows the turn of Azem’s moods well enough to know they will continue pestering her until she speaks. And so, even though she does not particularly wish to converse with anyone and especially not with one of her father’s contemporaries, she says, “I meant, what are you doing here?”

“Oh. You mean, here?” Azem’s wave encompasses the clifftop on which they sit and the city in the distance below them. “Well, naturally, I was looking for you. A little bird told me I might find you here.”

Euny cocks her head and furrows her brow. “…Literally or figuratively?”

Azem smiles and does not answer. Instead they say, “Nice place you’ve got here. Stunning view of the city. Come here often?”

“…Sometimes. I used to more often when I was attending school.” She twists her wrists fractionally, putting more stress on the poor grass clutched in her fists. More softly she admits, “Whenever I was upset and wanted to get away for a bit.”

“Hmm. Would you prefer to be alone then or should I stay?”

Euny shakes her head. “You can stay.”

“Oh, good,” Azem says, their tone still so lighthearted it’s hard to decipher their thoughts. “I can’t do much good as a counselor if you shoo me away.”

Euny rolls her eyes and doesn’t dignify that with an answer.

They sit together quietly for a time, the wind toying with their hair and the rain sluicing down their faces. Azem, Euny notices, doesn’t seem to mind the weather much either. Indeed, they tilt their head back as if enjoying the caress of the rain.

Euny does not ask why Azem thinks she might need counseling. They too will have heard the news. Whoever it was who directed Azem her way, it is both gratifying and embarrassing that they spared a thought for her in this moment.

Azem is the one who breaks the silence. That is not unexpected; they always have been more impatient than Euny.

“So,” they say—and she stiffens at that single word. “Eight moons.”

“Yes.”

They tilt their head, not turning to face her but regarding her out of the corner of their eye. “You must have known it was coming? He wouldn’t have sprung something like this on you.”

“…Yes.”

Azem waits for her to continue. When she does not, they sigh, leaning back and resting their weight on their elbows. They murmur, “It is cause for rejoicing when one declares their work complete and announces their intention to return to the star. And yet you aren’t happy.”

“Are you?” she retorts. “Everyone knows you and Papa don’t get along.”

“Is that what they say?” Azem wonders aloud. Before Euny can answer that rather puzzling question, they are already saying, “We have an agreement, he and I, though it may not seem that way from the outside.”

They slide their elbows along the wet grass, falling onto their back and bringing one hand up to shield their eyes from the rain.

“You, though. Your love for Pashtarot is in no doubt.”

The invitation leaves little room for misinterpretation. Euny pushes one heel across the ground, tearing grass and leaving furrows in the mud.

She wants to say she doesn’t want to talk about it. But if she really didn’t want to talk about it, she would have told Azem to leave her, right?

“He first mentioned it some years ago,” she says at last. “As you say, he wanted to discuss it with family first. He sat us down one morning and told us he was thinking of returning to the star. He said it wouldn’t be anytime soon, that he still needed to set his affairs in order. I thought there would be time enough to make my peace with the idea, but…”

“But time flies, and before you knew it, it was looming close on the horizon,” Azem says gently. “And now the moment is nearly here and you don’t know what to do.”

Euny nods silently.

Azem hesitates, then reaches over to pat her elbow. It is a tentative, awkward gesture. Still, they are trying.

“It’s strange,” she says, in answer to Azem’s earlier question. “I should be happy for him. And I am. But I feel as if I’m forcing myself to be happy for him. If I stopped to think about what I wanted, for myself, I wouldn’t be happy at all, and that’s…”

She stops, struggling for words; ducks her head and pushes a lock of bedraggled hair out of her face. “…I don’t know. I don’t know what to make of it really.”

Azem only says, quietly and thoughtfully, “Hmm.”

That’s really not useful at all, and Euny can’t help but be disappointed. She’s not sure what she was expecting really. Certainly it wasn’t the painfully judgmental silence now stretching between them.

Azem runs their hands across the ground, rustling blades of grass in their wake, and at last says, “This is the first time anyone close to you has returned to the star?”

Euny nods. Azem laughs, low in their throat, but they stop quickly once they realize she might take offense. “Then I’ll tell you something few bother to explain. Only the very old and the very idealistic truly believe that returning to the star is an occasion for uncomplicated joy. The rest of us, who have decades if not centuries remaining in which to serve, often find ourselves conflicted at their return. We should be glad that those we have loved have found themselves thus satisfied and declare their duties at an end. But it is a bittersweet farewell for those left behind, for we find ourselves faced with an eternal parting from those we cherish.”

Azem lifts one hand, framing their fingers against the sky. Then they glance at her, frowning slightly as if puzzled.

“You are not the first to wonder why we walk so willingly to our ends. A dear friend of mine struggled with the question for a very long time. Why we exist on this star, why we live, why we would choose to die. But in the end everyone’s thoughts on returning to the star are different. Just as we choose what brings us fulfillment in life, only we can decide why and when we should seek our ends.”

“What about you?” Euny says. “You’re old. Why do you think people want to return?”

Azem laughs, They roll onto their side to face her fully, mismatched eyes glittering with mirth. “Euny! Is that really what you think of me? I’m hurt!”

Euny draws her brows together, attempting to glower at them, but as always, their laughter is contagious. In the end she smiles, just slightly. “You didn’t answer my question. What would make you return to the star?”

Why is her father choosing to leave her behind?

Azem is silent for a time, merely watching her. They don’t move save to blink, long lashes brushing rain from their eyes. She finds that she cannot holds their piercing gaze and looks away, back towards the city, and Azem sighs.

“To start with, it’s not fully my decision. I’m not going anywhere without Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus. That we decided long ago.”

Euny stifles her giggle. Their words are matter-of-fact, their promise solemn and unbreakable. Azem will return with Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus or not at all. The thought of their devotion tugs sweet and painful at her heartstrings.

“You’re adorable,” she says.

“What?” But Azem’s confusion lasts only a moment. When she does not elaborate, they flop on their back on the wet grass and continue, “…I don’t know when they will be ready. They’ll tell me when it’s time. But as for when I think we should return to the star…

“Well. I’m a traveler. The Traveler, I suppose. To me, life is all one long adventure. A series of sweet meetings and bitter partings. We chase our dreams, and celebrate our successes, and bow beneath the crushing weight of failure. Each and every moment, we live to the fullest. And at the end of the day, exhausted from our efforts, we retire for a well-deserved rest.”

They lace their fingers together and extend their arms above them. “That is how I have come to view it. Much as I love adventure, even I must admit that there comes a time when the excitement wears thin and we long for sleep.”

Azem shrugs, their hands rising another few ilms in the air with the movement. “We live to serve the star. We return to the star once we have made our contributions. In practice, that means a return when we are at our happiest: when we have achieved all that we intended, when we can look back on our lives with satisfaction and say, yes, I can do no better. What reason then do we have to linger? Better to rest and be reborn anew, ready to serve once more.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Euny mumbles.

“Most things are when you get right down to it. Complicated though they might seem at first glance, you’ll find there’s really not much to them once you strip them down to the essentials.”

Azem glances to the side, their eyes sharp. Only when a shiver runs down her spine does Euny realize that she’s relaxed her guard.

“What I mean to say, Euny, is that by voicing his intent to return to the star, Pashtarot has pronounced that he is satisfied with the life he has lived. As a respected member of the Convocation of Fourteen, yes, and as one who has watched over our people and acted as an unwelcome adversary to their irreproachable Azem, but in his personal life as well.”

Azem bestows a beatific smile upon her. “He has the utmost faith in you. You have grown into a magnificent adult. He believes he has done his duty by you; that even in his absence, you will continue to be well, with your strength and your courage to light your way. Has he not said as much?”

Euny stares as if they’ve grown a second head. After a long moment, Azem sighs. “…Right. Pashtarot. Of course not.”

With a great heave, they push themself back up to a seat. They are so close their shoulder brushes against hers, but at least their unsettling gaze is no longer focused on her.

“It’s a very personal matter, choosing to return to the star,” they say quietly. “In the end it falls to the individual, and it’s best if they don’t allow their decision to be unduly influenced by others. To live entirely for other people is to deny one’s own desires. To deny one’s desires is to plant the seeds of dissatisfaction and misery. It’s natural to grieve those we will not see again, but it is for their own sake that we let them go.”

“I know that,” she mumbles.

She does know that. She knows that she’s being selfish, wishing that her father would stay just a little longer. And that makes her feel worse in the end, because she shouldn’t be selfish, she should be able to see him off with a smile.

“We meet many people on our travels,” Azem says. “Some we encounter only once. Some we see again and again. And some we part with, knowing there will never be a next time. I will not tell you it gets easier—only that it is the same for all of us at some point in our lives.

“You will get through it all right. He would not leave you if he did not believe you could thrive without him.” Azem smiles faintly and tilts their head. “It’s a hard thing, being a parent. Letting one’s child fly free on her own wings.”

Euny closes her eyes and blows a breath. Azem’s shoulder bumps hers again, companionably, and she finds she does not mind.

“Would you like a hug?” they ask softly.

Euny nods, not daring to speak.

Azem’s arm wraps about her shoulders, pulling her close. Euny keeps her eyes screwed firmly shut. It is raining outside of Amaurot, and it is not raining inside Amaurot, and, she thinks, she can be forgiven for a moment of weakness. Just this once.

Azem does not say a word, but the arm around her is tight, and they do not let her go.

When even the last of her whimpers dies down to nothing, when pride and embarrassment reassert themselves, she straightens up and in so doing pulls away. Azem lets her go, dropping their hand to rest back on the grass.

“Thank you,” she says, and Azem nods.

“I’ll miss him too, I think,” they say. “Not in quite the same way as you, but I will miss him.”

She has no reason to doubt the truth of those words. Whatever Azem’s feelings on her father, a long, complex association leaves its own mark. It will not be the same once the new Pashtarot takes his place.

Euny scrubs one hand across her eyes. She cannot return to the city for a little while yet, not while her eyes are red enough to evoke comment. Instead she turns to Azem and searches for something to say. “What about you?”

Azem’s brow is furrowed, their eyes wide with confusion. Azem is also by now soaked from head to toe, gray hair plastered against their skin and robes hanging heavy with water. The overall effect is rather comical. “What about me?”

“You seem the type of person who can always find something new and interesting wherever you go. When would you consider yourself satisfied? Your adventures at an end?”

“Besides when Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus are ready, you mean?” Azem stretches their legs out, pointing their toes down toward the city. “Well. I don’t think I’ll ever see everything the star has to offer. You’re right about that at least. When I have shared the joy and the beauty of the star with all who will listen; when the friendship between Amaurot and our far outflung peoples has grown unshakable. When the world has become a kinder and gentler place. Then, I think, I can step down from my seat content.”

They chuckle low in their throat, their chin dipping and their eyelids falling half-closed with amusement. “We won’t return immediately, I think. I fully intend to drag them across the star and take them to all of my favorite places. We could all do with some time to enjoy ourselves, and there is so much I’d like to show them.

“But that is still a long way off, and there is much preparation that has yet to be done.” Azem sighs theatrically. “Hythlodaeus still has boxes and boxes of submissions he’s always said he’ll get to someday, and Emet-Selch still keeps getting distracted by every new and fancy application of aether that crosses his path. I daresay they’ve put no thought into who will look after their business once they’ve gone, and that’s the most important consideration of all if one wishes for one’s legacy to be properly preserved.”

“I suppose,” Euny murmurs. She is thinking about her father’s chosen successor, a woman she has known since she was very young, as serious and dedicated as one could ever ask. There is no one better qualified to carry on her father’s will and his wishes than Metis.

“When that time comes, Euny…”

Azem pauses. There is a quality to their hesitance that makes Euny glance at them. Their eyes are narrowed to the barest slits; they are gazing down at the city as if something has displeased them.

“Azem?”

They shake their head sharply as if emerging from a reverie. “…Never mind. You’re still young. I won’t burden you with that yet.”

She stares at them, lips unconsciously pressed together in a pout. “Are you saying I’m too young to understand?”

“Oh, no, not at all. I’m saying you should enjoy your carefree youth for a few more decades before I upend your life with my dastardly plans.”

That does not make her feel any better. Euny’s scowl makes plain her thoughts on the matter. Azem laughs and ruffles her hair affectionately, which only solidifies her belief that they still consider her a child. “Feeling better?”

She stops, her lips parting as she considers the question. Oddly enough, she is. “…Yes.”

“I thought so. It helps to know you’re not alone.” Azem nudges her arm. “If you still find yourself struggling, send me a message. I’m always willing to talk. And I suggest sitting down with your father for a proper discussion. He isn’t really one to discuss his feelings, but he’ll do it if you ask it of him.”

Of course he will. That is the one thing in her life that Euny has never doubted. Her father would do anything for her.

Azem waits for a moment, giving her time to speak if she so desires. When she does not, they prompt gently, “Is there anything else on your mind?”

Euny gives the question serious thought before shaking her head. Azem nods and stands, stretching their arms above their head. “Then I think it’s past time we return to the city. We’ve been gone long enough there will be people wondering at our absence.”

They extend a hand to her, wet and clammy with rain. Euny takes it and they pull her to her feet.

She has traveled with Azem before, with other companions or just the two of them alone. Under normal circumstances, Azem will just not shut up: They delight in pointing out every wonder that crosses their path and catches their eye. Today, however, they are reserved in deference to her mood, breaking the silence only to tell her to watch her step.

Soon enough the spires of Amaurot are looming tall before them and they are passing through the city gates. Euny expects Azem to make their excuses and peel away to find their friends; instead they accompany her, following her lead down the streets. There is nowhere else she needs to be, and so she turns her steps toward home.

They are a mere few minutes and a few blocks from the spacious family suite where she grew up when they catch sight of a familiar mask. The color would identify him even had Euny not already recognized him by his height and his walk, the way he carries himself and the way he turns to look at them.

She stops and rocks back on her heels, struck by the sudden shock of seeing him. He pauses; then he’s moving toward them at his usual ground-eating stride.

“Eunomia,” he says. Then his attention slips to her companion and he inclines his head stiffly. “Azem.”

“Delivery for you, Pashtarot,” Azem says cheerfully. “I found her on the cliffs above the city. Not sure if the carrier got the address wrong.”

Pashtarot pays no attention to their nattering. He is studying Euny, searching for any trace of weakness or distress. She can feel the weight of his gaze beneath his mask.

For a brief, fleeting moment, she realizes that her first instinct when upset was to flee the city. What does that say about her, a born child of Amaurot? What does that say about who she is now?

What does her father see when he looks at her? Who does he think she will become once he has moved on and can no longer keep her under his watchful eye?

Pashtarot does not tell her. He does not speak of it at all. When he speaks at last, it is to say, “You’re soaked through.”

Her first instinct was to leave the city.

Her first thought was to turn to the outside world.

Once she remembers that, she realizes that he must know exactly the type of person she is. Even then he is prepared to return to the star. He trusts that wherever she goes from here, she will continue to be someone he loves and takes pride in.

Euny straightens up. She tilts her head back to look him in the eye. “It’s raining outside Amaurot.”

She speaks with a bright and beaming smile.

[rootedincuteness]

PSA: Common Weather Myths With Fernadette the Fernwitch

 @fishthegenderwitch

Resident Human: “An excellent question, and I happen to have an expert on hand to discuss this. Miss Fernadette is an experienced fernwitch who knows a lot about the natural world. Thank you for coming today, Fernadette.” *shakes arm nub*

Fernadette: “No problem!”

Resident Human: “So... does the blooming of early flowers really mean an extra hot summer is on the horizon?”

Fernadette: *giggles* “No, that’s a myth. Much like a groundhog seeing its shadow meaning six more weeks of winter. There’s no direct correlation between these things. But they are ways that our great, great grandroot ancestors used to explain natural phenomena they didn’t understand. Lets discuss some popular weather myths!”

Fernadette: “Groundhog day (Feb. 2nd) is also the pagan holiday of Imbolc, which is right in the middle between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. The sun is halfway through its travels on its way toward the Spring Equinox, astronomically speaking. The days are starting to get longer, and we can look forward to things like buds, new flowers, and baby chicks, bunnies, and lambs. But beyond that, there’s no way groundhogs can predict more cold weather. Whether or not the groundhog sees its shadow depends only on whether it happens to be very sunny on February 2nd or not! But it is a fun holiday, isn’t it?”

Fernadette: “Now, to your question. Flowers blooming early in the season have no causative effect on how hot Summer is going to be. However, there are some roots - no pun intended, tee hee - in the natural world, both old and new, that are reasons why this has become a perpetuated myth. Old reasons include believing early flowers mean a longer growing season, and therefore a longer amount of time things have to heat up for the Summer, as well as a belief that an early end to winter means a more robust and warmer Spring is driving away the cold.”

Fernadette: “Newer reasons have to do with global warming and climate change. Flowers today in certain parts of the world are blooming almost a month earlier than they were just forty years ago! This is because the Earth has become insulated by greenhouse gases in the atmosphere due to air pollution. Warm sun rays are reflecting back and forth against its surface instead of only once. These chemicals trap heat and light like an incubator effect, so Earth’s temperature has warmed up a lot! Early flowers don’t mean a hot Summer every time, but their early blooming is a symptom of global warming, which results in hotter Summers.”

Fernadette: “As for getting slapped in the face by one or two more wintry blasts in March, yeah, sometimes that happens. It's just temperatures and humidity levels of Winter and Spring ping-ponging a bit before Spring finally sets in. Personally, I would love to have a big snowstorm in March, considering we haven’t had any snow here all Winter long, for the second Winter in a row. Two other common weather myths, that large acorns and squirrels with extra fluffy tails in Autumn mean a super cold and snowy Winter ahead, were seen last Autumn and yet we had no snow this Winter. So you see, things like that don’t have a direct cause and effect relationship with the weather either.”

Fernadette: “But don’t worry, the first flowers of Spring, such as crocuses, hyacinths, tulips, and daffodils, are very resilient. They’re used to blooming early, so they’re not as fazed by cold temperatures as later-blooming flowers are. We’ve had our flowers covered with one of those last-minute March wintry blasts you mentioned, and once the snow melted, they were just fine! A fun fact about snow: it actually helps to insulate and keep plants warm when they’re covered by it. Counterintuitive, I know, but it’s true. It keeps them out of the wind, which is much colder than the outside air, and can protect against freezing rain and sleet. What’s bad for plants is being coated by actual ice for too long, or freezing on the inside, because the ice crystals can damage their cells once they’re thawed.”

Resident Human: “Thank you, Fernadette! This was all very informative.”

Fernadette: “You’re very welcome! Happy to help!”

[agrimedena-drax]

Geography post: Quinque Lupi

Hello! Didn't see you coming for PART 2 of the post about Quinque Lupi to the certain ask!

Part 1 here

Here I will post infos about countries that are present in the world of Quinque Lupi ✨

Let's go!!

~~~

1. Gaulia

citizens - Gauls (variants with darkvision) - no specific skin tones, black sclera

vibe/aesthetic - Britain, Denmark, Finland

outfits - regency era (empire style), little bit of Edwardian here and there, pastels

political system - aristocratic oligarchy/democracy → nobles, rich city folks, middle class, poor

aristocrats’ governments - 2 rooms (Senate and Court of Nobles)

aristocratic titles (from highest to lowest) - duke/duchess/duchet, lord/lady/heir, count/countess/countie

variety of city and villages councils

trade - moon growing plants, wine, noctovision devices, silver, telescopes

weather and climate - summer (rainy, cloudy, but warm and wet), winter (either snowing or pure sky with stars, moons at night and far sun - the days are like dawn)

significant cultural/habit elements - the dress rather pastel, in many colourful variants, their houses are mostly colourful, but the aristocratic ones are rather made out of stone, but the interior are colourful, they are pretty cheerful people, like to celebrate a lot, festivals are really popular there

the energy is taken from moonlight

2. Furidium

citizens - Furidians (with harder skin on palms and feet to prevent fire and mechanical damages) - more darker skin tones

vibe/aesthetic - northern Africa, Middle East

Outfits - however they want with consideration of covering their hair, up until ankles and wrists, very modern and stylish

Political system - monarchy with citizens’ counsellors 

Trade - strong materials who are immune to many types of damage, weapons, fruits, salt

Weather - hot, dry, most of the country covered in deserts, people live in megacities in oases, it’s always warm

They take water from the ocean, the irrigation system is big as the Nile protected by sand, water, engineering and military mages

Cultural elements/habits - covering hair and wearing clothes from neck to wrists and ankles, very proud of their nation, nobody is left alone without work, low number of unemployed people

3. Nazargati

citizens - Gatians (evolved ears that help them hear better, they are pointy and can move in many directions)

vibe/aesthetic - Central/Eastern Asia with British influence

Outfits - very colourful and vibrant, Victorian inspired

Political system - aristocratic oligarchy with hierarchy familiar to monarchy, the regents mostly decide on things, other aristocrats have privileges and normal people can only vote for their representative regent in Lodge of Regents (the cabinet holding power)

Aristocratic titles (from highest to lowest) - regents, dukes, lords, counts

Trade - machinery, scientific equipment, medicines, cars, carriages, trains, modified fruits and vegetables

Weather and climate - tropical, not as hot as it could be, but definitely humid, a lot of tropical flowers and trees, rains a lot, monsoon seasons

4. Medzilas

citizens - Lasans (people with higher physical endurance and statistically harder to get ill)

vibe/aesthetic - Poland, Slovakia, Czech, Ukraine, Hungary, Romania

Outfits - mostly heavy, made out of natural fabrics, Slavic inspired, Polish late 1930s

Political system - democracy with People's Council and House of the Country (both voted by all the citizens, ruled by normal citizens without any aristocratic status) - got set only 18 years prior after lasting 30 years civil war

Weather and climate - not that hot summer, warm and rainy autumns and springs, very cold winters, four seasons, Central European weather

Trade - cold weapon, hay, grain, corn, natural materials, mostly linen, coal and heavy metals

Cultural habits/traditions - there is the massive restoration of culture and traditions after civil war (very Polish culture inspired)

5. Potentium

citizens - Tentians (with the ability with echolocation and sending waves)

vibe/aesthetic - France, Britain, Germany, mostly Roman and brutalistic buildings

Outfits - rather darker colours and more earthy/black tones, inspired by 1960s/1970s

Political system - monarchy - corrupted by Sir Sylas Wiseegoth (magic manipulator), who holds the actual power in his hands

Huge economical problem, only people from elites can afford life in access

High crime rate, a lot of gangs, slow beginnings of rebellion

Huge nest of satellite spies (under Wiseegoth control when activated)

Massive propaganda and indoctrination

Weather and climate - rainy, moist, wet, cloudy, colder, kinda British weather

Trade - stone shippings, metallurgy, leatherwork

Cultural things - graduation parties for all from The Academy, cult of the royalty, culture originating from Gaulia, a lot of events that help hide the poor situation of the country (Expos, conferences etc.), very proud of country

~~~

Those are all the current notes and infos I have on this particular topic. Maybe one day I will have a map? We will see 😅

Thank you for this ask again and sorry for my late response ✨😅

[alypagemage]

Weather app says it’s 12 degrees C - feels like bloody 8 degrees!

And it’s only just getting into Winter proper here in Adelaide TT A TT

Halp

If there is a country where it’s more rainy than it is cold in the Winter months and around 20 degrees C is the hottest it gets there, tell me so that I may move there T_T

((I was thinking of moving to England one day but then I remembered just how cold it can get #no thank you))

[gingerwritess]

Elucien week day 1: flower

I should not have written this today when I have like eleven finals and projects due in two days but oh well

I know it’s a day late but I also didn’t have anything for day 2 soooo enjoy!!

warnings: a little bit of ✨spice✨ and no editing :/

Elain could feel the air.

That was the first sign something was different here.

It was heavy, settling on her skin with the gentlest pressure, like the warm embrace of humidity, only without the sweltering heat.

The second sign was Lucien.

Her focus was drawn to Lucien’s fingers, wrapped tight around hers, as they passed a fallen branch that had been overtaken by moss. Long, slender, and strong, his fingers stroked slowly over her own, and her next breath stuttered.

A few flowers poked out from between the splinters of the fallen branch—black flowers.

A few flowers poked out from between the splinters of the fallen branch—black flowers.

“Wait,” Elain gasped, grabbing Lucien’s arm. “I want to see those.”

She pulled him along behind her and dropped to her knees by the blooms, gaping.

“Those are beautiful,” Lucien commented, reluctantly dropping her hand as she picked one from the dirt.

“They’re black,” Elain whispered in awe. She ran a gentle finger over the single curved petal. “They looked like calla lilies, don’t you think?”

Lucien chewed his lip and nodded. He was sweet like that. Pretending to know what she was talking about. Elain quite liked that about him.

“But they’re actually black,” she breathed, and held it to her nose to take a deep breath of it. “Mm. Black flowers don’t exist naturally in the human lands, all we got was dark purple or dark red. Never actually black.”

She took another breath of it, basking in the musky, heady scent of it, then thrust the flower under Lucien’s nose.

“It smells so good,” she moaned, picking another one and inhaling it again. “Mm. I could smell these all day.”

Lucien gave the flower an experimental sniff—then his eyes rolled back in his head. “Cauldron. Let’s bring some of these back.”

Elain nodded feverishly, hurrying to pull more of the blooms from the fallen branch and the moss surrounding it. Normally she would be gentler with them, snip the stems cleanly, or pull it out from the root; but these…gods, she wanted an armful of them, she wanted to bury her face in them.

The air pressed onto her skin heavier, and she felt a drop of sweat race down her neck.

A soft thump behind her told her Lucien had dropped to his knees, and then he was beside her, pressing against her side as he reached over her to help gather a bundle of the flowers.

“Aren’t flowers not supposed to grow in moss?”

He sounded out of breath—and his heartbeat…it throbbed through her head at a fevered pace, only getting faster as he added to the bundle of blooms in her arms.

“It’s–it’s difficult,” she replied breathlessly, sitting back on her heels as he worked. “I don’t know how it works here, though. Maybe…maybe there’s different rules.”

“Wild magic,” Lucien grunted—he was sweating, now, too, down the arch of his neck, and she wanted to lick—

“What?” she squeaked, cheeks turning cherry red.

“Maybe it’s a rogue bit of magic,” he continued. “You never know, in fae woods. Anything can grow.”

Her gaze dropped to his hands—he was gripping the bark of the fallen branch so tightly his knuckles paled. A vein pulsed in his neck and the corded muscles of his forearms were taut.

He still pressed into her side, pulling another flower from the moss. Every little place they touched was on fire, her arm burning as he brushed it and she caught his eyes flutter closed.

His hair gleamed molten in the scarce sunlight, every shade of red and blood and rubies taunting her as he moved. The muscles of his back rippled as he worked, even through his shirt, and his hands—gods, what was wrong with her—his hands were covered in dirt, slender and so big and she reached out and touched the back of his hand before she could think better of it.

His skin was feverishly hot.

And the moment her fingers brushed the back of his hand, he twisted, those long fingers wrapping around her wrist to pull her to the ground beneath him.

Her mouth dropped open in the faintest gasp—she’d never seen him from this angle.

Braced above her. Hands pinning her wrists down.

Her face, her chest, her skin, her everything heated. She knew it wasn’t embarrassment.

His blood red hair fell around their faces, and it was so strange to see it so loose, so unbound, falling in his face so untamed, that Elain caught her bottom lip between her teeth and reached up to touch his hair.

“What is this,” she breathed, running her fingers through his hair, the locks slipping through them like molten metal.

He blinked—and his face shifted in an instant, falling from something feral to something horrified as he realized the position he’d put them in.

“Sorry,” he gasped, letting go of her wrist and jolting away from her. The black, beautiful flowers, dropped and forgotten the moment he pulled her under him, littered the moss around them.

“I’m so sorry,” he panted, reaching to help her sit up, his hands trembling. “Gods, I don’t—I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me—”

Elain didn’t know either, but she felt it. Everywhere.

“I feel it, too,” she whispered, and grabbed his hand and pressed it to her chest, right above her heart.

Lucien looked like he’d stopped breathing.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” She didn’t want to break this heady spell by speaking louder than a whisper. They were face to face, kneeling in the mossy forest ground, black calla lilies surrounding them, and she leaned just a bit closer, touching her forehead to his.

His lips glistened in the scarce sunlight.

She could hear his gold eye whirring wildly in its socket, but he remained silent, barely breathing, watching as she stared at his parted lips.

“I think…I think it’s the flowers,” Lucien rasped, his hand still hot on her chest. “Definitely ancient magic.”

Cauldron, she loved the way his mouth moved. She could listen to him and watch him talk for hours, mapping the movements of those full lips, the crooked grins he gave her, the way his scar moved with his face.

“You’re ancient magic,” she whispered, and their noses bumped. “Untamed.”

Elain tilted her head and flicked her tongue against his scar.

The way he whispered a pleading curse under his breath set her on fire.

“Wild,” she murmured, and the softest push on his shoulders had him sitting against the fallen branch as she climbed onto his lap and licked his neck. “Sacred.”

“Elain,” he groaned, dirty hands fisting in the moss under him. “Cauldron—”

Gods, those lips. “Say it again,” she said breathlessly, her hands curling into his hair. “My name.”

“Elain.” His eyes were closed.

She hadn’t even kissed him and he was writhing and moaning her name.

“Elain, please—”

She was certain she should be feeling very ashamed for this, for doing this to him, with him, and out in the open air, too—but the world was alight in this forest, and he was here, begging for her, and gods, she needed him.

“Flowers,” Lucien panted, his head thrown back against the branch. His fingers dug into her hips as she leaned back down to his neck. “It’s—mother—flowers, Elain—”

She answered on a heady sigh, grabbing a handful of the flowers he wanted and shoving them into the v of his loose shirt. “Here—they look good, you look—you’re…”

She couldn’t think straight. Between the feel of him, the scent of him, the taste of him, and the scent of those intoxicating flowers, her mind had emptied of every thought but him and the heat coursing through her.

“I’ll winnow,” he gasped, even as he clawed at her muslin dress and curled a dirty hand in her hair.

His body jerked under her—then the whole world followed, and she clung to him, her face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing in the crisp autumn scent of him.

She landed hard on top of him, and he let out a quiet grunt over her shoulder, one of his hands still gripping her waist while the other fisted her hair.

Elain froze as cool, clean air filled her and danced across her skin.

The manor. They were back at the Spring manor, laying together on the sprawling lawn.

What…had she done.

She threw herself off of Lucien and scrambled away from him, taking in the state of him, his tousled hair, flushed cheeks, heaving chest. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted, trying to fix her dress and hair. “I’m so sorry, Lucien, I didn’t mean to do that, I’m so sorry, I don’t—”

“Flowers.”

It came out on a laugh, his eyes still closed.

“What?” Elain asked, distraught as she watched him laugh on the grass. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It was—” he grunted as he pulled himself upright, and took out one of the black flowers she’d tucked in his shirt. “The flowers. Some kind of intoxicant, or a spell, I’m sure.”

She gaped at him. “Really?”

He gave her a small smile, and took the flowers from out of his shirt. “Really.”

“I’m still sorry,” Elain insisted, refusing to look him in the eye. Cauldron, she’d jumped him like a feral beast. “I can’t believe—I’m not like that, you know? I’m so sorry I did that, I—”

Lucien stood as she rambled, gathering the remaining flowers and coming over to press a soft kiss to her cheek. “What do you say we give these to Nesta and Cassian in a bouquet the next time there’s a family dinner?”

Her excuses and apologies stuttered to a halt—and she giggled. Clapped a hand over her furiously flushed face and laughed. “Oh, definitely. That’ll keep things exciting.”

He was so good at that; reminding her that he was in no hurry to rush this delicate sprout of a relationship they had. And what she’d been doing—or about to do—in that forest was certainly rushing things.

She fell into step beside him, still staring at the ground, as he headed back to the manor, talking about how he must wash his hands, for no gentleman should ever have dirty hands for this long a time should he need to use them.

He noticed her silence, or lack of laughter at his antics, and glanced down at her.

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, nudging her arm with his own. “You did nothing wrong. Between the flowers and my devilish good looks I’m shocked we made it back with our clothes on.”

She glared at him, and he grinned right back.

“I feel terrible,” Elain insisted. “I completely…lost control. I’ve never done that. I’m sorry you had to see me like–like that.”

Lucien hummed. “I’m not.”

“Lucien!”

He laughed, reaching down to take her hand in his. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, ashamed of, or to apologize for. We both lost it a bit thanks to these flowers here, but you never even kissed me.”

The way he said it, with the definitive pout at the end, his shoulders sagging a little bit—Elain frowned as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles with a grin.

“No need to sound so disappointed.”

—

@elucienweek

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

tw: depression, abuse mention, derealization

Hi, I feel kind of crazy so idk, this is probably just some teen angst or something, but it's driving me insane so I needed to ask.

So to start off, I'm an upperclassman in high school, living in an abusive home (the one I've lived in my whole life).

I also live in the U.S., so you might know, we just had daylight savings, meaning the weather's getting warmer, it's getting sunnier for longer, etc.

Ok so I know I have depression, I have my whole life, but I think... idk. I think there's something else wrong with me. lol. I think I have SAD (seasonal affective disorder). but... it's all wrong? I think it's like, idk, summer SAD?

I know it probably sounds stupid, but it's not even that I have to be home with my family more during the summer, because I think this happens pretty much every year, but I didn't notice bc I just attributed it to the abuse.

The sun is up and out more and everything is warm and sunny and kind of of brighter and I feel horrible and awful and I'm dissociating more than usual.

I miss the winter where I felt free and raw and so fucking real and alive. I love the darkness and the openness and how there's so much air and life and now it's all going away.

People say it's ridiculous or even impossible to miss the cold dark days but I do and I feel ridiculous about it.

But it's been two days in daylight savings and I feel awful. I like some of the quiet summer/spring early mornings and the occasional late night, but for the most part summer just feels like foggy brain, hot, uncomfortable skin, and just a general weight and oppressiveness.

I'm NOT talking politically, but I want to be some place like Russia (I don't mean this in a rude way) where it's cold and big and open. I look at the weather in Russia throughout the day to relax myself because it's in the negatives (F) and stuff and I just. I want to feel like that again.

I'm sorry if this is too long, I feel really dumb, but I just don't know how I'm going to get through the warm months, when all I want is to be cold and free again.

Hey anon,

That doesn't sound stupid or unreasonable. You're definitely not alone in what you're experiencing. Seasonal depression can hit in spring. This is just as valid and real as seasonal depression that occurs in autumn and winter.

One thing I suggest is trying to get outside and open windows in the early hours of the morning and late hours of the night. When the sun starts to set, it'll get cooler and less humid, depending on where you live. Take time to be mindful in these moments that the weather is more like autumn and winter.

Here is an article about SAD in Spring. Here is more information.

Don't be afraid to reach out. You deserve support for this. Your experiences are valid.

Take care.

- Misa

[stormonroe]

Upgrading Your Office Air Conditioning

Business owners have so much to worry about these days. Chances are, upgrading your workplace AC is probably the last thing on your mind. However, if you suffered troubles with your office air conditioner throughout summer, you’d be very smart to think about upgrading it now instead of waiting until spring.

While it’s tempting to wait until spring to deal with your office AC problems, the fact is that autumn and winter can really be the best periods to buy a new office air conditioner. Read on to learn why, as well as critical facts you need to make an informed decision and obtain the best available cost.

Here’s why it’s worth taking the time now to deal with your air conditioning problems.

1. There’s time to make sure you actually need a new office AC

When your unit fails in the middle of a heat wave (which can happen in March, thanks global warming!), you have little time to be sure you’re doing the right thing by replacing your AC. Can you get more life out of your old unit? Or would a retrofit be a cost-effective option? Now you have the chance to find out.

Since you don’t have to be in a haste to decide, receive an unbiased appraisal of your system’s status. It's possible that you won't get that from your present HVAC service provider (especially if they don't conduct installations), because they are making money every time your old office air conditioning equipment fails. 

To be sure that the air conditioning firm you hire is skilled and experienced in commercial air conditioning, it is in your best interest to obtain a second opinion from a respected air conditioning company. Look for a company that performs both installs and repairs as a large component of their business so that you can be confident that their recommendations are not influenced by their own financial interests. It is possible to make an informed decision about whether to repair or replace your workplace air conditioning system with the help of the proper service provider.

2. There is more time to explore equipment possibilities and make an educated decision on what to buy.

Do not make the mistake of simply purchasing a newer version of the office air conditioner you now have if it turns out that upgrading your business air conditioner is the best alternative for you. Remember, you'll be live with the consequences of your decision for the next 10 to 20 years! Fall and winter provide ample opportunity to conduct thorough study and make an informed decision.

When looking for a replacement commercial air conditioning system, there are numerous significant considerations to consider. These include:

System type is defined as follows: There are modern HVAC technologies (like as VRF technology, which is detailed below) that are ideally suited for office spaces, but if you stick with what you've got, you won't even be aware of them.

The size of the system (or capacity). When it came to air conditioning systems, it used to be believed that more was better. As a result, many buildings ended up with systems that were far too large for their requirements. Now we know better: big office air conditioning units are ineffective at eliminating humidity, generate hot and cold areas, and raise your energy expenses significantly.

This challenge is exacerbated by the fact that office spaces are becoming more energy efficient, which further reduces the demand for air conditioning. All of this means that if you happen to have a large workplace air conditioning unit right now (which is likely if it was built 15 to 20 years ago), you'll be in even worse shape if you replace it with a system with the same capacity as the one you were using before. As an alternative, have a professional perform a proper load calculation to determine the appropriate system sizing for your requirements.

Design of the HVAC system. It is not only about the workplace air conditioning equipment that you select that will provide the comfort conditions your company requires. It also necessitates the proper design of the HVAC system. This refers to the size and placement of ducts and other ventilation systems. Now is the moment to make certain that you are not just purchasing the correct unit, but also a system design that will provide constant and dependable comfort in your business.

Third, there are numerous ways to obtain favorable price

As a business owner or manager, you are most likely aware of the impact of demand on pricing. As a result, you'll realize why you can receive a better deal on a replacement office air conditioning unit during the off-season. Simply put, there is less demand.

Additionally, suppliers may have systems available that were not sold over the summer and are prepared to sell at a discount in order to make place for new models that will be released in the spring market. If you wait until March, you will have little chance of getting these offers because everyone will be trying to sell you the latest model at the highest possible price. Then there'll be a long line of people attempting to get an air conditioner before the first hot weather arrives.

VRF systems are a novel technology that is particularly well suited for office environments. Here are just a handful of the reasons why you should:

Zoned comfort is a good thing. It is much easier to design bespoke cooling zones when using VRF. It is possible to have more cooling in a packed conference room or computer room, and less cooling in a sunny corner office, depending on the situation.

Operation at a low volume. Consider the possibility of no more blaring fans that make it difficult to hear phone conversations!

Efficiencies in energy use. These office air conditioning systems are designed to operate at a fraction of their full capacity, consuming less energy and lowering your power bills.

Controls that are up to date. You know that cool thermostat you have at home that you can control with your smartphone? Well, this is for you. A VRF system provides the same level of control for your office's air conditioning as a traditional system.

[cyborgbuddy]

14 15 16 38!!

Hi thank you!!

14. What’s your favorite color?

Honestly this is such a hard question but I really like the dark deep blues and purples. I like a lot of the cooler colors though. Something special to me about the more transitionary colors like blue-purple, cyan, deep pink

A lot of my actual blog page kinda follows the palette of the colors I really like

15. What’s your favorite season?

Winter but I think that's cause I live somewhere where that's the only season that isn't crazy hot or humid. I think I'd like spring more if I lived somewhere more moderate. I'd like totally get liking summer if I didn't live somewhere that was like, 95 degrees 60% humidity every day for six months lol

I like the kind of weather that's like, too cold for a t-shirt and too hot for a full coat (not that it gets that cold here ever anyway) and that's exactly how winter is where I'm at. I think the clothes I have and my sense of fashion is best when it's weather for sweaters, long pants, etc. I look so lame in a t-shirt but that's all I can wear most of the year here

The times I have been up north, autumn was honestly super cool since it had that kind of weather and all the trees had red and orange leaves and shit. It might seem super mundane but since we don't get that down here it was genuinely super cool to actually see in person. Same with snow but I get how it's probably kinda annoying after a while

16. Want any tattoos? What of?

Yessss I would love a tattoo

The thing is that I'm a lil weird and anxious about what I put on my body, like I don't know if I like anything enough to get a tattoo of it, but I think I would look a lot cooler with one ya know

My best idea for one is to get one that's on the upper arm and wraps around it kinda like this

I have some friends and acquaintances that are pretty professional artists and a couple I know have actually designed for tattoos and I'd probably ask them for a more legit design. I can't justify spending money on a tattoo right now though >.<

38. Do you have any phobias?

Not really....heights is just about the only one really and I'm not too afraid of that anyway. I used to be super afraid of death but I got over that mostly

Link to the asks

Thank you!!! This was fun

[suoyou]

[wip] 一日三秋; one day, three autumns

1633 words, rated t.

a complete chapter 2 in an incomplete series of oneshots titled 一日三秋; one day, three autumns, in which wwx is the autumn king and lwj is the winter prince.

ch 1.

they say that missing someone is the most powerful force of pain a person will know. a pain that can wilt the heart. a pain to carry. a pain that can turn one day into three autumns.

In the middle of Lan Wangji’s left thigh is a scar, round and hollow in the center, like a coin. It had been a burn once, angry blisters deadening into a purple keloid into, now, a little white moon on his skin. 

Of the five floors of the castle, Lan Wangji is only allowed in three. Evidently, little does it matter that he is the only other heir to the Winter Throne should his brother ever be incapable of holding it; he’s often pictured how woefully unprepared he would be should the Kingdom of Summer ever revolt again, or, as the Defectress Luo Qingyang had promised, if the Autumn King showed up seeking revenge. 

For what, Lan Wangji doesn’t know. 

“You don’t need to know,” has always been his uncle’s reply. 

“You won’t need to know if I have any say in it,” is what his brother says, kind, still double-edged.

“You should know,” said the Defectress Luo Qingyang, over her teacup, and jade has never looked so threatening, “that your kingdom is still carrying out the crimes of war right under your nose, and if your family does not wake up, the Autumn Kingdom will leave the decade-long peace treaty in the dust the same way you have.” She said it all like she was simply commenting on the races. The Jin Imperial Family was winning. 

“How do you know? What kind of war crimes?” asked Lan Wangji. He’d spoken too brusquely, but Luo Qingyang hadn’t been fazed. All around them, the Dragon Boat Festival surged on, air humid and painted green-red-blue, an overfull tea kettle of a day. “Why is it your concern?”

“That you think it shouldn’t be my concern is the same line of thinking that got your Kingdom into this mess,” she said, and her words have been ringing in Lan Wangji’s ears ever since, an unwelcome jabber of sparrow song and raven squawks that won’t leave him hours later. The telltale signs of spring. She holds her position well. 

“What kind of war crimes?” he repeated.

She’d taken her time sipping the rest of her tea before placing her empty cup on the table to be taken away. “Do you recall, when the Wen Imperial Family went rogue and the Snowfire Wars tore the lands apart,” she said, “there was a division of mages known as the Core Reapers?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t really believe, do you, that they simply vanished after those wars?”

Lan Wangji had stared at her. 

The Core Reapers had vanished after the Snowfire Wars. They’d ridden through the war-torn battlegrounds after blood had been spilled like red ghosts, gathering the dying bodies of civilians and mages alike to, as Lan Wangji had heard, harvest their cores. Word was that the Wen Imperial Family was creating elixirs, weapons, medicines out of them. Hearsay had it that they were creating monsters. 

He stares at his scar now, where his jade pendant had burned him through three layers of clothing thirteen years ago, and had never lit up again. In the dusk of the evening, it’s almost invisible, as if it had  never existed—vanished, like the Reapers, after the war. 

Lan Wangji stands up and shrugs his outer robe back on. Unthinkingly, he opens the drawer where he keeps that pendant, like it’ll have answers for him. It doesn’t. Jade does not dull with age, but in the red velvet of the drawer it could be leached bone. A small one—a skull bone. 

Lying beside it is its bonded match. Once they had been identical, though Lan Wangji’s pendant was wrapped in blue ribbon. The other is broken on one side and missing a segment, red knotting and tassels unraveled, the jade circle incomplete like a horseshoe. When the Snowfire Wars raged around him, Lan Wangji wore his half of the pair with more attention and care than when he carried his sword.

“Wangye,” his attendant inclines her head when he opens his pavilion doors. 

“I have some personal work to attend to. Can you see to it that, if any of my family seeks me, to let them know I will greet them accordingly when I return?”

“Yes, Wangye.”

So he goes. 

Three of the Kingdom’s floors are aboveground. Two are below. He’s been to three in the middle—never the topmost, never the bottomost, and he’s not sure what he’s looking for. He has to look, to be sure, or else it will be another evening of Luo Qingyang’s voice in his head, jerking him awake long before dawn.

Strange dreams have been plaguing him since the Dragon Boat festival, the sorts of dreams that someone would tell themselves didn’t mean anything. The night of the festival Lan Wangji had gone to bed and found himself in a place where the sun never set, simply bobbing up and down in the sky, turning from green to gold and back again as the days and nights passed. Then, the next night, the scar on his thigh had opened up and begun bleeding afresh, and no matter what magic he used, it would not stop. The more magic he used, the more blood poured down his leg. 

Last night, he dreamed of Wei Ying. Not in the way he’d been in life, so bright that Lan Wangji couldn’t bear to look at him sometimes. 

The Kingdom of Winter had been blanketed in snow for their cycle, and Lan Wangji was in the woods outside the royal walls alone. A dark sweep of Core Reapers had passed by. Their hoods had been drawn over their heads. It looked as if the entire forest was bleeding. 

One of them in the center of their tight pool of red had paused and turned their heads, and under the scarlet, mink-lined hood had been Wei Ying’s face. 

Lan Wangji shakes himself as he greets the guards that stand outside the gates into the Kingdom’s undergrounds. A question floats through their expressions but they open the gates for him without question, bowing again as he passes. 

He picks his way through the first underground level without wasting his time. Here they keep their forbidden texts, their spoils of war, here they hold sensitive political meetings. A damp, sweet smell of soil clutches fat little hands at his robes, happy for visitors, and he raises his hand to upright some of the overgrown vines and planters that line the walls. His hand glows a dim blue, and the drooping foliage picks its flower heads up again. Blooms are coming. 

Even if he’s never made the descent into the lowest floor of the Kingdom, Lan Wangji knows there are two ways to get there—the prisoners’ entrance in the Pavilion of Discord, and the one he faces now. The jailers’ entrance, through the Hall of Justice. 

He doesn’t feel particularly just, facing the round door that he knows will take him down the staircase into the Kingdom’s dungeons.  

Blue fires light his way. 

In times of peace, there aren’t many prisoners to speak of. The few that the Kingdom of Winter persecutes are petty thieves, suspected spies, and the occasional revolutionist, all of which are bent into fearful submission before they ever even make it to the dungeons. Lan Wangji knows it. He’s seen it. 

And he’s right, almost, for at least part of the dungeon. It’s bright and clean, with mainly empty cells, but the blue fires end abruptly in the middle of the long walkway between the rows. There are scuffles, noises of things living, hushed in the gloom. He pauses and strains his eyes. Then he lifts his hand, summoning some of the fires in the torches to his palm to light his way. 

He doesn’t know what he expects to see. Prisoners, perhaps, curled up like hungry mice. 

The icy sheen of his fire falls over the bodies in the cells, and Lan Wangji frowns before he steps back, breath stuttering in his chest. 

They are prisoners. It’s the most human thing left about them. Some of them have lost all their hair, ragged clumps gathering in rolls thick as dead cats beside them. Others have clawed their own backs bloody, as if they’d been trying to dig their own spines out of their bodies, and still others were covered in a thick, tarry ooze, as if blood and lymph had leaked out of them and gained its own sentience. One of them lay in silence with a stained white strip of cloth over his eyes, a line at his neck like his head had been stitched back on. 

Lan Wangji’s stomach writhes, hot and sick, in his belly. 

The end of the walkway widens into a larger chamber where no one is kept, but as he passes his fire over the space he can make out the outlines of odd contraptions—long rods with fluted holes, boards with three holes in them—one larger, two smaller, for a neck and hands. A splintered wooden gurney like a rotting log. Old blades sprout off of it like oyster mushrooms. They blink sleepily back at him, eyes in the night. A bizarre device like a chair, outfitted with two horns on both sides. Anyone sitting in it would have their head position between the mouths of both. 

He frowns. A long skein of red fabric has been tossed carelessly over the back of the chair, wrinkles rounded and warm. A cloak. Someone’s just taken it off. 

“Wangji,” a voice comes from behind him, “what are you doing down here?”

[thewanderers-world]

Nicaragua vs. South Korea: Which is Better?

By: Lilyan Sanchez Silva

Many just want to explore, some may feel the need to escape their reality. Here, I’ll be breaking down two touristic countries. Comparing and contrasting, while also going in depth with their economic systems. At the end, you will choose which you’d make an escape to and which will remain unchecked on your travel list.

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NICARAGUA

This Central American country, neighboring Honduras and Costa Rica, holds a number of titles, and you can add the largest lake in Central America to the list. With a view to both the Pacific Ocean and Caribbean Sea on opposite ends of the country, it’s no wonder Nicaragua means “here united with the water”. Imagine a nice walk down the beach, doesn’t it sound amazing?!

----------------------------The Culture----------------------------

The merging of different cultures within Nicaragua has caused the dawn of a creative, lively and blissful culture. Rhythmic marimbas and folkloric dances give vibrancy to fiestas across the country and the beautiful works of skilled artists spread an understanding of their history and nature.

The culture of Nicaragua reflects the mixed Ibero-European and Indian ancestry of the majority of its people. Diversity, I love it!

---------------------------The Weather---------------------------

Nicaragua has a tropical climate, hot all year round.

Temperatures are quite stable; however, there is a relatively cool winter from November to January, a hot spring from March to May, and a sultry and rainy summer from May to October. On the west coast, it's hot all year round, but there are the sea breezes. However, you may notice a certain temperature increase in the spring. On the Caribbean coast, there is no real dry month; owing to both the rains and the trade winds, the temperatures are a bit lower than on the west coast, but relative humidity is consistently high.

What’s a little rain to this magnificent view?

----------------------The Economic System-------------------

Nicaragua's economy is very active and has experienced great changes during the past decade or so. Its economy was truly a phoenix emerging from the ashes. The cause behind Nicaragua’s past economic problems stemmed from the earthquake of 1972 as well as the rule of the Sandinista regime. Nicaragua’s economic situation improved dramatically with the 1990 election of Violeta Chamorro and the establishment of a democracy. Nicaragua has a mixed economic system which includes a variety of private freedom, combined with centralized economic planning and government regulation.

Despite the expansive growth in Nicaragua’s economy that took place after the new form of government came in, Nicaragua remains one of the poorest countries in the region and faces issues such as unemployment, low per capita income and great foreign debt. Nicaragua’s economy is working towards improvement in the future, focusing on potential growth in the agricultural sector, energy generation, tourism, export manufacturing, mining and construction, as well as the sale of consumer goods.

With all this budding potential, Nicaragua is the perfect place to invest in, especially in the tourism aspect.

---------------Where to go & What to do---------------

Fun activities to do in Nicaragua include, but are not limited to: Eco-tourism; adventure and sports activities, including surfing, deep-sea fishing, swimming, snorkeling, kayaking, diving, volcano sand-boarding; historical and agricultural sites; cultural activities; agritourism; volunteerism; nightlife. Just enjoying the sun and all the different smells wile walking down the market would be wonderful. Nicaragua has lots to offer.

Towns like San Juan Del Sur on the Pacific Ocean's Emerald Coast near Costa Rica are top places to visit, famous for their colorful architecture and surf scene. Many things to do really lie in the smaller cities, like Leon and Granada, which are known for their colorful architecture and churches, and natural attractions such as Lake Nicaragua. It is the largest freshwater lake in Central America and home to hundreds upon hundreds of islands, including some with amazing ecolodges. Here are the Top 5 places to visit while exploring Nicaragua!

1. Islets of Granada

2. Corn Island

3. Masaya Volcano

4. El Cerro Negro

5. Mombacho Volcano Natural Preserve

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SOUTH KOREA

South Korea is a country in Eastern Asia occupying the southern half of the Korean Peninsula. It borders the Sea of Japan, the Yellow Sea, and North Korea. In the year 1934, Korea was given the title "Chaohsien" which meant morning freshness. The title was well suited to South Korea because of its natural beauty of stunning mountains, clear waters and splendid peacefulness – particularly in the morning. Because of this, Korea was also called "Land of Morning Calm."

In a country filled with city lights and multitudes of people, a little calmness in the morning is just what you need to start the day out right!

------------------------The Culture-------------------------------

Korea is all about education, constantly ranked world-best in terms of education system and the knowledge of students as studies such as the PISA and the World Top 20 Poll suggests. They’re also quite unique when it comes to asking their age. In Korea, everyone is already one year old at birth. And not only that: on New Year’s, everyone simultaneously turns a year older! That means, in turn, that in Korean age, you could already be two years older than you are in an international age. In Korea, people love to have a good time and they also love entertainment. But they are not crossing the line—pun intended. Even in bustling Seoul, you will rarely see non-tourists jaywalking or misbehaving. It’s part of the identity and the culture to not cause too much trouble or problems for others.

The Korean entertainment industry is also becoming one of the biggest in the world. K-pop, k-movies, k-drama, k-beauty… the K’s all around! The catchy beats, colorful soap operas and gripping dramas are invading countries around the world with a massive force, and they are here to stay. No genre of media is excluded: Film, literature, graphic novels, language, food, fashion…you name it. But arguably the genre with the biggest global impact is the new wave of Korean pop music, commonly referred to as K-pop, with its addicting melodies and innovative choreographies. You know BTS?

----------------------------The Weather---------------------

South Korea has a temperate climate with four distinct seasons. Winter, from late November to mid-March, is freezing in the north and in the interior, while it’s milder, but still with night frosts, along the southern coast. Spring, from mid-March to May, is initially cool, and gradually becomes milder, but the rains become more frequent because of the formation of low pressure systems. Summer, from June to August, is hot, humid, and rainy. Autumn, from September to late November, is a pleasant season, especially in the month of October, when it’s not too cold or too hot. 

Serious droughts occur about once every eight years. About two-thirds of the annual precipitation occurs between June and September. South Korea is less vulnerable to typhoons than neighboring countries. Typhoons usually pass over South Korea in late summer, especially in August and bring torrential rains.  

The weather may be crazy, but the sights are worth it, rain or shine!

-------------------The Economic System------------------

South Korea’s economy continues to maintain its ranking among the mostly free countries. It has a mixed economic system in which the economy includes a variety of private freedom, combined with centralized economic planning and government regulation. South Korea has achieved rapid growth in a short period. The country has displayed global competitiveness in various fields such as mobile phones, semiconductors, automobiles, chemicals, and steel making. In recent years, its cultural content, including music, gaming, and webtoons, is emerging as an essential industry in itself, taking the lead in the Korean economy.

South Korea's rigorous education system and the establishment of a highly motivated and educated populace is largely responsible for spurring the country's high technology boom and rapid economic development.

-------------------Where to go & What to do---------------

Travelers will want to indulge in all that South Korea has to offer like: Enjoy delicious Korean food, Explore Seoul on foot, Witness the grandeur of Changdeokgung and Gyeongbokgung Palaces, Learn about traditional Hanok architecture, Be a street artist, Check out free museums, Glide down the ski slopes from the 2018 Winter Olympics, Visit the temples,  Take a trip to Busan, Experience a botanical garden island, and visiting Jeju-Si Island. The different architecture between residential places and the city alone is astonishing!

South Korea offers everything a traveler could want in a destination. It has a long and fascinating history, a wonderful culture, amazing food, friendly people, and an excellent tourism infrastructure. Here are the Top 5 places you must absolutely think back on when planning your trip:

1. Changdeokgung Palace

2.  Gamecheon   

3. Jeonju

4. Seoul Tower 

5. Bukchon Hanok Village

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 So Which One?      

This may be a very biased answer, but being from Nicaragua, I’d say take an off-grid vacation. Although known for its tourism, you don’t loose the quiet peaceful atmosphere. Its rural landscape extends even to the most populated cities, adorning the country in a cloud of green and crystal blue waters everywhere you look. The gates are open, which life-thrilling destination will you choose?                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

[akinnie75]

Until Spring (1/2)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slow Burn, Romance, Angst, Fantasy

Word Count: 17k

Summary: Freesia Island has the greenest Summer, calmest Autumn, and purest Winter. But their Spring has so many flowers that the land itself becomes a rainbow. It’s a place that you’ve always wanted to travel to after hearing the tales of that island. And one day, you finally got to be there in person, but not being forced into an unwanted marriage by the king himself.

“Once upon a time, there were four gods who were in charge of watching over the four seasons of earth: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. One day, the God of Spring, was on earth when he fell in love with a flower name Freesia. Every day and night, they would see each other, sharing tales, singing, and laughing. Each second they spent was valuable because, deep down, they both knew that time was ticking—that Spring will have to leave once his time on Earth has ended.

“The day came to an end, and eventually the God of Summer came, but without mercy. The sun pierced Freesia, drying her of water. Then came the God of Autumn, deteriorating her once beautiful petals. Lastly, the God of Winter was the most cold-hearted of them all, making Freesia suffer in the freezing temperature.

“When Spring finally returned, he was heartbroken when he discovered that his beloved flower withered to the ruthlessness of the other three seasons. He cried, and cried, and cried. And once he was done, he stood up and wasted no time growing flowers again, in hopes that one day, Freesia would blossom and return.”

By the side of your futon, your mother sits on her knees. With you tucked into bed, your mother is astonished to discover you covered in tears.

Complementing your tears is the sound of cicadas crying. Since the humid summer is here, the house is victim to the moist air. To distract the six-year-old you from the humidity, your mother thought it was best to tell you a story.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

“That’s so sad! Did Spring ever find Freesia?” You ask with an expression that begs for a happy ending.

“No...the God of Spring is still looking for her.”

You look as if you’re about to release a lake’s worth of tears. To prevent that from doing so, your mother hurriedly thinks of anything to soothe you.

“B-but that’s why people of Freesia Island hold the Blossom Festival every first day of Spring! Everyone there feels the same way as you do, so they also want to help Spring find his loved one.”

“Has it worked?”

“I’m not sure, but with the help of thousands of people, I’m certain that they reunited.”

You sigh in relief, and your mother chuckles at your naivety.

“How do you know? Did you see them?”

“No...I’ve never been to Freesia Island, but your father has.”

“Really?!” You sit up from your bed, jumping up and down excitedly. “Is it true that the island changes color every season?”

Your mother nods. “Yup. Your father told me that Summer has fields of green. Autumn has the reddest leaves, and Winter covers the entire land with white snow.”

Your jaw drops, imagining what each season looks like with your limited imagination. Even without a clear picture, it excites you.  Born and raised on a tropical island where every season is just hot, you don’t know how it feels like to experience four seasons. You thought that seasons didn’t exist.

“But your father said that the most beautiful season is Spring. There are so many different colors that you lose count of  how many colors there are”

You grab your mother’s arm and shake it. “When I get older, let’s go to Freesia Island and help Freesia and Spring find each other again! Please??”

She chuckles. “Sure! Your father is good friends with King Kim, after all. One day, we’ll go, the three of us.”

You’re excited about the future. While thinking about all the things you and your parents are doing, you lay back down, staring at the ceiling made of dried palm tree leaves. In your innocent, little mind, you promise that you’ll be the one to reunite the two lovers. You close your eyes, falling asleep to the sound of the cicadas crying endlessly.

———

SPRING

At the top of a cliffside, you walk in your bare feet, holding a wooden bowl. Inside it is an array of fruits. Standing before you is a tombstone. After stepping closer, you get on your knees, letting the tips of your fingers stroke the name etched onto the stone, spelling your mother’s name.

Below the stone is an empty bowl with rotten fruits. There’s a trail of black ants taking pieces to their colony, and the smell is horrible since it’s been under the scorching sun all day. You brush the ants off, picking it up and replacing it with a new set of colorful fruits.

“Good morning, Mom. Did you sleep well?”

Unsurprisingly, there’s no response.

“These little pests keep taking your food away, huh? Either that or they’re taking it to you somewhere in the afterlife,” You change to a fetal position, your arms hugging your knees as you hold it close to your chest. “Did you know that they just celebrated my eighteenth birthday a few days ago? Dad ate so much roasted pork that he didn’t leave any for me!”

Despite passing away many years ago, you still vividly remember her smile. She was the most beautiful woman ever that you’ll never compare to her.

“I have to tell you what happened yesterday too! It was hilarious.”

You go on for hours, chatting with the stone about your day yesterday. Even though your voice drifted away into the vast jungle, you still spoke like there was another person listening. You strongly believed in a life after death, so you were certain that your mother heard every word.

Sitting next to the tombstone, your shoulder leans on it while you stare off the cliff. From a distance, you can see your small village, and on the side, there are squares of plantations. This is the place that you’ve known since the day you were born. Although it was your childhood dream to wander off the island, you can’t imagine a better place to live in than Pitaya Island.

“The village has changed a lot. Most of the villagers are old, so I have to be the one responsible for physical labor. It’s so tiring! Don’t tell Dad, but I think he’s getting old too..” You whisper.

You chuckle, but it doesn't last long.

“Granny still cries for you, you know? Every year, on your birthday. We all celebrate it…”

You pluck a single grass from the ground, peeling the slim plant in half.

“...But it doesn’t feel like we do. It’s more like...we’re mourning. Even Dad—the toughest man in the entire land—cries,” you turn your head at the stone, smiling. “I try not to cry. I’m going to become the next ruler of this land, right? I have to show the people what I’m made of.”

You lay down, not noticing that the ants have now claimed the fresh fruits. You drown yourself to the sound of birds humming melodies and bushes being brushed against the wind. With the blazing sun beaming, you put your hand over it, casting a shadow over your face.

Your throat is dry from all the talking, but you still want to say more. You knew your mother only for a few years, but you two had a close relationship. You told her everything, and it felt like she told you everything. Even now after she’s dead, she’s the one who you talk to the most.

“Hey...Mom...sometimes I wish you can respond to me. I know I said that before...but whenever I talk to you, I feel like I’m going insane. I think for once...I’d like to hear your voice one more time.”

You’re silent for a few seconds, not shocked that your wish won't come true. You scoff at your outrageous wish. It isn’t like a dead person can answer you.

That’s when you hear the sound of someone shouting. You sit up, staring at your mother’s grave, thinking that she came back to life. However, the scream was too far for it to be your mother. It was almost like an echo.

You stare straight at your village, discovering that the source of the shout came from there. You hadn’t noticed it before, but you see the villagers running about and shouting. Instantaneously, you knew that there was something happening. You’re quick to your feet, sprinting down the hill as fast as you can.

———

Once you make it back, you glide behind a tree, your back hitting against the trunk. You peer over to see what the commotion is. There’s a group of foreigners walking about, terrorizing the people. Children are crying and elderly women are screaming. The old men are shaking, unable to move from their spot. The village has become a wreck, with baskets of fruits and seeds tossed over and huts destroyed.

These foreigners with pale skin and dressed in linen clothes kick those who are crawling on their hands and knees, laughing at their pitiful state. You cover your mouth, petrified to see the sight before you. Just hours ago, your village was in peace, everyone going along their daily lives.

Your hands and knees are trembling, barely being able to stand properly. Your people are in harm’s way, but your cowardice is preventing you from saving them. You’re afraid to get into the crossfire. While no one has spotted you yet, you think it might be the perfect opportunity to escape.

However, your pride reignites when you see your father. The man that you admire the most, fighting against one of the enemies. He and his opponent exchange swings, sparks flying when the blades collide. You root for your father, praying that his massive strength will scare the man away.

But that hope drains in an instant when the man, being younger, swiffer, and stronger than your father, seizes him within seconds. He deflects your father’s swing, putting so much force that the sword goes flying out of his hands. He then kicks your father, making him fall to his knees. To see your father—the who your idol—on his knees in front of the enemy’s feet is an ultimate defeat.

His opponent stares down at your father, not an ounce of sympathy. Even from the distance where you’re at, you can see the hollowness in his eyes. It’s almost as if his eyes are entirely covered with black.

With the last of his pride, your father snarls at the man. There’s an emblem on his shirt, one that you don’t recognize but one he knows too well.

“You…do not deserve to wear the emblem of Freesia.” Your father mutters in anguish.

He growls at the young man, and still, no reaction. It’s just those damp eyes of his, glaring down at him. To end his misery, the man raises his sword, prepared to end his life.

That’s when you couldn’t just stand there any longer. You don’t know where this surge of confidence came from, it might’ve been because you were afraid to lose another precious person, but what you do know is that you have to stop this.

You grab your father’s fallen sword, nearly losing your balance for clumsily picking it up. And just like that, you were successful in making your sword collide with the man’s weapon. You hit so hard that you made a crack in the blade. The man’s sword flies out of his hand, absolutely astonished with what just occurred in those few seconds. You give him a ferocious glare, standing right in between him and your father. Although cracked, you point the tip of the sword directly at his face.

Your sudden appearance makes time itself freeze. Everybody has their eyes on you, waiting for your next move. However, you don’t have another move. You impulsively came out of hiding after seeing your father in danger. You were willing to do anything to protect him, but now you’re stuck in a position where you can lose your life.

To your amazement, the man doesn’t make a second attempt to fight back. He gets into a casual posture, loosening his body and putting his hand to his hip. In contrast to his calm demeanor, your sword still points at his nose.

“I was unaware that the king had a daughter.” The man speaks, but to whom, you don’t know.

You raise an eyebrow, questioning why he would care.

“You’re not just any princess. You have the guts to get in between a fight between two men.” He says with a stoic expression.

“Wh-wh-who are you?!” You attempted but failed to hide your stutter. “L-leave this island at once.”

“(Y/N), what are you doing?! Leave while you still can.” Your father exclaims.

“So your name is (Y/N). A unique one that I’ve never heard of. I am King Jungkook from Freesia Island.”

Freesia…Island? It wasn’t registering immediately, but after giving it some time, your jaw drops at the revelation that this man is the ruler of Freesia. You thought that the people there are kind, including the king. What happened?

“King Jungkook? Where is the former king??” Your father shouts.

“King Kim? My father defeated him in a battle and won, pronounced as king for decades until his late passing, passing the responsibility to me.”

“King Kim…is dead…?” Your father asks in disbelief.

You have no clue what’s unfolding. There’s an untold story that your father kept from you, and you’re itching to know.

Jungkook grabs the blade with his hand. You tighten the grip to keep it raised, but with him wearing a leather glove and being stronger than you, he was able to pull it down in no time.

“You have the courage of a soldier, but there’s no real fierceness in your eyes,” he states. “I did not come here to fight.”

He raises his hands in the air to admit defeat.

“ I came here with the intention to negotiate. It was your people who started it.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure if this is a trick or if he means it. Your father finally gets back on his feet, pulling you back to protect you.

“What is it that you want? Take it and leave my people alone.”

Jungkook looks around the village, only stopping when his eyes are locked on the plantations of pitaya plants.

“That,” he points. “I want the exotic fruits that you grow. My land has been decreasing in food exports due to lack of rain.”

“And what do we get in exchange for this?”

“Protection. We raided your island without issue. No one, besides you and your daughter, was capable enough to stand against us. And yet, you both failed. There are no walls to defend you people from danger, and I heard rumors that pirates occasionally pay a visit.”

Your father gulps. Jungkook is true, which you find terrifying. How much did he study before coming here? Despite the beauty of this island being isolated from the rest of the mainland, the land consists of only children and elderly people. There have been so many pirate attacks that most people your age have died from risking their lives to protect their loved ones.

“I will extend my military base here, and whenever there is a raid, then there shouldn’t be a problem.”

The fruits grown here is your island’s pride and glory. They are the symbols that make your people stand out from others. To have them conquered by foreigners breaks your heart.

Your father is hesitant to agree with the negotiation. When he looks around, he’s in no position to fight Jungkook again. Even if he was successful in landing a strike on him, is men can group around and kill him. Having no choice but to admit defeat, your father lowers his head.

“I...I acce—”

“And one more thing.”

Jungkook’s gaze turns to you, and a chill runs down your spine.

“To finalize our negotiation and officially connect our two kingdoms together, I’ll also marry (Y/N).”

“What?!” Both you and your father exclaimed in unison.

You beg that it’s only an unfunny joke, but that serious expression of his tells you otherwise. Why take more when he’s already taken what’s important?

“Marriage is to signify an alliance, correct? It’s similar to signing a contract. I’ll take her with me to make sure that you won’t do anything behind my back. In addition to that, I do need someone who knows how to farm these plants on my land.”

“That isn’t a marriage! That’s taking hostage! You’ve already taken more than necessary...but my daughter...she’s the only person valuable I have left.” Your father’s voice cracks.

It’s hard to hear your father sound so weak. He’s trying to stand tall for everyone, but you see his hands shaking.

“Then...are you willing to sacrifice your people for your daughter?”

“That’s enough!” You shout. “This...this is my life that we’re talking about, so it’s me who makes the final decision.”

You look at Jungkook, your bottom lip quivering.

“I...accept.”

Not only your father, but everyone is shocked. It’s a tough decision, but in order to prevent bloodshed, you have to make that difficult choice. It’s against your desires, but you’re not worth the entire village.

Finding this to be an easy victory, especially seeing the advantage he was in, Jungkook picks up his sword from the ground and walks off. “Very well, we will leave tomorrow at dawn. Bring everything valuable to you.”

Your father grabs you by your arms, shaking you. His eyes well up, fighting back the tears upon the devastating realization that not only did he lose his wife, but will lose his daughter too.

“(Y/N), do you understand what you’re saying?! You’ve never gone off this island before!”

You gently brush your father’s hands off, pulling a soft but forced smile. “Dad, it’s okay. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. If it means protecting the villagers, then it’s my responsibility as your daughter to fulfill that duty. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see Freesia Island.”

“But...but not in this circumstance!” He falls to his knees, too ashamed to look up. “I’m sorry...I failed. As king, and as a father.”

You hug him for comfort. “You didn’t fail at anything. You did your best, and I’m glad that you did.”

But underneath these gentle words, you were nervous. Your heart is racing, regret weighing down on you as you secretly beg for a miracle to stop you from leaving. You wanted to leave the island and venture out into the world one day, but with the hopes of returning to your home. Being married to Jungkook could possibly mean that you’ll never see this place ever again, and it gives you a heartache.

While you and your father hug, Jungkook watches from afar. He stares for quite some time, though, no one can decipher what his thoughts are. In the midst of this, the captain of the crew approaches him.

“Your Majesty, is it really alright for you to marry her? You have an array of bachelorettes coming from more powerful kingdoms in line for you. Are you sure you want to marry her just for fruits?”

He traces his eyes to the captain, throwing dagger eyes at him. Goosebumps form on his skin with Jungkook’s looks that could kill.

“It’s not my late father’s choice to pick whoever I marry. Now hurry and prepare the ship for tomorrow.”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty.”

———

Later that evening, Jungkook and his men spend the night on their ship. Meanwhile, you’re sitting on your futon as your maids are helping with sorting out your belongings. Many of them are crying. You’re supposed to be preparing for your departure, but you’re occupied with cheering them up.

“(Y/N), you’re too young. We should’ve done something to prevent this.” One maid cries.

“We’re so sorry we couldn’t do anything.”

“I-it’s okay, really! You all worry about me too much. I’m not a child anymore.”

No matter what you tell them, they won’t listen. You understand that they’re indescribably worried for you, but there’s nothing you can do to change your fate. You wish you can tell them that, but your words are drowned out by their sorrowful cries.

Your father knocks on the door. “Can I come in?”

“Ah, sure.”

“Pardon the intrusion, but I would like to speak to my daughter privately.”

The women wipe their tears, scurrying out the room. Once they all left, your father enters, sitting on the hard wooden ground next to you. His eyes are red and swollen, presumably from crying. Though you try not to show it, it breaks your heart to see your father this emotionally wrecked.

“What is it, Dad?”

“I thought long and hard about the different outcomes that could’ve happened earlier today. There were so many alternatives that could’ve occurred, but no matter the outcomes, I feel like the one you’ve chosen for us was for the best. We are a peaceful colony who strive to find a solution with no bloodshed, and I failed to represent who we are.”

“No, don’t speak of yourself that way! I didn’t do anything special either. Dad, I...I was a coward. I had to fight with myself to finally step in when I could’ve done it with no hesitation.”

“No, you did well, and you are a brave woman, just like your mother. Nobody is born with bravery.”

You choke on your tears, swallowing the urge to let it go. You saw yourself as a failure, just as your father did in himself.

“But...since this is for the better, this is the least that I can do.”

He takes out a necklace, and at the center of it is a black pearl. He puts it on around your neck, brushing your hair behind your ear, doting on his daughter who has become a mature woman.

“This used to belong to your mother. We intended on giving it to you once you got married...at least not like this. It’s an important necklace, passed down through generations. It works as a good luck charm, your past ancestors will watch over you during your journey into the new world.”

“Dad I...Thank you.”

“Promise me that you won’t put yourself in danger and that one day you’ll return.”

You don’t know for sure if you’re going to come back, but your father needs a confirmation, otherwise, he won’t be able to live with himself knowing that he gave his only child to danger. He needs comfort in your words, even if they weren’t authentic.

“I promise.”

He pulls you in for one last hug, unable to hold back the tears. He cries on your shoulder as you pat him on the back. You reassured him that you’ll be fine, despite not knowing what the future holds. While he sobs uncontrollably, you listen to the sound of crickets and night-birds humming, might possibly being the last time you’ll hear this.

———

Before dawn, you trek to the top of the hill with a lantern since it’s still dark, where your mother’s grave stands. With only a spare amount of time left, you wanted to say goodbye to her last. Across from the tombstone, you sit in a fetal position after setting the lantern down. You thought about what to say, but your mind went all sorts of directions that you weren’t able to think of anything.

“So...uhm...I’m getting married...and I’m off to Freesia.”

You suck your lips in, thinking of something else to say.

“It’s kind of funny, Mom. I always dreamed of having a marriage as beautiful as yours and Dad’s. But I’m getting married to a scary man. This guy came to take our food and exchange it for profit. Horrible, right? What’s worse is that this marriage...is just an excuse to hold me hostage and make sure that Dad doesn’t do anything.”

You twindle with your thumbs, your bottom lip quivering. All night you tried not to cry because you dislike crying in front of people, but since you’re alone, you feel like releasing everything.

“I feel like I failed. I said yes so easily that I wish that I put more of a fight. I hate myself because I caved in without even trying. You should’ve seen Dad. He keeps saying that it’s his fault, but he did everything in his power to stop this. I know I should be the one to be crying, but everybody else did. I wanted to pretend that at least I don’t regret my choice...but…”

One tear escapes your eye, and you wipe it as quick as possible. However, that single tear opened the floodgates, and now you can’t stop crying.

“I’m scared...Mom. I don’t want to go. Please, help me.” You hide your face behind your knees, letting everything out. You cry so much that your hiccups hurt.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook had followed you closely behind. He’s leaning against a tree, listening to your cries. The way he watches you isn’t apathetically. He heard every word you said, your silent cries for help. Indeed, you showed yourself as a confident woman, but like everybody else, there’s a vulnerable side that you can’t hide.

———

Standing by the edge of the ship, you stare at Freesia Island with curious eyes. No longer in your clothes made for tropical weather, Jungkook has given you a thick, long-sleeved dress that makes you itch. At first, it was unbearable to be in tight clothing, but finding comfort in it after heading north to a colder region.

Hours later, the ship sets ashore by the deck, and your jaw drops by the difference from his kingdom to yours. It’s riddled with pastel-colored buildings, a land as flat as the wooden pier itself. There’s no tree taller than ten feet, and the skies are blanketed by gray clouds. The citizens of this land are wearing the same clothes as you—dull, worn-out woolen cloths.

Simply by the sight of Jungkook is enough to make the people nearby move away, not even darting an eye at him. Already there’s an immediate difference in the people’s mannerisms. It’s only his ship crew that helps drop the ropes and planks for them to get off. None of the men don’t bother with helping you off the ship, and it definitely was a struggle for you since you’ve never ridden anything as gigantic as this.

Sloppily sliding off the rope, the pain from the friction instinctively makes you let go prematurely. You lose balance, landing on your buttocks rather than your feet. The men laugh at your clumsiness, and you snarl in return.

A carriage arrives shortly thereafter. You’ve never seen a horse before, so the presence of what amazes you. Although you were frightened by the horses, you manage to drag yourself inside. Inside the carriage, you and Jungkook sit across from each other, no words exchanged. You’re speechless by the height of the buildings, peering your head out to see if you can spot the top. There were times when your head almost collided into other carriages, but you were quick to save yourself.

While riding through the capital, you’ve never seen so many people before. There are small market stands, selling food and items you’ve never seen before. The streets are so condensed, the volume of the environment being louder than the summer cicadas. Although more industrialized, the air here feels thin, as if the air is combined with smog coming from these unfamiliar metal devices coming from buildings and sidewalks.

But what you were looking forward to the most were the vast plains of endless flowers. Not once did you see it, even though it should be mid-Spring. Where is the blue sky? The green grass? The freesias? It’s building after building, blanketed by a gray sky.

———

Eventually, you two made it to the entrance of the castle, which is beyond your imagination. The castle alone has to be nearly the same size as Pitaya Island. The gate lowers to create a bridge for the carriage to pass through. The walls are as white as the doves that fly over the gate that surrounds the castle, spotless of dirt.

A red carpet has been rolled out for the pair, a continuous line of maids and butlers standing just outside the carpet’s golden line. They bow down once you two walk out of the carriage. For a second, you almost believed that they were dolls—each and every person looking so identical. Not a single wrinkle on their uniforms, and their clothes the exact same.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you and walks ahead of you. You try to catch up to him, but with the long gown, you accidentally step on the end, causing you to trip and fall face first. Your head spins, and your nose hurts from the impact. When you look up, no one has come forth to help you, not even Jungkook. He simply stares at you, as if telepathically sending you a message to hurry up. You crease your eyebrows and raise your lower lip to sulk. You stand back up and continue to follow him from behind.

———

Once you two made it into the main hall, you were separated from Jungkook, being swarmed by maids and is taken to your private room. They waste no time to prepare for the wedding ceremony. Your clothes are practically torn off, then you are pushed into a marble tub of warm water. One of them tries to take off your pearl necklace, but you refuse to let her touch it. You’re washed, from head to toe, feeling violated as the maids rush to clean you of your dirt. Within seconds, the clear water turns gray from the dirt.

You’re put into your wedding dress that is one size too small. The maids have to force the back zipper up, and with the corset already suffocating you, you have no choice but to suck your belly in more. The maids put on this strange powder-like substance on your face, making your skin paler, your lips so red like a ripe mango and blue matted over your eyelids.

In this dressing room, you sit in front of the makeup stand, unable to recognize yourself in the mirror. You almost touch your face, but it’s immediately slapped by one of the oldest-looking maids.

“Don’t touch your face, Your Highness! It’ll mess the makeup.”

You rub your hand, already feeling the urge to scratch your itchy nose. Your face feels heavy after being caked with powder and paint. By the time you finished, the sun has already begun setting. The day went by so fast, but it still has yet to end, and it ends with your wedding.

“King Jungkook is almost done with his preparation. In a few minutes, we will begin the engagement ceremony.”

You nod, not even listening to half of what she said. You can’t believe that you’re in Freesia, but it doesn’t look like the stories you heard from your parents. It was an absolute disappointment to see a colorless town with soulless people walking the streets.

———

“Once the double doors open and music is on, you’ll walk down the aisle. Make sure that each step you take is light, don’t let anyone hear your steps. Don’t walk too fast to where your veil accidentally exposes your face—it’s only for the king to see. Letting anyone else see is bad luck. Do you understand?”

The elderly maid lectures you for the fourth time, and even still, you’re unclear with the instructions. This is all new to you, confused with why everything has to be precise for one event. To avoid getting yelled at again, you nod your head, letting her know that you understand.

“Good. It’s almost time. Be prepared.” She stands by the side.

You stand in front of the double doors that lead to the throne room. The cue of the music starts playing, and you catch your breath. The doors crack open, and you’re met with a long aisle leading to the end, where two thrones are erected. You take in a deep breath, exhaling before entering the room.

Similar to the front of the castle, the room is filled with servants, their heads hanging low. By the end of the room is Jungkook in a blue shirt and white slacks. Next to him is a priest. Just like what the old maid said, you take light steps, and this time, you make sure that you don’t step on your own dress.

You successfully make it to the other side, where you stand in front of Jungkook. He truly is a handsome fellow up close, no matter how cold his eyes seem. Having no clue what to do since the maid didn’t tell you anything else, you stand there. The priest opens the book, reading a passage aloud. Curious, you lean over to see what he’s reading, but you can’t even understand what it says.

Once the reciting is complete, Jungkook leans over, making you jolt. You take a step back, but remembering that this is the part where he lifts the veil from your face, you freeze. He takes the ring from the stand, putting it on your ring finger. You assume that you have to do the same.

With that finished, he leans over, closing his eyes and tilting his head. Your lips meet, and your eyes see nothing but his face.

“Congratulations, you two are hereby pronounced as Freesia’s new king and queen.” The priest announces.

There are little applauds, but no cheers. You push him away, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. You look disgusted with the insincere kiss, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind.

It’s been only a day since you been on Freesia, and it’s nothing like you thought it would be. Every second spent here, it makes you miss your home even more.

And thus, begins a new chapter in your life, with a man who forced you into an unwanted marriage.

———

In your dressing room, you change out of your dress behind a wall divider. It was unbearable being in it for hours, and you can finally breathe once you took it off. One of the maids hands you a nightgown, making you dread having to wear yet another agonizing dress.

With the thick layer of makeup wiped off and your hair loose from the hair clips’ restraints, you’re ready to drop to the ground and sleep. Today was so busy that you never had the chance to relax. Now that everything is done and over with, the exhaustion is finally setting in.

“Your Highness, please follow me to your bedroom.” A maid speaks up.

“Okay.”

You walk closely behind her, looking back and seeing the rest of the maids folding the gown that you had just taken off and dusting the corners of the room.

“Uhm...might I ask...but where will I be sleeping?” You ask.

“You will be sleeping in Jungkook’s bedroom.”

You nearly stumble over your own two feet. “E-excuse me?”

“I apologize, was I not clear?”

“N-no, his room...you say...Will there be a separate bed for me?”

“No need to be timid, Your Highness. You two are newly weds, after all.”

It isn’t that you’re shy, but you barely know Jungkook. Everyone knows how awkward it is sleeping in the same bed with a complete stranger. Despite the bond as husband and wife, there is no real relationship underneath those titles.

“Is it possible for me to have my own room…?”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but it is not in my power to break traditions. If you like, then you can discuss this matter with the king.”

You knew she wasn’t going to agree with it, but it didn’t hurt to try.

“Do not worry. From what I’ve seen, King Jungkook isn’t in his private room most of the time. He’s usually busy with sword practice or locked up in his office. In fact, he may be practicing right now.”

You sigh in relief. Although, you’re amazed by the amount of strength he has. He just returned home, but he’s quick to going back to work. It makes you feel awful that you’re tired even though you haven’t done anything too physical.

———

Your jaw drops at the beauty of the room. The walls are painted with articulate designs of flowers and stems stretched in all four corners. There’s a couch in the corner with a coffee table. Against the wall is the king-sized bed, more pillows can you can count and a red blanket tucked neatly into the mattress. Next to it is a nightstand.

There isn’t much in the room, which is why it looks big. There’s also a private restroom just off the side, and a closet that’s big enough to become a room itself. The candles have been lit for the night, and it seems like they’ve been on for quite a while since so much of the wax has melted.

“If there’s anything you need, then just let us know as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

“Well then, goodnight, Your Highness.”

She closes the door behind you. The first thing you do is touch everything. Every piece of furniture is stitched to perfection. The material is silky, so smooth that it feels satisfying stroking it. You check the closet next, and it’s filled with all of Jungkook’s clothes. He has so many that you don’t think your clothes will fit in. You walk out to the balcony with a candlelight in hand. You can see the garden from here, spreading through the back part. That’s where you’ll be planting the fruits soon.

From the corner of your eye, there’s a separate building detached from the castle. When you squint your eyes, you see Jungkook swinging a wooden sword. He’s hitting a scarecrow multiple times, aiming at the pressure points. The maid wasn’t exaggerating when she said that he would be practicing right now. It’s so late, so you don’t see the reason for training.

You watch him for a few more seconds before yawning and calling it a night. Pressing your palm on the mattress, you wonder if it’s alright for you to take space on Jungkook’s bed. Under your breath, you apologize to Jungkook and slide into bed. You stare at the empty side, imagining what it’s like to sleep next to him. But picturing the intimacy makes you blush, so you turn around and try to sleep the thought away. There’s no chance that you’ll ever let that monstrous man lay a finger on you.

You let out a light sigh, holding onto the necklace and praying that the night will go well for you. Before closing your eyes, you think about your mother.

———

“M-Mom? What are you doing?”

You’re back home again, but in child form. In front of your is your mother, her eyes red from sobbing as she pushes you into a small hole in the wall. Although you want to look around, your small body won’t let you. All you do is stare at your mother.

“Don’t worry about me. Stay hidden here and don’t let the bad men see or hear you, got it?”

In the background, black smoke pollutes the red sky. The smell of fire is overpowering. The screams of the villagers, hearing their voices be cut off followed by the sound of gunshots, deafens your ears.

Your mother gets up, but before she can run off, you grab her wrist, crying uncontrollably. “Mom! Don’t leave me, I’m scared…”

She stares at her only daughter, begging her not to leave, eyebrows raised as if not knowing how to soothe you. She gets on one knee, wrapping her arms, burying your face into her shoulder.

“I’m not leaving you, and I never will,” she kisses you on the forehead. “Even if you can’t see me, I’m there for you because I’m your mother.”

There was something off-putting about your mother’s final words, like she knew her fate was inevitable. She wasn’t going to be there to see you grow up, so she found the right words to have you stop crying, almost like an enchanting spell.

You swallow that lump in your throat, nodding your head before letting go of your mother. She smiles in relief, brushing your hair one last time. She steps back, her grin not once leaving her face.

Just then, a muscular man bursts through the door, startling you and your mother. Your mother freezes, face-to-face with one of the pirates who have raided the island. A malicious smile forms on his face, marching right for her. For a millisecond, you and your mother make eye contact, but you knew what her expression said:

‘Don’t make a single noise.’

You cover your mouth, stopping your cries from seeping from between your fingers. But no matter how tight you squeeze your mouth shut, your heart won’t stop pounding. You turn your attention to the tattoo of a black skull on the man’s bicep, glaring back at you with hollow eyes, proceeded by your mother’s screams.

———

You open your eyes, jolting your entire body. You shoot up your upper body, discovering that you’re covered in cold sweat. Your pounding heart is so loud that it almost sounds like it’s echoing. The tips of your fingers tremble.

When you look around to see that you’re in Jungkook’s bedroom, you sigh in relief. You haven’t had a nightmare like that in years, so it’s not a surprise that you’re shaken.

“A nightmare?” A familiar voice asks.

Standing by the bedside is Jungkook, taking off his leather gloves, not batting an eye at you. He was so quiet that you didn’t sense his presence whatsoever. It’s humiliating that he has to see you in this state, but you can’t undo what he’s already seen.

You shake your head. “No...it’s difficult adapting to this place.”

“It’s not hot enough for you to be sweating that much though.” He states as he points at your pillow.

With the candlelight illuminating by the nightstand, a dark shade is embedded into your pillow. You pat it down, your palm interacting with the sweat. You open your mouth to provide a counter argument, but you can’t think of anything from the top of your head.

“Well, since you’re awake, allow me to provide you with a bit of house rules. From here on out, you’ll be in charge of instructing the farmers on how to properly grow the dragon fruits. You will need to learn the ins and outs of this land, so the head maid will be responsible for scheduling etiquette lessons, academics, and so on.”

While you’ve already been made aware of the farming aspect, you weren’t expecting to be tutored. You want to retaliate because you never agreed to the later half of the deal, but Jungkook beats you to it and responds first.

“And don’t try to do anything sneaky. You don’t want to do anything that’ll cost the life of your people.”

A chill runs down your spin. The rules and threat don’t help with your anxiety either, putting more pressure onto your shoulders that you need to abide by the law he creates.

Once Jungkook finishes switching out from his muddy boots to indoor slippers, he strides to the doorway. You were about to call out after him, but you stopped yourself. This is the third time Jungkook has caught you by the tongue, and it’s annoying you.

You curl into a fetal position, dropping your head onto your knees. The new life that you’ll be leading...was it the right choice to leave? You’re beginning to think like your father—could there have been a better outcome if you didn’t prematurely agreed to the engagement?

You mess with your hair, combing your fingers through it as you exhale heavily. To avoid the stress taking ahold of you, you hold onto the necklace, convincing yourself that there was no other way. You can’t wish for this to go away, you have to face it head on. This is just the beginning.

———

SUMMER

“Your Highness, where should the seeds be placed?” An old man approaches with a sack.

“They go into the shed along with the rest of the farm equipment.”

He runs off as quickly as he ran here. In the garden, you’re leaning over as you check the current state of the plants. On the first day of summer, everyone is sweating buckets worth, but this sort of weather is like winter in your homeland, so it’s natural.

It’s been months since you left, and now you live almost comfortably. You’ve been put in charge of raising the tropical plants, keeping a record of the process and sending it to Jungkook by the end of each day. Each day follows a specific pattern, where one day, you’ll be learning proper etiquette as a part of royalty, and other days you’ll be working closely with the servants.

You find it easier to get along with the servants compared to your tutors. They have zero interest in your well-being. It almost feels as if they’re looking down on you because you came from a small island. With the servants, it took awhile for them to warm up to you, but after that’s been done, there’s no issue talking to them.

“Your Highness, shouldn’t you be resting by now? You’ve been here since the break of dawn.” The elderly man asks as soon as he set the sack down.

You shake your head. “I’m fine. I prefer staying outside anyway. It feels a little suffocating in there.”

“But what about your language tutor? Wouldn’t she get upset?”

“I don’t have an issue with verbal communication, and this kingdom’s writing system is confusing that I don’t want to think about it. It doesn’t hurt missing one or two sessions.”

“King Jungkook will get upset if he finds out that you’re skipping lessons!”

“It’s alright,” you say as you pinch the leaves. “It isn’t like he cares.”

Despite the marriage, you and Jungkook treat each other like strangers. You two don’t even share the same bedroom. You’re careful not to show the grudge you hold for him, but Jungkook isn’t a fool; he knows you detest him. However, it was never his intention to be affectionate, you’re here as the connection between him and your father.

“Has he been treating you thoughtfully?”

“More or less. I feel more like a servant than his wife. It’s odd just thinking about how I’m queen…”

The old man laughs. “Even though you came from a royal background?”

“Well, my tradition is different from here. There’s no castle, no machines, no solid hierarchy.”

“It’s pleasant to hear that you came from a humble background. It’s very similar to King Jungkook’s.”

Your ears perk once you hear that. “Excuse me? Can you tell me more? What do you mean by that?”

Although you keep a large gap between you and him, you still are curious about Jungkook. He’s a mysterious person for sure, and you’d like to know more about him.

He looks around to make sure that no one else can hear. “Our former king, King Kim, was a kind man, putting his people before himself. It wasn’t until he was dethroned and slaughtered by King Jeon King Jungkook’s father. He was ruthless, I tell you. He prioritized military power and monetary gain more than anything. Each concubine he married was for the purpose of gaining something from the other lands, eventually marrying five wives.”

It sounds awfully similar to your situation, which isn’t surprising.

“However, his sixth wife was the most unusual, King Jungkook’s mother.”

His mother? You’ve heard about his father previously, but you have yet to learn about his mother. You don’t know if he has a close relationship with his mother. In fact, you don’t even know if she’s alive. If the former king had six wives, where are they?

“How so?”

“What’s going on here?”

From behind, Jungkook had been standing there all this time. The old man looks frightened, nearly falling over.

“Y-Your Majesty. W-we were just checking this section.”

But Jungkook doesn’t seem to believe that. The old man is sweating blocks.

“He was just telling me about the summer heat.”

“Hm, okay,” He still isn’t convinced but doesn’t push any further. “(Y/N), let me speak to you privately.”

You follow him from behind, walking away from the farm. You look back at the old man, hoping that Jungkook won’t do anything.

———

Inside the castle corridors, you’re unsure where he’s going. Every time he walks by a servant, they bow their heads and greet him.

“How have the plants been growing? There’s something off about them.”

“The growth process is a little slow. Because the weather is colder here, it’s going to take longer.”

“How long?”

“I’m not sure...maybe a year until we see something grow.”

“...Very well. It seems like we will have to keep relying on shipments from your island then.”

His words trigger your homesickness. You wonder how your father is doing, hopefully not worried sick for you.

“Also…” he starts. “I’d prefer it if you kept to your own business. My past is not your entertainment.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure how he came to that conclusion. “I didn’t ask for my amusement. I was genuinely curious.”

“Why learn about someone you hate? To use it against me?”

“Where is this coming from? Why are you accusing me of such things?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately. “If I hear one more question about my mother, then don’t expect me to give you a second chance.”

You can’t believe that he’s threatening you because of your curiosity. You dislike how he can do whatever he wants with you, but opening your mouth is forbidden.

“What’s wrong with me asking about your mother?” You ask with attitude.

He stops walking, that being the last straw. He turns around, and you cover your mouth, realizing that you made a mistake. He stands over you, his dead eyes staring straight into your soul. You gulp, feeling intimidated as he stands inches before you.

“Then tell me how your mother died.”

You never once mentioned about your mother around him, so how does he know?

“Wh-what? How did you…”

“That day when I took over your island, I followed you to your mother’s grave. I heard everything—you crying over her dead body like a helpless child, begging her for help.”

The things that he’s saying...you know that he’s saying only to push you on edge, but you can’t help it. The way he’s mocking your most vulnerable moment, speaking disrespectfully about your mother, it’s infuriating you.

“You’re an imbecile, thinking that a dead person can help you. They’re nothing but bones. There’s no such thing as spirits, and only a dimwit believes that. Your mother died and left you.”

You clench your fists, looking down at your chest, where your mother’s pearl necklace rests.

“Do you now understand why you shouldn’t ask—”

You headbutt him in the chin. He was completely off-guard by that that he nearly fell backwards.

This catches the attention of all the servants in the hall. The color drains out of their eyes when they saw you hit the king himself. He wraps his hand around his injured chin as it pulsates.

“You little…!”

Aware of what your near future has to hold, the servants flee to avoid the consequences. Jungkook was about to explode, but once he sees your face, his anger subsides. Your eyes are watery, presumably because your feelings have been hurt and the pain after hitting him with your head. 

“I’m sorry I asked.”

You storm off, and this sets off even more panic with the servants. But you don’t care. You wanted to get that out of your system, and it felt good. After everything he’s done to you, at least he deserved a headbutt.

———

In another section of the castle finally alone, you’re facing the wall, wiping your eyes. You mumble to yourself, ‘don’t cry, don’t cry.’ You’re embarrassed that you almost let yourself go in front of him, but you weren’t expecting him to spill such crude words. Now you’re stuck in a dilemma where you might be punished for your actions.

Is this really going to be your life? Stuck in a castle with a man who doesn’t love you? All you can think about is going back home, seeing your father again, sleeping in your favorite futon, and talking to your mother, even if she’s dead.

“That was definitely a sight worth seeing!”

You hear an unexpected voice from behind. You spin your body, seeing a man grinning from ear to ear. You don’t recognize him, so you’re on guard when he takes a step closer to you.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” as a friendly welcome, he extends his hand out for a handshake. “My name is Taehyung, and I’m a new servant.”

Raising an eyebrow, you decide to trust him, giving him your hand. He gives it a good, rough shake before letting your hand go.

“Were you crying just now?”

“Oh, no, I wasn’t.” You sniff.

“Hm, anyways, I saw what you did earlier, and that definitely took a huge leap of courage. Never in my life have I ever seen anyone do that.” Taehyung applauds.

Still on high alert, you don’t react. Sensing the vibe, he stops.

“He’s a quiet man, but one wrong move and his words can become as sharp as a blade. Now, I wasn’t too sure what the conversation was about, but I’m sure he was trying to press your buttons.”

You don’t respond, so he takes this as a yes. Seeing as you’re silent, he assumes you don’t trust him. He leans down until he’s eye level with you. There’s something in his eyes that you haven’t seen in awhile, and it’s sympathy.

 “Don’t be afraid. I’m on your side. If you want, you can tell me what’s been on your chest. I promise that I won’t tell Jungkook.”

His words are comforting to hear, it’s something that you needed. When you loosen the stiffness in your shoulders, he smiles, relieved that you trust him.

Some time has gone by, and you open up about everything. You weren’t expecting yourself to vent so much, especially since you just barely met him. It just shows that you really needed someone to talk to—someone who’s worried about their safety. Taehyung was quiet the majority of the time, nodding his head. It felt like he was actually invested in what you had to say.

“It must be hard, being in a foreign land, learning a new culture and meet strangers all by yourself.”

“...It is. I’ve always wanted to travel, but not like this.”

“Believe me when I say this, Your Highness, but I know exactly what you mean. I also was alone for most of my life, and it’s scary.”

“Where are you from?”

“Here, but I was orphaned at a very young age. It’s a miracle that I’m even alive.”

“I’m...sorry about that.”

“No worries!” he takes a step back, returning to his bubbly personality. “I know we just met, but what would you say if I told you that I can help you back home?”

Your eyes widen, at a loss of words. Did he really say what you thought you heard? “Really?! But...why?”

He nods. “No person should be restrained to another without consent, and I’m willing to get you out of it. Your father is the only family you have left, right? You should go back to him when you still have the chance.”

You can’t believe it. Taehyung is a savior. However...your hope sinks when you forgot another important factor.

“But...he has my father in his hands. If I leave, he knows where to look, and without a doubt, he’ll definitely kill everybody.”

“I might know a way to get around that. It won’t be easy, and it’ll take time, but if you want my help, then I need you to do something for me.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to find Jungkook’s weak spot.”

A weakness? “What does it have to do with the plan?”

“Think about it: he’s the one who’s pulling the strings. Even if you try to tug on it, his eyes are on you, so you can’t escape. If we use his weakness to distract him, then I can help snip the strings. You have an advantage because you’re his wife—the only person closest to him. I may not look like it, but I have a lot of connections, and I can get someone to prepare a ship for your return.”

“Are...you really willing to go that far for me? I-I haven’t done anything to deserve this.”

While you’re grateful for this opportunity, it feels off. The benefits outweigh the workload. Can the plan really work out the way he explains it to be?

“I’m doing it also for myself. One day, I’ll tell you why. The plan might sound simple, but it’s more complicated. But don’t worry about it, I’ll do the hard part. I just need you to gain Jungkook’s trust.”

“...Okay. I’ll do it,” you lean over, hugging him to express how thankful you are, but it catches him off-guard. “Thank you so much. I’ll never forget it.”

He pulls himself back, clearing his throat. “It hasn’t started, so don’t thank me yet.”

He has given you this ray of hope that nobody else here has done. Each day, your mental state deteriorated because nobody was willing to take the chance to listen to you. If you hadn’t met Taehyung, then you would’ve continued to spiral down into insanity. You make sure that Taehyung’s offer will not be taken for granted.

———

The head maid’s hand slaps you so hard that your head turned in the same direction as her hand. “You simple-minded bitch!”

You fight the urge to hit her back, clenching your fists.

“How dare you humiliate the king in front of everybody?! He has been nothing but kind toward you! He gave you a roof to sleep under, food, and even education for that barbaric mind of yours!” She nags as she aggressively pokes your head.

Despite being the queen, you’re treated no differently from a maid. There is no respect for you from the head maid, only when Jungkook is around. She has already made it clear that she despises you since the beginning.

“If you had been some ordinary woman, then I’d have your hair shaved off. You don’t deserve the opportunity to even apologize!” She turns away, sneering at you. “I still cannot believe that he chose to marry you when he had more proper women lined up.”

You didn’t make the decision, but the way she says it makes it sound like it was. You rub your cheek after she leaves. It’s unfair that Jungkook doesn’t get backlash for what he does, but you do. If you were of another background, then the maid wouldn’t have treated you this way.

You stomp your feet to the balcony, pushing the doors open. The urge to scream is pulled back when you’re reminded that as a woman, you could get in trouble for using your chest voice. Instead, you slam your fist against the concrete rail, cursing to your heart’s content. The maid did not see what had unfolded between you and him, but even if she did, she would still side with Jungkook.

You raise your head up, staring at the distant building where Jungkook has sword practice. Even under this hot weather, he’s still practicing. For the months that you’ve been living here, he’s never missed a day. He doesn’t even sleep in the same room as you. You can’t quite understand him—why is he so intent with work?

You recall what Taehyung said about potentially helping you return to your island. With him being closed-off with everyone, including you, how can you possibly get close to him? But you can’t have a defeatist attitude just yet when you haven’t started. Perhaps you’re overthinking it and there is a chance that you can pass through his barriers; you just have to figure out how.

———

You exhaling to calm your nerves. In your hands is a tray of iced tea. You’re a few feet away from Jungkook, in the gardens hiding behind a rose bush sculpted into the shape of a young angel. This is the first time you’ll be approaching him non-business related, so you pray that your act of kindness doesn’t come off as suspicious. You convince yourself not to worry too much, counting backward before going.

You pull the most welcoming smile that you can achieve, walking stiffly to Jungkook. As you pull in closer, he notices you and stops. He brushes his sweaty hair back, breathing heavily as he stares at you. The longer he stares at you, the more conscious you are of your appearance. How do you look like when you’re walking? Is your posture relaxed? How does a normal walk look like again? All the little things attacking you at once.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” you pause momentarily to rehearse your lines. “It sure is hot today, isn’t it? I see you practice here often, so I thought it’d be best for you to take a break and have a cup of cold tea.”

You look for anything to use as a table, but seeing as there’s nothing of use, you keep ahold of the tray.

Already, he raises an eyebrow. “I know. I see you on the balcony, watching me.”

He points at the balcony connected to the bedroom, and you look behind. You never thought about how obvious it is when you stand there, spying on him like a stalker. It makes you flustered, almost forgetting what to say next.

“Oh, it’s just fascinating watching you practice. You strike this dummy like it’s a real person!” You try to sound enthusiastic, but it’s too forced that he can see through you.

“What do you want?”

“N-nothing! I just…” you look down at the ground. “...wanted to apologize for my rash behavior the other day. It was uncalled for me to hit you like that. I-I know a cup of tea isn’t going to redo the past, but I want to show that I thought a lot about it and would like to make up for that.”

While a part of you does feel apologetic for what you did, but the childish side says that he deserved it. Jungkook still doesn’t look convinced with your offer but gives in to it anyways. He takes the cup and sips it before returning it to you. He resumes training, acting as if you never came by.

You’re left there standing without another word. Is that really it? What else are you supposed to do? You were expecting more persuasion would come into play. You were going to take this as a perfect opportunity to be pushier, but you’re stumped.

“Okay well...train hard.”

You spin around, pacing back to the garden with your head hanging low. Your face is flushed, unable to believe that you were at a loss of words. You prepared a whole conversation in case he refused, but he’s wittier than you thought. He knows that by retaliating, it’ll give you a reason to stay and bother him. He was one step ahead of you.

But you can’t give up now. This is just the first attempt. You raise your head up with new determination.

———

Every day since then, you would bring cold drinks for Jungkook during his training session. You would ask the servants to teach you how to make tea, then you would bring it out to him. You did this so often that the servants thought that it was becoming a chore for you, so they offered to do it in your stead, but you turned it down every time. You wanted—needed—to be the one to get close to him, even if the atmosphere felt uncomfortably silent.

“Why do you practice every day?” You ask one day.

While sitting down on the ground, Jungkook stares at you. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t answer you. You return the gaze back at him, using your hand as a shade above your eyes to protect them from the glaring sun. He looks away, turning his attention back at the beatdown scarecrow.

“It’s important not to slack off.”

“But don’t you think you’re practicing too much? I see you with a wooden sword more than anything else.”

The end of his eyebrow raises up, not agreeing with your statement. “It’s easy for you to say that.”

He returns to what he was doing before, trying to ignore you as usual. However, you aren’t going to let him off that easily this time.

“You know, I may not look like it, but I know how to use a sword too.”

“Yes, I’m aware. That was how we met.”

You forgot about that. That wasn’t the best introduction, but there’s no way you can redo that now. You stand up, stretching your arms and legs. He stands back, wondering what you’re about to do.

You grab an extra wooden sword and get into battle position. You raise the sword over your head, swinging it down on the scarecrow’s head. The head bobs up and down from the impact, dust flying everywhere. You look at Jungkook, waiting for his praise.

“Holding the sword above your head takes too much strength and time. By doing that, you leave your entire body vulnerable, and you would’ve gotten hit by then. You don’t want to make the first hit the most powerful one either. Conserve your strength for the rest of the fight.”

Your pride was stomped in an instant, but then again, there was no point for you to show off amateur skills to an expert.

“Who taught you how to use a sword?”

You scratch your cheek, having realized that you boasted about yourself a bit too much. “No one…”

“Not even your father?”

“No...my dad didn’t want me to get near a blade, so I kinda learned by watching him.”

“Hm, impressive. Despite everything else, you have the strength equivalent to that of a man, and self-taught too, not too bad.”

You knew that you were most likely stronger than an average woman because you were the only person in your entire village who could perform physical labor. Everybody was either too old or young.

“Perhaps you’re not some ordinary, dainty woman, but you still have a long way before you call yourself a swordswoman.”

You don’t know if meant that as a compliment. Either way, it lifted your spirits. You try to hide your smile, but it’s impossible. Jungkook catches you grinning, not sure why you’re happy, but decides not to say anything. In fact, that’s the first time he’s seen you smile since you got here and this is the longest conversation he’s had with you.

Upon first impression, it didn’t seem like you liked him, which isn’t surprising considering what he did. But you suddenly started showing up, giving him something to drink every day under the scorching weather, trying to talk to him. It’s highly suspicious, especially since you get nothing out of talking to him. However, it isn’t something he particularly hates.

“You’re...” He trails off. “...welcome to practice here. And you don’t have to use tea as an excuse.”

Your jaw drops, your eyes so wide that you can see the whole world. He doesn’t know why you’re so speechless by his offer, but you quickly go back to smiling again.

“Thank you, Your Majesty!”

If anything, he’s more shocked. He can’t understand why he feels...comfortable talking to you. You two should see each other as enemies, but seeing you in another light, he wasn’t thinking when he offered this place to you. If anything, it would be a bad move on his end. If you learned how to use a weapon, then you can kill him. But this brief conversation felt like the conflict between you and him doesn’t exist. He can’t remember the last time he spoke to someone without second-guessing, or if he ever did at all.

———

And just as he said, you’ve been practicing alongside Jungkook. You still bring him tea, but now you found another reason to stop by. Although he doesn’t say much, he does leave advice here and there to better your swordsmanship. Whenever it isn’t about training, he would ask about how the dragonfruits are growing. Despite that gap between you and him still apparent, the gap definitely closened.

However, today is unlike any day. When you head to the training area, Jungkook is nowhere to be seen. He’s usually here around this time of day. You set the tea set down, finding a gardener nearby.

“Excuse me, do you know where King Jungkook is?”

“I heard that the shipment from Pitaya Island has arrived today, so he went to the port to check. He should be back shortly.”

“Thank you.”

You leave the gardener be, deciding to kill time by swinging the wooden sword. The head maid recommends that you use your extra time by studying, but just thinking about a book already stresses you out. You can already tell that academics aren’t your strongest, so you dread the thought of just thinking about it. At least for this, this gives you a reason to feel productive.

———

You thought that by practicing, hours would fly over your head, but it turned out to be the contrary. You keep looking back at the garden, hoping to see Jungkook. Every time you think about him, you try shaking him out. He is your enemy, you tell yourself, you’re not here to become allies. It makes you forget about him for a  few seconds, then you return to this vicious cycle of thinking about him again.

After an hour, you stopped, finding this repetition to get on your nerves. You kick the pebbles around, watching them roll away. With all your attention on the pebbles, you almost run into the scarecrow. You get into a stare-off with it, glaring at its dirty face. It has two ‘x’ for eyes, as there used to be buttons there. It’s been abused by Jungkook so much that cotton is falling out from the man-made body, and the clothes have lost their color. Despite being a victim, it still has a smile sewn onto it.

“What are you looking at?” You make an attempt to sound menacing, but only make a poor attempt at it. “Just because you hang out with Jungkook the most doesn’t mean that you’re special.”

You pause as if the scarecrow is actually speaking.

“What? I’m not jealous. Just to let you know, I hate him. That’s right, he’s my arch-nemesis, so that means that you’re my enemy too. I have every reason to show you no mercy.”

You’re quiet again, and then you pull yourself back as if you’ve been offended.

“No, I’m not thinking about him! Are you insane? ...Me? Worried?” You roll your eyes, scoffing. “Why would I worry about that selfish prick anyway? He doesn’t care if I die.”

You realize that you’re having an imaginary conversation with a scarecrow, but knowing that you talked to your mother’s tombstone for twelve years, this is nothing out of the ordinary.

“He just...wants me because it’ll benefit him. I refuse to believe that he has an ounce of care in him.” 

That’s right, you shouldn’t try to understand someone who doesn’t think about others. You should focus on getting back home. It would be a waste to have him in your thoughts.

“YOUR HIGHNESS!” The scratchy voice was so loud that it frightened you.

The head maid is marching right toward you, grabbing your arm once she got close enough. You thought that you had gotten into trouble again, but that expression on her face doesn’t look like she intends to yell at you today.

“Where on earth have you been?! I’ve been searching everywhere!”

“I-I was here this whole time. Why?”

“There was an attack!”

“What?!”

“A pirate had hijacked one of the ships with the food supply from your island and made an attempt to ambush King Jungkook.”

You thought you didn’t hear her right. When she said ‘your island,’ there was this immediate feeling of foreboding dragging your entire spirit down.

“Thankfully, they were no match for the king, so—”

“Where is King Jungkook?!”

Startled by your sudden question, she hesitates. “The king is in the main hall. I understand that you’re in a panic, we all were, but do not raise your voice—”

You run back inside, not caring if your shoes are covered in dirt. You’re not supposed to run in the castle, but you could care less. What you need to know now is if your father is okay.

———

In the main hall, the servants and soldiers surround Jungkook. You fight through the crowd to get into the center. Your heart pounds, your vision is blurry, and your hands tremble. You want to know what happened so you can get rid of this antsy feeling.

When the crowd finally notices you passing through, they immediately make way. They grow silent after seeing you, even Jungkook. Standing before him, you didn’t have to say anything for him to know what you want to ask.

“They’re safe. The pirates hijacked the ship after they picked up the new shipment.”

It felt like a million things have just been lifted. You don’t know how you would react if he didn’t have any good news to say.

Despite saving the capital from a terror attack, the people around Jungkook don’t cheer. They have the same, stoic expression that they’ve always had. Once Jungkook walks away from the main lobby and into the hall, the crowd disperses, returning to their everyday lives.

Perhaps there was more that you should’ve said to him, at most a thanks. After all, he did save the mainland, as it is a king’s duty to do so. Something in you is persuading you to move your feet and follow him, let him know that you’re thankful, even if he ignores you.

———

As Jungkook dives deeper into the maze of corridors, you follow closely behind. You’re embarrassed for behaving stealthily when you can simply confront him, but you want to stall and have enough time to rehearse what you want to say to him

 You don’t even know if it’s worth it to thank him, especially knowing how talented he is at ignoring you. You aren’t even sure why you’re so keen on talking to him. It might be because you’ve gotten comfortable enough to be around him that it becomes second nature to speak to him. Another reason might be because you were unconsciously worried about him, no matter how much you deny that. Regardless of the reason, you’re still here, hiding behind each statue, peeking your head out and waiting for the perfect opportunity to say something.

You come to a halt when Jungkook suddenly stops walking in the middle of the halls. Initially, you thought that he noticed you. But after a few seconds later, you see that that isn’t the case. Since he’s not moving, you thought that this would be the right time to reveal yourself and stop hiding. You step out from behind a sculpture of a man, waving your hand to grab his attention.

“Your Majesty, I—”

But before you can finish your sentence, Jungkook falls to his knees, coughing violently. You’re startled, not doing anything before processing that he’s fallen over. After it clicks that he’s not well, you force your legs to work. 

You kneel down, getting a better look at his condition. Jungkook is covering his mouth with his hand, coughing nonstop to the point where he’s wheezing. His other arm and wrapped around his stomach, and sweat is pouring out of his pores. His ears and nose are turning red.

You put your hands on his shoulders, and it seems as though he didn’t realize that you were here all along. Instinctively, he shoves your hands off, giving you an angry look. “Don’t touch me...”

After moving his hand away from his mouth, you see the blood rolling down his lip. The palm of his hand is covered in blood, fusing with the sweat. He struggles to stand up, only to fall back down. He’s so weak that he has to lean on the wall, trying to catch his breath.

Seeing him in this condition, it horrifies you. Just moments ago, he looked fine. He must’ve waited until there was absolutely no one to finally fall. With his arm still wrapped around his stomach, you notice that his shirt is slowly sucking up the blood. He must have received an injury to the stomach.

Disregarding his order, you lean over to him, putting his arm around your neck to help him up. He looks confused but too weak to remove his arm from you.

“What are you doing?”

“Why did you pretend like you were okay?!” You respond with a question.

Jungkook is silent, looking away. With your strength, you’re able to lift him up, though you struggle to get him to walk. After the first few steps, you were able to get into rhythm with his steps. The sweat from the tips of his hair is rubbed against your cheek, and your dress is soaking up the sweat like a sponge.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To your room.”

———

In the room, Jungkook’s personal doctor has just completed his checkup, returning the stethoscope back to the bag. His doctor has given him liquid medicine to soothe him. After all the commotion, he’s finally calmed down and asleep. You stayed for the entire duration, standing by the side and waiting for the results.

The doctor approaches you, sighing. “His Majesty is no longer in critical condition. It was quite a fright, however.”

“Can you explain what happened?”

“He was injured during battle, receiving a deep cut to his waist. There must’ve been poison on the blade, as he was showing symptoms.”

“What?!”

“I’m not certain what kind of poison yet, but it most likely might’ve been a plant-based poison.”

Your gaze turns to Jungkook, who’s sleeping soundly.

“It was sheer luck that you were barely able to get me in time before the poison spread to his entire body. He should be able to recover within a week as long as he takes the medicine on a daily basis. However, he will still feel soreness in his muscles, so I recommend that he doesn’t get out of bed,” The doctor gives you a transparent glass bottle. “Make sure that he takes this three times a day. Oh, and please keep an eye on him. He may be our king, but he’s still a child. He might feel uneasy being in bed and make sure that he doesn’t try to sneak out.”

He walks off, leaving you confused at first before turning around and calling him back. “Wait, excuse me—”

And with that, the doctor closes the door behind him. Your intention was to get him to his room and get help as soon as possible, not become his personal maid. Even though you are his wife by contract, you aren’t romantically attached to him to where you should take care of him.

But when you look at him, you can’t help but think that you’re simply being selfish. You know almost nothing about taking care of an ill person, so you were upset that the responsibility was dropped on your head suddenly. You can’t forget that he fought outsiders to protect his land and behaved as if he was fine afterwards.

Since he’s no longer in critical condition, you decide that it’s best to let him rest. You open the drawer of the nightstand to place the bottle inside. However, there’s something in there that catches your attention. It’s a black and white photo of a boy sitting on a woman’s lap. Both of their expressions look melancholic, showing no signs of glee whatsoever. They’re dressed in elegant clothing, not a single wrinkle on it,  and their hair is combed back with a gel-like substance.

The child on the woman’s lap has a starking resemblance to Jungkook. You look at Jungkoook, then look back at the photo. He looks similar to the woman in the photograph as well. After thinking about it for a while, you draw to the conclusion that this is Jungkook, and the woman is presumably his mother.

Jungkook turns in his bed and groans. Startled, you instinctively shove the photo into your pocket. You sigh in relief when he doesn’t wake up. You take the photo out, staring at it again.

———

“This woman?”

In the wine basement, you hand the photograph to Taehyung. He tilts his head, rotating the picture around to get a better look at it.

“This is Jungkook’s mother.”

Just as you thought.

“Where did you find this?” He asks while returning the picture back to you.

“I found it in his drawer. I was wondering if you know anything about her.”

You’re aware that Jungkook is not fond of people talking about his mother, but your curiosity outweighs the caution. You’re keen into knowing why he was so against you learning about her, and you want to know why there’s no sign of her either.

“I’m not surprised that he’s trying to keep it silent.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“His mother was a prostitute.”

“Prostitute? What’s that?”

Uncomfortable with figuring out how to properly explain the term, he averts his eyes. He leans over to your ear, whispering the description. Upon hearing the answer, you pull yourself back, dropping your jaw. You then cover your mouth with your hand.

“Everybody knows, but Jungkook forbids anyone to talk about it. It might be because he’s ashamed of his background, being raised by a street woman.”

You look at the picture again, focusing on his mother. You can’t imagine her living that sort of lifestyle, and then for Jungkook to grow up in that environment.

“I don’t know the full story, but the former king suddenly announced that he wedded another woman, his sixth one, in fact.”

“How is it possible that a king can marry another woman? What ever happened to swearing oath to one?”

“By law, the king is allowed to marry as many wives as he wishes. It’s a new rule after Jungkook’s father killed the king previous to him. Although, I can’t say for certain that not all concubines were treated equally.”

Taehyung puts his hands in his pockets, the mood darkening. There was a glimpse of fury underneath his eyes, but you might’ve imagined it.

“His father is a selfish prick, creating rules only to benefit him. His eyes saw nothing but lust. Either that or their kingdom had something the former king wanted, so an alliance through marriage was necessary for him to have a share.”

The latter half of Taehyung’s remark bothers you as if poking you on the side to remind you of your position. Without a doubt, you know that he didn’t marry you because he liked you, but what your island can contribute to him. The more you think about it, the more disdain you grow for him. But, you aren’t sure if the disdain is for Jungkook, or indirectly toward his father.

You know you’re looking at this with a biased point of view, but even if Taehyung described Jungkook’s mother in a sour way, you can’t bring yourself to look down on her. It might be because of what you used to have with your mother, but you don’t want to jump to conclusions and assume who his mother exactly is.

Seeing how deep in thought you are, Taehyung bends down until he’s eye level with you, patting you on the shoulder as he smiles. “Don’t worry about it. Soon enough, I’ll be able to send you back home. You’re doing a fine job.”

That’s right, you shouldn’t sympathize with anyone here but Taehyung. He’s the only one willing to help you, so there’s no need to feel sorry for Jungkook...right?

———

Jungkook’s health has been improving steadily, and he’s been staying in bed as of late. You were worried about the extra weight of giving him his daily dose of medicine, but it was you merely overthinking it. At most, you have to measure the right dosage then mix it into his soup. Once that’s complete, you go back to tending the dragon fruit garden and the dreadful private lessons.

Since he takes over the bed, you don’t sleep in the room anymore. Once the head maid is off your back, you sneak into your dressing room and sleep there. If she finds out that you’re not sleeping the ‘proper way’, then she would smack you without hesitation.

It’s been a few days since he’s been bedridden, and you can’t tell he’s beginning to get antsy staying in bed all day. The doctor insists that he doesn’t overwork himself as he’s still sore. However, Jungkook is a busy body, so resting is uncommon to him.

Today, in particular, you notice that he looks especially stressed. On his lap is a clipboard with sheets of paper stacked above it. He keeps scratching his head, his forehead wrinkled as he makes tiny grunts under his breath. You thought it’d be best to ignore it, but he’s not even trying to hide it.

“Are you okay…?”

“No, I’m not.” He responds frankly.

It would’ve been nicer if he didn’t say it in that tone. However, you try to brush it off. You keep telling yourself that this is for the sake of going back home.

“Is there any way I can help you with that?”

He glares at me as if astounded that you even bothered to ask that. “How will you be able to help me? You hardly know your numbers.”

You can feel your veins popping out. His snarky remarks are testing your patience, especially since you didn’t do anything this time to upset him.

“I might not be able to do it for you, but if you want someone to talk to, then I can be your listener.”

“How will that help me?”

“That way, you don’t have to carry the weight by yourself.”

He squints his eyes, not wanting to take your word for it. “This is a battle plan that the general and I created together. There has been an increase in pirate attacks, and we’re trying to figure out how to increase our defense.”

You take a look at the sheets, and it’s much more complicated than you thought. You barely understand the written language itself, and all the lines and circles drawn to each line makes you more confused. You weren’t expecting him to let you see it, or even tell you. In a way, it made you excited knowing that he’s trusting you bit by bit, even if you can’t understand anything.

“But...it isn’t easy. For every plan I create, I have to get them approved by my older brothers, and that isn’t easy. Every damn plan I propose to them, they reject it. And yet, they complain, and complain, and complain that I need to somehow improve my military.” He lets out an exasperated sigh.

He was right—you really don’t know how to solve this. You’ve never met any of his relatives to give suggestions. Being speechless, you put your index finger to your lips, thinking of anything to say. That’s when you remember what Taehyung said to you days ago.

“What is the flaw that they see?”

“I don’t even know. They won’t even tell me.”

Taehyung did mention that Jungkook is the youngest and isn’t treated well. Knowing his background and his mother, he might not have the respect he deserves from his older brothers.

“Maybe...your plan is fine? But they don’t want to acknowledge it?”

He raises an eyebrow. “And how would you know that it’s alright? You didn’t read it.”

You shrug your shoulders. “Just a guess. I mean, you’re a king for a reason. You were able to map out a way to my homeland without trouble, and then you took care of those pirates.”

Because Jungkook doesn’t know that you’ve been informed of his backstory, he looks at you with a questionable expression. A sweat drops, worried that he might’ve figured out that you stole the picture of his mother. You haven’t returned it yet, and it’s making you anxious.

“Whether I’m a king or not, my older brothers see me as incompetent,” he leans back. “No matter what I do, they don’t believe that I’m meant to become king.”

“Why is that so?”

“Well, for starters, I’m the youngest, and that already sets me at a disadvantage. Not only that, I—” Jungkook stops abruptly, losing his train of thought. “Never mind. There’s no point in diving deep into this topic.”

If only he knew what you knew, then he would know how sympathetic you feel for him. Selling your body for money may not be the most well-respected career path, but a mother is still a mother. What she did to support her and Jungkook prior to moving into the castle should not be forgotten.

Thinking about your mother, you may not remember her face anymore, but you don’t let the memories of her die out. She died when you were still very young, but that doesn’t excuse you to forget everything that she did in the short time that you’ve spent with her, and those are irreplaceable.

“You know...sometimes it’s nice to talk to somebody about your problems. It’s not whether or not they can solve it, but just for others to know the troubles that you’re going through. You’re not expecting much, only for them to lend an ear,” you clutch onto the pearl necklace, smiling faintly as you stare blankly into space. “You saw me talking to my mother’s tombstone, right? Talking about my day is heals my mind of all the stress that I go through daily.”

Thinking about your mother’s grave, picturing your father and the villagers, it truly makes you homesick. If only you can see the palm trees again, listen to the chirps of the colorful birds that fly across the sky, and the beauty of the ocean right under a bright, blue sky. But you swallow back your homesickness. Now is not the time to be reminiscing.

“My mother died a long time ago to protect me.”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows, completely surprised with your openness.

“When I was a child, there was an invasion by another group of pirates, stealing our crops and pillaging our village. While everything was perishing, my mother hid me, making sure that the bloodline doesn’t end with me. By the time the invaders got what they needed and left, most of the children my age was killed off. That’s why I’m the only person who’s around my age.”

It hurts going back to that time. It was hard for everybody, especially with your father. Not only did his people suffer a lot, but he also lost this beloved wife. He was broken for years, and he’s still healing from it to this day.

“Even though my mom died long ago, I still talk to her. I know she’s dead, but speaking to her like she’s listening to everything I’m saying, it’s so relieving. So...if you ever feel stressed, it’s always good to release it. It doesn’t have to be me, but your reflection or anything you’re comfortable with.”

With his lack of response, you aren’t sure if he agrees with you or not. It sounds silly, but it definitely has helped you when coping with difficult situations. You’re already choking on your tears, swallowing the lump in your throat. To avoid crying in front of him, you think of something else to talk about.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk about myself. You’re the one who’s going through a tough time.”

He looks away, staring intensely at the blanket. “No...I was unaware of that. If you like, you can leave now.”

You’re surprised he said it in a calm manner. It almost sounds as if he acknowledged what you said and is letting you leave out of courtesy. You clear your throat, patting the back of your dress as you walk off.

“Very well, just holler for me if there’s anything you need.”

He barely nods, and you look back one more time before leaving.

———

Despite that being the longest you’ve ever spoken to Jungkook, nothing spectacular happened after that. You were somewhat expecting a turn in your relationship, but it’s as steady as it’s always been.

Jungkook has gotten better to where he can walk around. However, he still can’t do the activities that he did before, so most of the time, he walks around the castle, looking around as if he were a tourist. You’ve been watching him from afar, spying on him to see what he does, but nothing out of the ordinary happens.

Today is the same routine with you having to serve him dinner. However, when you enter, Jungkook is nowhere to be seen. Mild panic sets in, and you start to worry about where he could have gone. You set down the tray, calling his name while searching the entire room.

You walk out of the room, looking all around the hallway for any trace of him. A servant walks by, and you grab her by the shoulder. She didn’t notice you at first, so it made her flinch.

“Your Highness! Is there anything you need?”

“Do you know where the king is?”

“Ah, yes. His Majesty went to the garden. I may be wrong, but he went to check on the shipments for the exotic fruits.”

You smile, letting her know that you’re thankful before rushing to the backyard.

———

Appearing before you is the small shack where the dragon fruit seeds and fruits are hidden. The door is slightly ajar, so you peek in there, leaning over to double-check that Jungkook is in there. Just as the servant claims, he’s crouching over, digging his hand into a sack of black dragon fruit seeds. Wrapped around his shoulders is a thin blanket.

He looks tranquil, feeling the sensation of hundreds of seeds tickling his hand. It’s moments like these that remind you that Jungkook is barely into adulthood, yet he has so many responsibilities on his shoulders. You can’t imagine what goes through his mind, knowing the countless things that he has to keep in check.

You made the mistake of misstepping, making a slight kick to the door. This alerts Jungkook, shooting his head up to make eye contact with you. You avert your eyes, biting your bottom lip as you look away in embarrassment.

“No need to hide. Come here.” He waves his hand, signaling for you to enter.

You timidly stride inside, somewhat taken aback that Jungkook would let you inside. You don’t know if he’s going to let you stand next to him. You crouch down, staring at the seeds, wondering what it is that’s so intriguing to him.

“I tried doing what you said,” Jungkook begins. “And it doesn’t work.”

“What doesn’t work?”

“Talking to inanimate objects. I feel like an insane person. I feel more comfortable talking to somebody.”

It’s not surprising that Jungkook thinks so. If anything, it’s astonishing that he even made an attempt. He scoops a handful of seeds, then to let it pour in between his fingers.

“Have the plants been growing well?”

“Yes, it’s been slow, but still growing.”

“...That’s nice. There was a myth that there’s a one out of a million chance that one of the dragon fruits will actually grow a dragon egg. Is that true?”

You raise an eyebrow, having never heard of that before. “Where did you hear that from?”

“I heard it from many people. Your island is famous through word, but no one has ever gone there to prove it.”

If you had a closer relationship with him, then you would tease him for believing a false myth like a child would. It makes you wonder if he actually went as far as to travel to your island just to see if that tale is true.

“I’m sorry about looking down on your mother.”

Your turn your head to him so fast that your neck almost snapped. For a second, you thought your ears were playing tricks on you. It’s baffling to comprehend that Jungkook has just apologized.

“It was very immature of me to speak about somebody who I’ve never met before, so I’m not asking for your forgiveness.”

What was it that made him have a change of mind so suddenly? Could it have actually been what you said? You aren’t sure, but what you are sure is that something within him changed. Someone whom you thought is as cold as stone is opening up.

“Also...thank you for taking care of me these past few days and...dealing with me despite my stubbornness.”

Upon hearing that, you notice Jungkook’s ears turning red, cheeks flushed with red as well.

“I’ve never eaten a dragon fruit before,” He quickly changes the topic. “Does it taste good?

Saving his pride, you decide not to make a comment about his apology. You even pretend that he never said it. “What do you mean, ‘does it taste good?’ It’s one of the best! Not only is the color eye-catching, but the taste is also jaw-dropping!”

Your vague description doesn’t convince Jungkook enough. He raises an eyebrow, acting as if he had just heard a child talking. You try thinking of other ways to express it, but your vocabulary doesn’t stretch that far. That’s when you have an idea.

“Do we have any of the fruits from the most recent shipment?”

He points to the corner of the room. You stand up, dashing to inspect the fruits piled on each other in a large wooden box. With the lack of proper care, it’s not a surprise when you see that the fruits have become a bit old. You dig through it, praying that you’d find one that’s not bruised nor old, and your prayers are heard when you manage to find one that’s still in good condition.

You grin, showing him the fruit as he slowly walks up to you. “Here we go. Try this one.”

He takes it from your hand, rotating it around, having no clue what to do with it. “How do I…?”

He looks up from the fruit, staring at you with eyes as big as a baby’s. You want to giggle, but it’s too rude to do. You take it from his hand, looking for a small knife, managing to find one sitting on a table. You steady the blade onto the center of the fruit, slicing it in half. You open it, revealing the white flesh from within.

You return it to him, this time, after assisting him in opening the fruit. “Tell me how it tastes.”

Still not knowing how to eat it but not wanting to rely on you a second time, Jungkook digs his fingers into the fruit, scooping a small handful. He takes a bite, and his eyes enlarge once it’s in his mouth. You knew immediately what his reaction is.

“Tastes good, right?”

Jungkook nods his head. “Do you want some?”

“No, it’s okay-”

Without getting the chance to finish your sentence, Jungkook puts it into your mouth. The taste of the fruit reminds you of your home, and a wave of homesickness overwhelms you again. You remember the first time you had a dragon fruit when you were a toddler—that sweetness overwhelming your mouth, the small crunches of the black seeds—eating it at the table with your parents and grandmother. The smile on your mother’s face , your father’s booming laughter, and your grandmother cutting the fruits into smaller cubes.

Where has the time gone?

It never really hit you how much you miss your home—how lonely you feel. Every day, you feel like an outsider here. Even though you’re Jungkook’s wife, you don’t feel treated like one, and when people are respectful, there’s an obvious gap. You want to go home. You want to see your family again, under the tropical sun and sitting under the palm trees’ shades. You don’t want to be here anymore.

Before you know it, you’re already sobbing. You chuckle to lighten the mood, using your palms to wipe the tears away. But the tips of your lips tremble when you try smiling, and you choke on the lump in your throat. You managed to keep a strong face for the months you’ve been here, but you can’t hide it anymore, even if Jungkook is next to you. The more you think about your home, the more you cry. Within seconds, you lose that smile, breaking down entirely.

To your surprise, Jungkook wraps one arm around you, pulling him close to his shoulder. You rest your head on his shoulder, pausing your cry momentarily before continuing. He pats your back, and although his comforting is stiff, he’s trying his hardest. He doesn’t say anything, unsure of what to say since he’s never have to comfort somebody before.

You want to go home…

But you know you can’t.

[End of Part 1]

Part Two here

A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you for ending this until the end! I appreciate every single one of you reading it, and everyone is welcome to leave a message or comment of any kind ^^. I’ll be making part 2 soon, so in the mean time, have a great day!!

Masterlist

[fieryanmitsu]

Operation: No Curry | A3! Week 2020 – Day 3 (Tsumugi/Izumi)

The rest of my A3! Week entries are very late! But here’s my piece for Day 3! It’s just something light and silly this time, but please enjoy~

OPERATION: NO CURRY

PROMPTS: Summer|Dorm Life/Roommates|Confession

CHARACTERS: Tsumugi Tsukioka, Izumi Tachibana, Sakuya Sakuma, Tsuzuru Minagi, Tenma Sumeragi, Banri Settsu, Taichi Nanao, Hisoka Mikage

PAIRINGS: Tsumugi/Izumi

My fanfic masterpost: Here

AO3: Link in my Blog Menu

“Hot… it’s so hot… I’m going to meeeeelt!!” Taichi lamented from his spot on the floor of the Mankai Company’s lounge. The redhead was already wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt, but sweat still covered his entire body.

“Damn Sakyo! I can’t believe that cheap old man won’t let us turn on the aircon!” Banri growled from his spot at the table, fanning himself desperately with a paper fan. “And I can’t believe I have to use this stupid fan!”

The fan was one of many that Sakyo had asked Sakoda to prepare for them. The kanji for “Simplicity. Frugality. Temperance.” were emblazoned on the plain white fans in Sakoda’s calligraphy. They had only cost 800 yen for a pack of 20, and Sakoda’s labour was free.

“Well… Sakyo did say he would turn it on when it hits 35 degrees at least…” Sakuya replied, looking up from the script he was reading with one hand – the other also limply held a fan. Even the ever-chipper Spring Troupe leader sounded less enthusiastic than usual.

“It’s freakin’ 34 degrees!! We’re only one degree off, but he still won’t turn it on!” Tenma cried, lifting his head up from where he had laid it on the table. After his outburst, he immediately dropped it back on the table, all energy drained out of him. “Banri… fan me too… I can’t move…”

“Maybe we can ask him to count the humidity level… It’s 87% humidity after all… that’s got to count for an extra degree, right?” Sakuya suggested with a chuckle.

“I’m going to dieeeeee, it’s too hooooot!!” Taichi wailed.

“Shut UP, Taichi!! You’re making me feel even hotter!!” Banri snapped.

Suddenly the door to the lounge slammed open and Tsuzuru practically collapsed into the lounge.

“It’s an emergency!” the older boy exclaimed, his face pale and dripping with sweat.

“Tsuzuru?! What happened?”

“The director… I just saw her walking back from grocery shopping with Tsumugi. And I overheard that… that… that she’s making extra spicy curry for dinner tonight!!”

The lounge was silent for a moment as the gravity of what Tsuzuru just uttered sank in. Then, the room immediately erupted into a flurry of panicked voices.

“E-extra spicy curry?!”

“GYAAAAH!! It’s too hot for curry!!”

“IS SHE FREAKIN’ CRAZY?!”

“NOOOOOO! We’re going to dieeeeee!”

“GUYS! Pull it together. We just… we have to stop her!” Tsuzuru interrupted, hauling himself back onto his feet.

“How do we do that?!” Taichi moaned.

“Don’t panic! I have a plan!” Banri replied, his brain already churning. “Taichi! Go get Omi! Make him take over dinner duty to make something normal to eat! Sakuya, you and Tenma intercept the director and distract her while she’s putting away the groceries. Make sure she doesn’t start prepping those ingredients! Tsuzuru, you’re with me! ‘Operation: No Curry’ officially starts right now!”

“You’re the boss, boss!” Taichi responded, jumping to his feet with a salute. Despite having been glued to the floor in exhaustion mere moments ago, it was as if the thought of eating hot and spicy curry in the heat had shot energy through his veins. A second later, he was dashing out of the lounge to hunt down his roommate.  

Almost immediately afterwards, Izumi and Tsumugi walked through the door, hands weighed down with numerous shopping bags.

“We’re back!”

“D-Director! Let us help you with those groceries!!” Tenma exclaimed, scrambling off his chair.

“You should sit down, Izumi! You must be tired!” Sakuya said, taking the grocery bags from her arms and passing them to Tenma.

“H-Huh? Oh, you don’t have to do that—Whoa!” Izumi started to protest, but a moment later, Sakuya had already forcibly pushed her to sit down on the couch.

“TSUMUGI! We need to talk to you!!” Banri jumped in immediately.

“Th-That’s right! It’s urgent!” Tsuzuru added, taking his cue from Banri. He took the bags from Tsumugi and dropped them on the table before joining the Autumn Troupe leader in pushing Tsumugi into the hallway.

“W-Wait, what’s wrong, you two?!” Tsumugi exclaimed in confusion as the two younger boys jostled him out of the lounge.

As soon as they were in the hallway, Banri and Tsuzuru cornered Tsumugi against the wall.

“Tsumugi…” Banri’s voice lowered as he stared intently at the older man. “How could you betray us?”

“B-Betray?” Tsumugi gasped, looking back at Banri with wide eyes.

“You went grocery shopping with the director. It was your duty to stop her from buying ingredients for curry,” Tsuzuru added in an equally grave voice.

“Huh? Is this what this is about?” Tsumugi said with a chuckle.

“This is no laughing matter! It’s so DAMN hot!! How could you let her make curry for us in this heat?!” Banri responded, shaking Tsumugi by the shoulders.

“Ahaha, er, well, she was really gung ho about it. Saying how the best way to beat the heat was to overpower it with more heat. Something about sweating would cool your skin off?”

“We’ll die, Tsumugi. If we have to eat extra spicy curry in this heat, we’ll literally die,” Tsuzuru responded bluntly, his eyes already looking half-dead.

“Look, Hisoka’s already dead from the heat – we’ll be next,” Banri stated, suddenly pointing down the hallway. Sure enough, Hisoka was splayed out face down on the floor in the middle of the corridor.

“H-Hisoka?! Maybe we should check on him?!”

“No, we’ll take care of him later. You have something more important to do,” Tsuzuru replied, waving his hand casually.

“I do?!”

“You need to get Izumi out of the dorms so that she can’t cook dinner,” Banri responded. “We need her far and away from here. Distract her for the next two or three hours while we get Omi to cook instead. He isn’t a curry freak and will make us something normal to eat.”

“But, why me? I’m actually fine with eating curry—”

“No, it’s your responsibility. You have to atone for your crime.”

“What crime?!”

“Let’s go!”

And in another whirlwind of limbs, Tsumugi was suddenly shoved back into the lounge and pushed in front of Izumi, still seated on the couch where Sakuya and Tenma were bombarding her with (fake) questions about the script in Sakuya’s hands.

“Izumi!” Tsuzuru hollered.

“Tsumugi has something to tell you!” Banri announced, clapping Tsumugi on the shoulder with an iron grip.

“Hmm? What is it, Tsumugi?”

“Uh… Umm… I… I…” Tsumugi stuttered – what exactly was he supposed to say?!

His eyes flickered from Izumi’s face to Tenma’s, and then Sakuya’s, and then landed on a magazine on the coffee table before them. Flustered, Tsumugi snatched up the magazine and pointed to the cover without really reading it.

“Th-This! I-I need to go here. With you. Right now!”

Everyone froze as they all stared at the front of the magazine. It was a bridal magazine, probably Yuki’s for costume design inspiration if the bear-shaped sticky notes sticking out of the pages indicated anything. The front-page splash was a photograph of a church with bright and bold words written across that read: ‘Top 10 Churches in Tokyo to Hold your Summer Wedding!’

No one seemed to know what to say. A cold bead of sweat dripped down the back of Tsumugi’s neck. Finally, after what felt like ages, Tsuzuru was the first to recover.

“Th-That’s right! This is for that… that guest performance that you have tomorrow right, Tsumugi? You were telling me about how you had to play a groom!”

“Y-Yes! I… I just realized that it would be good to get in some last minute practice! I figure this would really immerse me in the role – being at an actual church!” Tsumugi ad-libbed, working off of Tsuzuru’s line.

“H-Huh? B-but why do you need me there?” Izumi asked, stunned.

“Well, it would be better to practice with an opposing actor, wouldn’t it?” Banri replied.

“In that case, I should definitely not go with you – you know I can’t act,” Izumi dismissed breezily. “If Tsumugi needs someone to practice with, why don’t one of you go? It’ll be good practice in case any of you play a female role in the future! Anyway, I need to get started on dinner—”

Banri suddenly elbowed Tsumugi in the ribs and the older man, literally spurred into action, fell to his knees and grabbed Izumi’s hands in his own. Suddenly, it looked like a switch had been turned on, and his expression changed completely.

“No, it has to be you, Izumi,” Tsumugi said softly, his face serious and intense. His hands grasped hers tighter, gently drawing them closer to his chest, and he leaned his upper body closer towards her. “I want to make my practice as realistic as possible – to be as immersed in the scenario as much as I can. I could only do that with you as my practice partner. As my bride. After all… you’re the one I love, Izumi.”

For the third time within the past ten minutes, the entire room fell silent. They had all unconsciously been drawn into Tsumugi’s performance, and his sudden confession had been so heartfelt that every one of them had stopped breathing. Izumi could only stare back at Tsumugi with a slack jaw, wide eyes and bright red cheeks.

“Won’t you come with me, Izumi? Won’t you be my bride?” Tsumugi asked softly, one hand reaching up to cup her cheek tenderly and his eyes looking up at her imploringly.

“O-Okay,” Izumi answered, half out of shock.

“You don’t know how happy you’ve made me, Izumi! Let’s go then – the boys will take care of dinner,” Tsumugi replied with a wide, toothy grin.

He gently tugged Izumi to her feet, intertwined their fingers and swiftly led her out of the lounge by the hand. As the door closed behind them, the remaining actors could only look at each other in disbelief.

“Tsumugi… He was acting just now, right?” Sakuya asked.

“Wow, he seriously is a pro when it comes to those subtle emotions – He hooked me right in…” Tenma responded with a shake of his head.

“No kidding… But, well, that’s that! Let’s go check on Taichi and Omi and get this non-curry dinner started! I’d say ‘Operation: No Curry’ is a grand success,” Tsuzuru added, clapping his hands together.

“Of course it was a success – I was the one who came up with it, after all,” Banri boasted, already heading towards the dorms.

“Hey! Somen! I want somen! Do you think Omi would make somen tonight?!” Tenma exclaimed excitedly.

“Oh yeah, someone needs to go check on Hisoka… I think he’s still sleeping in the hallway,” Banri remarked, suddenly remembering the older man.

“Uh, I hope he’s just sleeping…” Tsuzuru muttered, causing Sakuya to whip his head to look at him in alarm.

“Wait, what?! What happened to Hisoka?!”

Outside of the Mankai Company, Tsumugi led the still-dumbstruck Izumi up a side street, distinctly aware of the feeling of her hand held tight in his. They proceeded in silence for a few minutes until they arrived at a nearby park, where Tsumugi finally slowed down their steps.

“Izumi, let’s take a quick break here,” he said, sitting her onto a bench under the shade of a nearby tree.  

“Oh! Ah, sure, sounds good,” Izumi responded, finally recovered from her stupor.

“I’ll be right back!” Tsumugi said, before he quickly jogged over to a vending machine. Pulling out his wallet, he counted out a few hundred yen and bought a bottle of cold green tea. Returning to Izumi, he suddenly dipped himself into a bow and proffered the bottle to her.

“I’m sorry, Izumi! I tricked you just now! I don’t have any guest performances tomorrow – I don’t need to practice anything! Please accept this drink as an apology!”

Izumi stared owlishly at the drink floating in front of her face. A moment later, after Tsumugi’s words sunk in, she let out a laugh.

“Oh man, you really surprised me earlier! We had just been together too, and you didn’t mention anything about a guest performance, so I was so shocked when you came out of nowhere and said all of that!” she replied, taking the drink out of his hands. “And, of course you’re forgiven – though there’s nothing to forgive, really. But, why did you trick me anyway?”

“Ahaha… Well, I’m sure it’s obvious in hindsight, but Banri and Tsuzuru asked me to do it. Er, well, maybe that’s not quite right. Rather they asked me to distract you and get you out of the dorms,” he responded sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

“Huh? Why did they want you to do that?”

“Errr, something about wanting to make dinner… or something,” he responded evasively, his eyes glancing away briefly before returning to her face and crinkling into a mischievous smile. “But, well, since we’re already out here, why don’t we honour their wishes and go enjoy ourselves for a bit? We could go somewhere with aircon, since we don’t have it on at home.”

“Oooh, that’s actually a great idea! Let’s go to the shopping mall, then! I haven’t had a chance to browse around for a while!” she replied.

“That sounds good to me,” Tsumugi agreed, falling into step beside her as they started walking again. They were only a few inches apart, and Tsumugi felt his hand twitch, wanting to reach across the short distance to grab a hold of hers again.

“But you know… you never cease to impress me with your acting, Tsumugi,” Izumi said suddenly, turning her head to give him a smile.

“Oh?” Tsumugi prompted. He could feel his heart rate quickening.

“When you grabbed my hands and confessed that you loved me… I couldn’t tell you were acting at all – it felt so real. You seriously made my heart beat so fast! My face felt like it was on fire! I’m so embarrassed!” Izumi responded, looking away shyly. She held the bottle of tea up to her face, trying to cool off her flushed cheeks.

“Ah, that’s probably because I wasn’t acting…” Tsumugi muttered quietly, half hoping that the woman next to him heard.

A second passed by without a response. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Izumi continued to walk without having missed a step – still smiling normally as she held the bottle to her cheek – and he knew that his words had been drowned out by the call of the cicadas.

This ended on a much more wistful note than I had intended, haha. But, maybe that’s just how it was meant to go since I was working with Tsumugi! Precious Tsumugi is my second favourite A3! boy, so I’m happy to write something where he gets a bit more of the spotlight! I also had a lot of fun writing the silly, overdramatic Mankai teenagers (and poor Tsumugi who got roped in), so hopefully you all had fun reading!

A3! Week 2020 is almost over at this point, but I will still be putting out content for the rest of the prompts that I haven’t gotten to yet! Please stay tuned if you’re interested, and likes and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you~

-Anmitsu

[frighthouseofalighthouse]

All weird asks!! They're so good!

Sorry this is a bit late, babe! I wanted to wait til I had the opportunity to answer all these uninterrupted!

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Coffee mugs! tbh I drink tea out of coffee mugs because who actually uses teacups? I mean my grandma has tons and I would use them, but the handles are so tiny and I am v clumsy so it scares me.

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate bars!!! I’m too impatient for lollipops and plus they always get coated in saliva which just...drips down my chin since my mouth is already full.

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Bubblegum! I love cotton candy but I can only handle a bit at a time tbh. Also I haven’t had bubblegum in almost two years bc of braces and I miss it so much I can’t wait to have it again.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

Okay, so even though I’ve always been homeschooled, when I was in elementary school we did this program with a ton of other homeschoolers where you could take actual classes and stuff. My teachers always said I was quiet and focused and studious, and you could always count on me to be lecturing everyone else on the instructions if they hadn’t been paying attention. (does any of that surprise anyone?)

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? GLASS SODA BOTTLES. nothing beats soda that’s been bottled in glass rather than plastic. You ever had orange cream soda from a glass bottle????? SLAPS ASS MY DUDE.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Pastel/boho/preppy/goth, my dude. I have so many sides to my fashion and aesthetic.

7. earbuds or headphones?

EARBUDS BC HEADPHONES NEVER FIT OVER MY EARS RIGHT. BUT EARBUDS WITH SOFT TIPS BECAUSE MY EARS ARE TOO SMALL FOR THE PLASTIC ONES.

8. movies or tv shows?

Tv shows tbh because even though I can binge 4 eps of 45 minutes each per night, they’ll hold my attention a lot more than a movie. It’s weird.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

Thunderstorms/petrichor, also natural bogs. PEAT BOG SMELL FUCKING SLAPS.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

None. I liked trampoline time back when we took gymnastics, if that counts. I also liked jump roping and Irish step dancing.

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

Nothing lmao. I sleep til like noon and then I microwave something for lunch.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

My catchall playlist, Things I Love, my summer playlist, Summer Songs, my Gryffindor playlist, My Queen And Country playlist for writing, and my playlist for The Raven Cycle. (after I post this I’ll edit it and link them)

13. lanyard or key ring?

Keyring, a lanyard would like constantly detract from my outfit if that makes sense???

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Sour Patch Kids or Swedish Fish.

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

Between The Grapes Of Wrath, The Great Gatsby, The Handmaid’s Tale, and To Kill A Mockingbird!

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Just fucking sprawled every which way.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

My grey converse if it’s comfortable out, my silver flip flops if it’s hot, and my fur-lined black combat boots if it’s cold.

18. ideal weather?

65-70 degrees, partly sunny, breezy, not humid.

19. sleeping position?

I need to sprawl to fall asleep, but once I’m asleep I curl up into a little ball.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Laptop and notebook ONLY IF I’m sure of myself, which isn’t often. But I do write dense, scribbled paragraphs on sermon note pages if something comes to me during church lmao.

21. obsession from childhood?

The American Revolution, weather, astronomy, and mysteries/ghost stories.

22. role model?

Idk tbh? Lately I’m just trying to define and live up to my own standards?

23. strange habits?

Pulling the collar of my shirt up to my mouth and sucking on it. Also being a perfectionist in my writing. I don’t do messy drafts. It’s all perfect by the time I write it, and I edit/spellcheck as I go.

24. favorite crystal?

Amethyst (my birthstone), bismuth, opal, and blue goldstone.

25. first song you remember hearing?

Other than nursery rhymes/kid’s songs, it was Light Up The Sky by The Afters, or California Dreamin’ by The Mamas And The Papas.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Find shade/a cool spot and read with a cold drink.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

ALSO READ. And snuggle with thick socks and a cup of tea and play DS games all day.

28. five songs to describe you?

My five faves atm -

I Am Here // Pink

The Pines // Roses and Revolutions

Soldier, Poet, King // The Oh Hellos

Traveler’s Song // Aviators

Hymn // Kesha

29. best way to bond with you?

Share my interests about politics, history, books, true crime, paranormal, tv shows, and also be kind and understanding when I don’t text for long periods bc I don’t feel up to talking.

30. places that you find sacred?

The woods on the hill behind my house. Dense, deeply green, secluded woods. Hedge mazes. Old and crumbling castles. Anywhere beneath a clear sky and a full moon. Your heart when you’ve come to terms with your fears and made peace with yourself. Anyplace with historical significance. Bookstores on an autumn/winter day. Libraries.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

A kickass plaid, bruh. Also my leather jacket - once I lose enough shoulder weight to fit in it again.

32. top five favorite vines?

Fre shavoc ado, the one where the dog eats the butterfly, the Lin-Manuel Miranda one where he’s brainstorming, “what the FUCK kind of weather is this, and the dad and son with the saxophone and the oven door.

33. most used phrase in your phone?

“oh mood”

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

“WOW! It’s NatureStone!”

35. average time you fall asleep?

Right now it’s 4-5 am because I suck.

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

I Can Haz Cheezburger, My mom used to look at the website with me when I was like 10.

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

They both have pros and cons. :/ Duffel bags are easier to carry but suitcases keep stuff from getting broken better.

38. lemonade or tea?

TEAAAAAAAAAAAA

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Lemon meringue pie!!! my stepdad made a really good one the other week.

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

Nothing, since I was homeschooled. Same weird shit that always happens at home. Our safe word for when I got overwhelmed in math was “quokka” and we’d stop and look at cute quokka pictures.

41. last person you texted?

My gf :)

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Jacket pockets because things are not only hard to fit in girls’ pants pockets, but if you put a chapstick/lipstick in there it starts to melt :(

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

BETWEEN HOODIE AND CARDIGAN. SO VERSATILE. SO COMFY.

44. favorite scent for soap?

Irish Spring soap or the blue Dial bars smells better and cleaner than anything to me.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy. It can take me a bit to get into it, but once I do, I love it. I only do sci-fi if it has rebellion and isn’t heavy on the sci. And superhero movies are great but a lot of the tropes are meh. Fantasy has a lot more versatility if you ask me.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Sweatpants/leggings and a soft, well worn tee.

47. favorite type of cheese?

Parmesan, white cheddar, or Muenster.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Raspberry!

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

“do no harm but take no shit.”

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

A really poorly edited political ad on tv a couple years ago. There was weird jazz playing, flames in the background of an image of the Capitol Building, and then the top of the dome opened and this guy’s face was inside. It is the single funniest ad I have ever seen and I laughed for 10 minutes so hard I was like an inch away from passing out.

51. current stresses?

Passing my driving test next month, getting a job, figuring out if my math skills are okay enough to take the SAT or an equivalent test.

52. favorite font?

Baskerville or Georgia!

53. what is the current state of your hands?

My fingernails are short bc I picked them while reading earlier, my cuticles suck bc I pick at those two, and my pinky is obliterated and scabbed because of when I accidentally sliced through the nail with a razor while shaving the other day. So, not great, but I’m living.

54. what did you learn from your first job?

That kids can be really annoying but also really cute and hilarious if you can get them to calm down. And also that baby fingernails are surprisingly sharp.

55. favorite fairy tale?

The OG Princess and the Frog where it’s implied the prince and “faithful Henry,’ his carriage driver, fall in love and ride off together at the end. JACOB AND WILHELM GRIMM SAID GAY RIGHTS.

56. favorite tradition?

Every December, my mom and I drive around after dark at night and I play Pokemon and we rate everyone’s Christmas decorations based on tackiness.

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

So isolated I was as a preteen/early teenager, my self harm, and the internalized anger over my abusive relationship and PTSD.

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

Writing, puzzle solving, singing, and calligraphy.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

“Benvoli-no.” (I recently remembered I used to say that a lot and I need to bring it back)

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

Dark, fairy tale anime with a lot of secrets to uncover and some dark woods.

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

TV show - “I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself.” - Doctor Who

Movie - “It’s not about deserve. It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love.” - Wonder Woman

Book - “If you never saw the stars, candles were enough.” - The Dream Thieves, by Maggie Stiefvater

62. seven characters you relate to?

Dean Winchester - Supernatural

Sam Winchester - Supernatural

Jack Kline Winchester - Supernatural

Charlie Bradbury - Supernatural

Gansey - The Raven Cycle

Blue Sargent - The Raven Cycle

Hermione Granger - Harry Potter

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Final Song // MO

Call Home // Heathers

I Am Here // Pink

Babylon // 5 Seconds of Summer

Shake It Off // Taylor Swift

64. favorite website from your childhood?

WEBKINZ AND THE OLD AMERICAN GIRL WEBSITE

65. any permanent scars?

Yes, I have several that remain from self harm, scars all over my left knee from being a clumsy child, and most of all a major scar down the center of my chest from heart surgery when I was a baby.

66. favorite flower(s)?

Rose, lavender, lilac, and dahlia.

67. good luck charms?

Not really???

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Olives, mushrooms, radishes, cottage cheese, and ranch dressing are all foul.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Martin Luther didn’t actually nail his 95 theses to the church door, he just kind of passed them around, which is a lot less dramatic tbh. Also light-up signs were first used in New York City in 1884.

70. left or right handed?

I’m left-handed!

71. least favorite pattern?

I think zebra stripes, leopard print, and houndstooth are super ugly.

72. worst subject?

Math for sure. Even science would be easier if it didn’t involve so much math.

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

Wendy’s fries and chocolate frosty!!!

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

I think a 7, usually. My pain tolerance is pretty high because of a) years of self harm, and b) due to my PTSD my muscles are constantly tense and in pain anyway.

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

I was 4, and it had been loose but it fell out when I was trying to blow up an inflatable ball.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

Fries or roasted potatoes that are charred and crunchy on the bottom. Chips are a close third.

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

Idk, my grandma’s the one with the green thumb mania lmao. But She keeps a lot of violets and arrowhead plants in the windowsills!

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

NEITHER I HATE BOTH COFFEE AND SUSHI IN ALL CIRCUMSTANCES.

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

Never had a school ID, but my temporary license photo is actually pretty good right now!

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

I really like earth tones for myself.

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

THEY ARE THE SAME MF THING. Also I call them both, it just depends on what comes out of my mouth haha.

82. pc or console?

PC, I guess, though I don’t really game. I just watch my stepdad game.

83. writing or drawing?

WRITING. I cannot draw to save my life.

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Podcasts, talk radio is so annoying.

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Barbie, although I loved both.

85. fairy tales or mythology?

Mythology I guess??? Although again, I love both.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

COOKIESSSSS

87. your greatest fear?

Rejection, losing people I love, people secretly hating me. Also drowning, spiders, clowns, and guns.

88. your greatest wish?

To be a semi-successful author and work in a library/museum.

89. who would you put before everyone else?

My mom and my gf.

90. luckiest mistake?

Almost dropping a knife blade first on my foot but it landed between my toes.

91. boxes or bags?

um boxes I guess? I’m really good at fitting things in tetris style.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

FAIRY LIGHTS AND DIM YELLOW LAMPS.

93. nicknames?

Ell, Alexander, Ellie, Little Lion, and Nerd.

94. favorite season?

FALL FALL FALL FALL

95. favorite app on your phone?

Tumblr or Spotify. Two apps I couldn’t live without.

96. desktop background?

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

About a half dozen. Mine, my mom’s, my stepdad’s, my grandparents’ home number, my grandpa’s, and my grandma’s.

98. favorite historical era?

Both the American Revolutionary period and the Victorian Era (esp in Britain)

THANK YOU LOVE THIS WAS SUPER FUN

[theinfiniteabysses]

On Saturday, March 30, Katey and I were able to check off our sixth major league baseball stadium at Yankee Stadium in the Bronx. It was my first “opening weekend” game ever as the Bronx Bombers took on the Baltimore Orioles. We ended last season with a visit to Baltimore in September for our fifth stadium.

Although the damn birds took this game, albeit a strong ninth inning effort by the Yankees, it was wonderful and comfortable to be back at home base. (Katey is a Detroit Tigers fan for some reason.)

Remember, we took in the Baltimore-born Babe [Ruth] as our own.

Yankee Stadium [Photo by C. Malone]

Yankee Stadium [Photo by C. Malone]

There is always a subconscious countdown to opening day of baseball season. There is a lot to be excited about. Baseball is definitely the United States’ pastime. It’s the signifier of pleasant weather ahead, at least for the northmost states; although, Central New York is battling a case of the residual snowflakes.

The drive home last Sunday took only a handful of hours, but the accompanying weather made it feel like it was a Monty Python-esqe year-long ordeal — spring fever in Jersey City, haze and summer morning humidity in Ramsey (NJ), a cool autumn feel in Mountain Top (PA), and it was snowing by the time we hit Cortland (NY).

But the sun was shining on The Big Apple.

We took the ferry from Jersey City, which was a great idea. Although I love staying in New York, especially Brooklyn, the boat was a convenient trip to Manhattan. Katey’s friend was celebrating a milestone birthday as well, so “Dirty Jers” was a clean clear option.

I’ve enjoyed the New Yankee Stadium as an adult as much as the old stadium as a child. Yes, the wear-and-tear was definitely noticeable. Plus, the Yankees, being the organization they are, want to make some more moolah.

The only thing I really dislike about the stadium is the food. Maybe I didn’t look too hard, but any stadium patron shouldn’t have to. Boston, Detroit, Baltimore, and Los Angeles (particularly Dodgers Stadium) all had these stadium standout food options. Yankees need to work on that.

And their service.

We opted for a standard Nathan’s hotdog ($5.75); a classic sausage, peppers, and onion ($8.75); and a bag of popcorn ($7 and change). Nope, no beer. Food was on the minds, and Yankee Stadium wasn’t pouring any craft beer we hadn’t had before.

There is a debate to be had between the downstate Nathan’s and upstate Hofmann’s. On a personal note, I enjoy both. But I’m a Hofmann’s guy

Hoffman’s Mixed Double at Heid’s [Photo by C. Malone]

Yankee Stadium Nathan’s Famous [Photo by C. Malone]

On the left is a Hoffman’s mixed double at Heid’s of Liverpool, NY, which is a coney (white hot dog) and a standard frank. On the right is a Yankee Stadium Nathan’s Famous. Nathan’s Famous originates from Brooklyn, where Coney Island is. There is no correlation between the coney dog (veal, pork, egg) and the island of fun.

Appearance wise, Hofmann’s dog has more girth. It looks like a standard hot dog. Nathan’s product looks long and wimpy. Looks, however, are deceiving. The latter/downstate dog is still a snappy dog. I’ve never dismissed the crisp snap of biting into a Nathan’s, which is flavorful. The Hofmann and Nathan dogs are distinct in their own right — try them because, truth be told, they can’t be described. Nathan’s don’t have coneys, which does put them in a slight disadvantage despite doing what they already do right. But, New York state can boast about having three great hot diggity dogs.

Unfortunately, there’s The Great Outdoors and the “lips and assholes” quote.

Found at teepublic.com

Found at replygif.net

The sausage sandwich was pretty darn good despite its lackluster appearance. The classic sausage with peppers and onions looked gloomy in all honesty. But the sausage was flavorful and the veggie friends, albeit coated in oil, were near perfect.

Sausage, peppers, and onions — Oh, my! [Photo by C. Malone]

The service at Yankee Stadium was the worst. The vendors were cliche — as slow as molasses. There were multiple lines at the sausage stand, and an inning had passed while waiting in line.

Katey and I broke apart and stood in different lines. Whoever got to the counter first “won,” and the other bailed their line. Katey arrived at the counter before I did, but that still doesn’t say much.

The popcorn line, which was one line only, took less time.

Popcorn, here! [Photo by C. Malone]

Plus, the popcorn, which cost about a buck less than the sausage sammy, was worth the money with consideration to the amount.

Regardless of the food, it was great to be back. Watching the Yankees live and in person is reliving another part of my childhood. Although he passed before we went, my grandfather was there. My grandmother is always there. My paternal grandmother especially, but both of them are there with me.

The first game I saw was against the Tigers. The second was against the Royals. And my partner is royally dedicated to the Tigers. It’s fitting. Now that we’ve checked off both of our stadiums, we can frequently visit as “one-off” games, not having to wait until we complete the entire stadium list.

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BLOG UPDATE: Primed and Pinstriped -- Enjoying a Yankee game opening weekend and checking off the sixth baseball stadium #Yankees #YankeePride #baseball #openingweekend On Saturday, March 30, Katey and I were able to check off our sixth major league baseball stadium at…

[stephanine-sims]

AnoTHER Seasons Tag~

I was accidentally tagged by @mysteriousdane​.. ¿Thank? lmao 💖

1. Which season are you going to play with first? Most likely summer! Bc it’s been so hot and humid the last few days where I live and I want that in my legacy too :~)

2. From what you’ve seen in the trailer, what are you most excited about? SWINGS?! I don’t care if that is a stupid thing to be excited about but I’m SO excited!! OH, and the baby pool!

3. What’s your favourite season irl? Spring :-)

4. What’s your favourite flower/plant? I don’t really have one?? I like roses and sunflowers? I’m actually growing some sunflowers at home hehe :~)  As for plants.. I love little cacti and succulents!

5. Are you going to create a new sim/family or are you going to keep your current household? I haven’t played with a new household.. in almost 2 years... Literally.. lmaO

6. What would you like to see in this new add-on that we haven’t seen yet? Oh boy, I don’t know!! I can’t imagine anything that I want in the seasons pack that we haven’t seen? I guess I would like to see some new slides for the pool? But I’m very happy with what I’ve seen so far!!!

7. How do you feel about not having a new neighbourhood? Eh, I’m okay with it? I would’ve loved to see one but I’m not heartbroken?

8. Snow, rain, sun or wind? sUN!

9. Favourite refreshing drink in summer? Ice cold water is amazing? Or some ice cold coke, yes!

10. Favourite hot drink in winter? Ah, I just drink tea hehe :-)

11. Walk through the forest or by the beach? Oh the forest, 110%!!! The beach is too sandy, ew

12. Swimming pool or ocean? A swimming pool, for the same reason as previous question!

13. Where would you like to travel if you could leave right now for a week? Uh.. I don’t know? I’m pretty content where I am now :~) And I’m going to Canada and the end of June so I already have a holiday planned lmao

13. How is the weather today? Ah, it’s been a bit annoying? Hot, around 25C but also humid and raining? But at least there’s some wind so it’s not too bad!

14. What new traits would you like to see in the new add-on? I honestly have no idea? I’ll be happy with anything, tbh! :-D

15. Do you like to play with supernatural creatures like vampires and aliens? and if so, would you like to have witches/fairies/elves? No, I don’t play with supernaturals? I own the vampire pack but I literally never played with then until a week or two ago.

16. What is your favourite thing to do during winter? Sit on the couch with my bun buns, eat cake, snuggle my boyfriend and watch a movie!

17. …during spring? Sit outside and enjoy the nice breeze on a decently warm day!

18. …during summer? Travel, explore cities and nice forests and mountains. Then come home, relax and do nothing!!

19. …during autumn? Sit inside and enjoy the view of colored leaves and rainstorms!!

20. Have you already pre-ordered seasons? and if you haven’t, are you going to pre-order it or wait until it comes out? I haven’t preordered it yet bc I won’t be here when the pack is released :-( I’m actually leaving home the 22nd... How tragic is that?! :-( Rip!!! I’ll just order it once it’s released and play when I get home.

21. In which neighbourhood are you going to play first with seasons? Probably San Myshuno? Bc my legacy is currently there lmao :-)

22. Do you listen to music while playing? and if so, what are your favourite songs to play to? Nope! I usually watch game play videos (of literally any other game than sims though!) or series/movies :-)

23. What’s your favourite thing to do in the sims? Creating sims, building, etc? I love a bit of all! Creating > Building > Playing though haha

24. What’s your favourite kit/pack/add-on? Ohhh, my favorite pack.. That’s a hard one? I guess the Cats&Dogs one, just because I’ve been wanting pets for so long? City Living, Outdoor Retreat and  Parenthood are nice too! The Jungle Pack looks nice too but I don’t own that one ijfoh :-(

25. And finally, what add-on/pack would you like to see next? I personally would LOVE to see a University Expansion Pack, like in S3? I love that style and there were always my favorite packs in S2 and S3. A would love a good beach/mountains focused pack though, so we can have some variety of vacation spots :-)

I’ll tag @nooboos @purrsephonesims @quillfruit @thesadnesshotline @shysimblr @linkysims @simblragain @purplesimmer455 @mayor--whiskers and @racingllama! Again, sorry if you’ve already done this tag! :’-)