#they’re singing you’re never fully dressed without a smile al HAS to be there

[perereiii]

they’d be best friends I think

[jimlingss]

Ducklings & Dimples 2

Original / Sequel

➜ Words: 17.1k

➜ Genres: 58% Fluff, 20% Adventure, 20% Action, 2% Angst, Historical!AU - kind of

➜ Summary: After your adventures with Yoongi, you head home to face your family and the duties you've run from. A year has passed since. But you never anticipated meeting him again with his fiancée.

The country of Pegan is one you’ve never had the opportunity to venture into. It was a place that you teetered on, scaling the border, poking your head into one or two of the small villages just to sell in before you were on your way. But you had heard lots about it in his letters. You just never thought you would be visiting it in such a way. Ten round towers form a protective barrier around the elegant castle and are connected by firm walls made of gray stone. Refined windows are scattered generously across the walls in an asymmetric pattern. Beyond the gates are well kept gardens with fragrant flowers, gorgeous trees and many bushes that decorate the outside of the castle. The castle itself has clearly been around for at least a thousand years, but it doesn't seem like it will collapse any time soon. “Back straight. You’re slouching, Taehyung,” your mother barks to your youngest brother and sharply inhales when Jin purposely bumps into him with his broad shoulders, telltale signs he’s trying to instigate more bickering. “Stop that right now, young man. You’re supposed to set an example as the eldest.” “I wasn’t even doing anything!” Jin protests to no avail. Taehyung’s mouth curls as he jumps on the opportunity to berate his older brother, “You’re twenty six. You should act like it.” Seokjin’s mouth drops open. “How dare you bring my age into this.” “Can you guys please shut your mouths for one second?” Lia is exasperated and glares. “People are staring at us.” “Now, now, children.” Your dad clears his throat and brushes off his shoulders. “Let’s not give your mother a hard time and argue in front of the Duchess’ castle.” Your mother holds in her sigh temporarily and makes it to your sister, smoothing out her dress that’s been wrinkled from the carriage ride. “Hair in place, darling.” Then she makes it to the end of the line and looks at you. Your eyes meet hers and you anticipate nagging. Perhaps an insult of how strands of hair have fallen from your updo and around your eyes. Or how you should get rid of that frown off your face before she singes it off. But to your surprise, your mother merely smiles and swivels around. “Shall we enter?” She’s trying — you can see it and it’s an effort you appreciate. Your entire family climbs the marble steps leading up to the grand doors already open with folks filtering inside. It was the Duchess of Pegan’s birthday, a week long affair and evidently, a huge celebration. Much too extravagant for your own tastes, but it’s not like your opinion matters. “Kaela, Elden!” The man in the foyer comes over with a golden chalice and his wife trails after him. Immediately, your mother curtsies along with your sister and you dip down after a delayed second, momentarily forgetting the manners drilled into your brain. “Duke and Duchess Fesan. It’s a pleasure.” “Oh please, don’t be a stranger. It’s been too long!” The older man has silver, short hair that almost fully covers his thin, lived-in face. But his eyes are fond as if he has seen many good things in his lifetime. Fesan Winsor is a duke, brother to the king that runs Pegan. You only know such facts after the relentless history lessons with your overbearing tutor. He gives a light embrace to your mother and father, nods his head towards you and Lia, and shakes Seokjin’s hand. “Why, you’ve grown to be such a strapping, young man. Handsome, indeed. The last I’ve seen of you, you were but a wee boy.” “Thank you.” Jin practically beams over the praise and you and Taehyung roll your eyes. “Are you looking to get married any time soon?” His irises sparkle. “Do you have someone in mind, your grace?” The Duke barks out laughing at the witty quip and your mother audibly sighs. “Seokjin’s much too deep in finishing his studies to be considering marriage, unfortunately. And a bit too immature to handle the responsibilities of such a thing.” “Oh you never know about children,” Duchess Jacquelyn laughs boisterously. “They always grow up faster than we realize.” The Duchess is in a lavish dress that looks like it’s about to swallow her whole, flashy to the maximum and heavy diamonds are wrapped around her neck. It makes you wonder if it aches. Her golden hair is stark with a bit of gray, yet she is bright eyed and overly friendly as she squeezes the living daylights out of Lia and then you. It’s unusual how she has no respect for personal boundaries or what’s mannerly for a high-class lady that she is. There’s small talk made between your father and the Duke, but as the Duchess pulls away from you, her face lights up as if she recalls something. “Wait a moment! You are Y/N, correct?” “Uh, yes. I am, madam.” “Then you were the one who defeated that vicious dragon from the North with Yoongi, weren’t you?! Why your tale of bravery is infamous!” She grasps your hands with an excited smile. You swallow hard, not sure how you feel about being viewed as a hero when you’re not. But you don’t say anything for fear of having to explain. It’s not like you told your own family the true story. “Yes, what an amazing feat,” Duke Winsor marvels. “You must be very prideful to have such a hero in the family.” Your mother is visibly pleased while your dad plops a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N is indeed turning out to be the best sorcerer in our family.” “You would be too if you studied more,” Taehyung mutters to Lia and nudges her while she glares at him. “What about you, Mr. I’m-too-tired-to-practice-magic.” “Children,” your mother’s voice is full of scolding but a pleasant smile is placed on her features. It’s frightening and jarring how different her expression can be from what comes out of her mouth. “Oh, you must be so eager to see your old friend.” The Duchess turns over her shoulder. “Yoongi was here just a moment ago.” You nod stiffly, tight-lipped. “I’ll make sure to send my greetings to him later.” The middle-aged folks continue talking as you and the rest of your siblings stand there like stone statues that are decorating the castle. But as you look around the crowds, fearing the worst, you feel Jin poke you. “Was that the guy you were sending letters to every day?” he asks, referring to what Duchess Jacquelyn said. “Shut it.” Taehyung raises his brows with an amused smile, but no one speaks. It’s become a sensitive topic but always has been — you’ve never let any of them see your letters and you threw a big fuss on several occasions when Lia tried to sneak peaks. Now you regret it. Why did you spend so much time doing such petty, futile things. Eventually, you’re granted mercy when the Duke and Duchess continue welcoming new arrivals and everyone disperses for drinks. And unlike what they said, you’re not eager to see your old ‘friend’ at all. You’re trying to steer clear of him. “What are you doing standing here in the corner?” Your mother finds you reclusive with a flute of ale. It’s not the most sophisticated drink, but does enough to put you more at ease. Though, much to your dismay, she pries the glass out of your grip. “You should be socializing! Making connections. Like your brother!” She turns and you see Taehyung by the refreshment table with a younger girl who looks visibly uncomfortable. He barks out in deafening laughter, startling a few other guests and your mother sighs while you hold back a smile. “Maybe not quite like him.” “Is there something you want to say, mom?” It’s not like her to be so vague and to encourage you to talk to others. She’s always been apprehensive about you mingling, assuming you’re trying to scam them — which you usually are, so her caution isn’t unreasonable. “There’s a divine soul sorcerer,” she announces and instantly, you groan. “Of course there is.” “Don’t give me that look. You haven’t even spoken to him yet.” Unlike how you receive your magic from a legendary phoenix, divine soul sorcerers are blessed individuals who have a connection to divine beings. Whether they align with an ancient prophecy or their ancestor is an angel. They’re undoubtedly someone who could match the status of your family. You’re starting to suspect the reason your mother even came all the way over here was to get you to meet him. “Fine, I’ll talk to him,” you say, just to get her off your back. Your mother’s wrinkles crease when she smiles. “Good to hear. Now that’s one less issue off my plate— “ “I think Taehyung’s trying to impress that girl,” you interrupt, tilting your body over to the youngest who’s about to set the tablecloth on fire. Your mother practically swears underneath her breath and goes marching over without bidding you farewell. There’s a faint smile on your features and as a Halfling waiter passes, you grab a glass of manycherries wine. You release a long exhale, feeling your eyes bags deepen as exhaustion sets into you. Your eyes flicker to the fire roaring underneath the mantle. The rose and orange flames glow against your cheeks. Your fingers. And incidentally, it grows stronger. You feel the fire envelop you. The chatter of the room simmers down as you focus on the crackle and pop of the inferno. But unfortunately, it doesn’t last long. Not with the shrill voices close to you— “It’s a surprise, no? Even the Duke’s fiftieth birthday wasn’t as extravagant as this. All five houses are here and they even extended the invitations to families beyond Pegan.” “Well perhaps they had a good season or maybe one of the houses expanded their territory and we just haven’t heard about it yet. The Duke and Duchess looks after the entire territory and all the faction houses. It’s only natural they benefit from any changes, right?” “Don’t you two know?” “Know what?” “The reason this celebration is lavish….is because it’s practically an engagement party in disguise.” You exhale out of your nose, downing the glass of wine and when you finish, you see a familiar face in the midst. It’s a slender half-Elf with long blonde hair that’s half tied up and reaches to his ribs. Yorril. You remember his name after beating his ass with Yoongi in Bogsburrough a year ago. The memory causes the corner of your mouth to tug in a smirk. He sees you too and immediately turns away, walking off with his eyes wide. There are lots of people from different factions here, but you don’t know any of their names and don’t care to. Though out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a tall man in a white cape fluttering behind with his eyes focused right on you — undoubtedly the divine sorcerer your mother was referring to by his blinding aura — and you take Yorril’s inspiration and walk away as well. You drop your glass on a nearby table and zip into the dark hallway without looking back. You’re not sure where you’re going, merely winding down the corridors. But eventually your steps slow. Goosebumps raise all over the back of your arm. It feels like you’re being watched. Like there’s someone creeping. That there’s a presence behind you. But before you can turn around to discern what it is, a husky timbre makes you halt. “...alright?” At once your body seizes, freezing in its stop. Your blood runs warmer and your back meets the stone wall. There’s a sliver of light coming from the parted door inches away and you pull your orb out from the secret pocket you sewn into your dress. Gripping the object, you channel your magic and cast clairvoyance. The hearing sensor is placed behind the door. “Thank you, Yoongi.” It’s an unfamiliar soft-spoken voice. You hear his hum. “You’re welcome.” “I’m sorry. I know there’s a lot of people out there. I didn’t think my mother would invite so many people. It’s usually not like her to do this and—” “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. I don’t mind as much as you think I do.” “Really?” “I can’t say I enjoy it, but it’s not so bad every so often.” You swallow hard, feeling your heart clog your throat. Though before you can hear another thing, a hand plops down on your shoulder. And you nearly shriek in surprise. Out of all people, you turn to find dad wearing a mischievous smile that Taehyung and Seokjin inherited, and he nudges his chin to the door. “Your mother wouldn’t like you eavesdropping, you know. Come on, let’s go back.” You nod, following after him. The two of you return to the main room and step out into the terrace, away from the crowd. “There’s plenty of other men out there, Y/N.” “I know,” you mutter without looking at him, unable to help sulking. The older man smiles, having an inkling of why you’ve been so quiet. “It’s okay for you to be upset. Everything’s a process of trial and error. And it’s something that’ll come and go in due time.” You sigh lightly, trying to muster a smile that never really comes. “You want me to meet that divine soul sorcerer like mom, don’t you?” “Heavens no.” Your dad pats you on the back as you look out into the gardens. “I just want the best for my daughter.” You meet his eye and he grins. It’s moments like these that you’re glad you came home. “Elden!” The pair of you turn around as an older woman with cat-like eyes and a piercing stare steps out onto the terrace, her slender black dress sparkling like the stars. “My goodness, it’s been ages!” “Hyoyeon.” Your dad gives a laugh. “You haven’t aged a day!” They come to an embrace and she pulls away. “Oh, you’re too kind. Have you met my son yet?” Your worst nightmare emerges. Yoongi is dressed in a black tunic, pants, boots and a black velvet cape draped over his left side. He looks less like a knight on a quest and more like a prince. But one thing that hasn’t changed is his duckling-like hair. Strands of pale yellow that stand out. His eyes immediately center on you in surprise. As if he wasn’t expecting you here. And of course he wasn’t. You hated functions and celebrations like these, but once you heard the rumours, you couldn’t help but beg to come. Or maybe he’s giving you that expression because of how odd you look. You suppose he’s never seen you in anything other than braids and that peasant dress that you used to disguise yourself in. Now, your mother wouldn’t catch you dead in attire like that. But with him comes the Duke’s daughter, Fesan Klarinda, the Marquise of Pegan. She’s petite with spiral curls and dimples dotted in each side of her cheek. She’s the epitome of delicate. Instantly, the girl looks between you and Yoongi, realizing that your gazes are locked into one another’s. “Y/N.” He breathes it out and something swells inside your throat to hear him call your name. It’s hard to keep your face blank and impassive. Yoongi’s mother glances at him and then you. “You know each other?” “She was my partner during my adventure.” “She helped you defeat the dragon? Y/N from the great Phoenix family?” his mother gasps and nudges him. With her teeth gritted, she mutters, “Why didn’t you tell me that? Had I known….” Your dad’s laugh cuts through the suffocating tension. “Such a small world indeed. But I’m glad to finally meet the man who protected my daughter. Congratulations on your engagement, son.” “It’s nice to meet you,” Yoongi’s fiancée says with a demure smile and you give a curtsy without uttering a word. “Is your eldest son here, Hyoyeon?” “Oh, Hoseok unfortunately couldn’t make it to the occasion. He’s busy studying arcane magic in a monk temple in Baldur's Gate. So I only have my youngest with me today.” “Not at all! Education is of the utmost priority for the children.” While they speak, Klarinda clears her throat. “There must be a lot to catch up on since you and Yoongi are fairly close, I heard.” “Yes, he is a great friend to me, my lady.” Yoongi’s eye twitches, but you pay no mind. You don’t speak a single word to him and while it’s terribly awkward, you seize the opportunity to leave. “I find myself a bit parched. If you'll excuse me.” You get away as quickly as you can while grabbing fistfuls of your heavy dress, feeling more strands falling out of your updo. But being out of his presence doesn’t mean you’ve escaped. You feel the weight of Yoongi’s intent gaze on you all night, from across the room to the table. You’re barely able to survive dinner and the food’s not at all charred enough to your tastes. You’re beginning to regret coming here. Even when you knew you had to see it for yourself. “Excuse me. I believe you are Lady Y/N, right?” After dinner, the divine soul sorcerer finally corners you at a moment when your guard is down, having been too focused on Yoongi. The man has silver hair neatly coiffured, but the colour isn’t from age nor is it lackluster. It matches his cape and white attire. Undoubtedly, the sorcerer has an otherworldly appearance. He’s handsome and practically radiant to that of an angel’s. And he draws attention, causing girls to turn their heads and swoon for him. You can only imagine his power and it’s no wonder your mother has insisted that you meet him. But you are far from being impressed. “You are?” “Allow me to introduce myself! I am Jinha, a favoured soul sorcerer. Son of the magnificent Concordia House here in Pegan. My ancestor was the chosen one of the Goddess Mystra.” His palm opens and he glances at your hand. But you don’t entertain the idea of him kissing your knuckles, so he retracts his arm after an awkward moment. He clears his throat. “You look absolutely ravishing. The most beautiful person at this party aside from myself of course,” he quips. You deadpan, “Thanks.” “Are you enjoying the party?” Hardly. “I am.” “Have you tried any of the crab-stuffed lobster tail yet—?” “I much prefer the wine.” You grab a glass from the tray of a stubby butler passing by and you down half of it. When you lower the glass, you find that he’s still there, smirking like an idiot. While this relationship would be textbook perfect, you hate sorcerers. You are one, have three siblings that are, spent your childhood surrounded by them. So you know best how arrogant and entitled sorcerers can be. You bet he spends his free time looking in the mirror. Plus, there’s already enough magic in you for two people. “I happened to speak to your mother earlier, Lady Y/N.” “Did you?” “She said you’ve been traveling before. I have been traveling across the lands myself, so we have quite a bit in common.” “Yes,” you answer in a monotone and then your eyes light up as you spin around on your heel to him. “Actually, she might’ve not told you but I run a business.” “A business?” “I’m a business woman. It’s gotten a bit pushed to the side since I’ve gotten home, but maybe I should start it back up again.” “What kind of business is it?” Jinha stands straighter as if to show how capable he is. “I would love to help.” “Would you?” A feigned coy smile comes across your face and you lean in to graze his shoulder. “I have quite a bit of valuables collected and a lot of ancient potions I sell. All from my travels. You’re actually very fortunate since I have one with me. Would you like to buy one? I’ll be willing to give it to you at a reduced price of ten gold pieces.” Since the first time you’ve arrived, you feel energy return to you. But then much to your dismay, the damned sorcerer apologizes— “I don’t actually have any gold on me right now.” “How about your ring.” You point downward, never breaking eye contact. “This is once in a lifetime opportunity.” Either your skills are rusty or he’s denser than a rock because your persuasions don��t get through. “I would never dare to give you such a worthless ring, Lady Y/N! With so many shiny valuables practically overflowing out of the hundreds of rooms at my enormous manor, you deserve something much more precious. Perhaps we could arrange a time when you could come visit my massive estate.” You audible sigh, not even trying to hide it. For the next ten minutes, the sorcerer bores you with speech about himself, his family, how he personally knows the Duke, how he’s expanding his manor to have two more gardens and five more fountains, and how delicious the crab-stuffed lobster tail is. You barely manage to escape, simply excusing yourself to find your sister. But as you turn the corner, away from prying eyes and ears, you grip your orb in your pocket and channel your arcane magic. You cast disguise self and at once, you take the form of the stubby butler from earlier. A foot shorter, larger, and white tailcoat with black breeches. Your empty glass even turns into a tray and you strut down the corridor with your head held high. You’re going to leave. Out the front door. Never to return. Coming here was a mistake — and confronting Yoongi isn’t something you think you have in you. You’re better suited to having no real relationships, no commitment, no attachments. Merely traveling around and scamming others is what you do best. After all, things were easier back then when you had no direction. There was less emotional turmoil. Fewer obligations. Fewer consequences. But regrets are a little too late, so in the heat of the moment, you throw away your hard-earned compromise with your mother and decide to run. Yet, before you can even think of launching yourself out the open arched window, your eyes grow wide at the man at the end of the hall. Yellow strands of hair catch your attention first. Then it’s the sleepy eyes. The tender features. Immediately, you pull your gaze away from him and stare ahead. It’s not too hard to make yourself unsuspicious when you’re disguised as a butler and Yoongi seems to pay no mind to you either. He merely walks past and you breathe a sigh of relief. But then strong arms wrap around your waist and your back meets a firm chest. The spell breaks. He saw right through you. Right through your illusion. Yoongi’s soft exhale causes goosebumps to rise all over your arms. “Thank god, it’s you. I was worried that it was really the butler.” His timbre is huskier than you remember. You stumble out of his embrace and turn around. “I apologize, sir. I wasn’t trying to create any trouble. ” “Sir?” Yoongi’s brows furrow, deep enough that it looks like it hurts. Neither of you say anything for a long moment as he stares at you and you divert your vision, preferring to admire how smooth the white pillars of the castle look. Then, his hand suddenly reaches out to graze the loose strands of hair that have fallen from your updo. It’s a gentle gesture and he quietly comments, “Your hair’s gotten longer.” But you don’t react. “How have you been?” he asks faintly. “Fine.” You keep your reply curt and short. Distant. “Congratulations on your engagement, sir.” “Y/N.” He sounds annoyed. “Let me explain—” But when you finally meet his gaze, your eyes are painfully stinging and his voice tapers off. You curse underneath your breath, having tried so hard to keep yourself together. Yet the effort to prevent humiliation is being swept down the drain, so you grab fistfuls of your dress and march away. “Y/N!” Yoongi doesn’t chase after you. You snivel violently, doing all you can to not let tears shed. You fail to watch where you’re going and you run into your older sister. “Where have you…..are you okay?” Lia looks down at you, her eyes wide at your state. You merely shake your head and her lips pout as she pulls you in. She doesn’t need to ask. “It’s okay. There, there. No one’s going to hurt you.” She’s wrong. You’ve already been hurt. // Min Yoongi is a bastard. You’ve sorely underestimated his abilities. He manipulates emotions better than you can, but you’re more so angry at yourself for misinterpreting memories. For allowing your imagination to take its course. After all, it’s easier to transform your hurt into anger than reveling in sorrow. You’ve never been the type to be passive. The morning after the banquet, there are tournaments out on the East field. You’re seated at the rows near the Duke and Duchess with the rest of your family. Taehyung is watching intently while Seokjin prefers to wave to girls seated a few seats down much to your mother’s dismay. You’re sitting beside Lia who has her parasol to shield the sun away and is fanning herself to keep sweat from her face. She hasn’t teased you about last night, not when it looked serious enough. But she hasn’t pried either, even though you know eventually she will. Curiosity has always been a fault in your family — second to recklessness. You watch as two men below fight, one with a bow and the other with a mace. You don’t recognize them, merely knowing they’re from different factions. And that they seem to be taking their hatred out on each other. “Ooh.” Taehyung sharply inhales when the Elf with the mace slashes the Half-Elf holding the bow. “That looks like it hurts.” The Half-Elf surrenders and the Halfling referee calls an end to the match. “It’s so hot out,” Lia pants and wipes her forehead with a handkerchief. “Since when did you care about sweating or not?” you ask, lolling your head to the side. She clicks her tongue. “Tch. Don’t you know how many potential suitors are here? I have to look my best. You should too.” “Can I leave?” you ask your mother, tilting yourself to her. Seokjin whirls his head around. “I second that.” “Absolutely not,” she hisses and glances over her shoulder, making sure that the Duke and Duchess aren’t listening. “We are honoured guests and it would be very rude.” “At least wait until the intermission,” your father adds with a charming smile. With that said, you sit back and try to get comfortable. From below, the Halfling referee steps up to his podium and announces through a cone, “For our next match, on the right is Jinha, divine sorcerer from the House of Concordia. And to our left is Yoongi, knight fighter from the House of Min and the Order of the Black Sun!” Your breath hitches in your throat. Immediately, Lia nudges you. “Who’s that?” Her eyes are pinpointed to the obnoxious man from last night who emerges while sweeping his hair back, his golden staff carried in his grasps. But you’re preoccupied with the other man. Someone with pastel yellow hair. Even from far away, it’s all too stark against his heavy armour. And you swear he’s looking right at you. Or maybe not. It could be for his fiancée who’s diagonal to where you are. That would make more sense. You damn yourself for being delusional again. “So that’s him?” Taehyung turns to you, asking, “The one you sent letters to?” “I never did such a thing,” you mutter. The Halfling shouts at the top of his lungs and the match begins. Yoongi grips his rapier in his hands and closes the distance. He hits twice, slamming down the blade onto Jinha with narrowed eyes and then surges forward for a critical hit. His accuracy and precision has become more refined since the last time you saw him fight. Yet, Jinha never bumbles or falls to his knees in spite of the brutality. He tightens his grip on his staff, jaw clamping down. He casts burning hands. His fingers spread and a thin sheet of flames shoots forth from his outstretched fingertips. It causes Yoongi to stumble back and the sorcerer turns his head, flashing a bright grin towards the rows, undoubtedly for you. But you aren’t fazed — not when you’re at the edge of your seat, gaze placed on Yoongi. Lia, on the other hand, is the one who’s impressed. Her jaw draws open, a soft gasp befalling her lips as she covers her mouth with a gloved hand. Across the field, your eyes lock into Yoongi’s. And then he’s moving again, blade slashing thrice. Jinha surrenders. “I should challenge you!” Taehyung suddenly breaks both you and Lia’s trance with his loud and startling voice, looking directly at Seokjin with a rectangular grin. “Do you want to fight?” “Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” A wide smile spreads into your older brother’s face. “Do you think you could take me on?” Taehyung’s already rolling up his sleeves. “You’re just going to have to wait and s—” Your mother immediately pulls him down with the force of gravity itself. Her eyes pierce into your siblings. “Absolutely not! I won’t have any of my children fighting and hurting themselves!” The Halfling referee turns. “Does anyone want to challenge the victor of this mat—” You stand. “I do!” Your mother is absolutely mortified. Your father is taken aback. Taehyung is already smiling with a murmured ‘awesome’ while both Seokjin and Lia are visibly amused. There’s little your parents can do too when the Duchess starts clapping and hollering for you to enter the field and the Duke wishes you luck, citing that he’s excited to see the true capabilities of your household. “For our next match on the right is Y/N, phoenix sorcerer from the Kim Phoenix Household. And to our left is Yoongi, knight fighter from the House of Min and the Order of the Black Sun!” From the distance, no one can hear the two of you. No one can discern the way Yoongi’s looking at you. How he’s deflated, sword drooping by his side, his form not at all ready. “I’m not going to fight you,” Yoongi declares with the furrow of his brows. You scoff. “Then you’re weak.” Gripping your spellcasting focus, your blazing red and orange swirling orb, you channel your magic and cast fireball. A bright streak flashes from your pointing finger towards him, blossoming with a low roar into an explosion of flames. But it misses when he nimbly dodges out of the range. The spectators cheer, on the edge of their seats. Yoongi, realizing that you’re not conceding, moves towards you. He grips his rapier and hits twice, bringing his blade down to slash. You sharply inhale, but keep your feet rooted into the ground and as he raises his arm for the third time, it slips. The weapon falls to the ground. “Pick it up,” you spit at him in Elvish, straightening out your spine again. Gasping, you cast Melf’s Minute Meteors and six tiny meteors manifest. They float in the air and orbit you until you send both of them towards him. It misses, exploding on the ground instead. Yoongi grabs his sword, but when he hits you, it’s weak. It barely skims you. Doesn’t even break through skin. And he drops his rapier again. “Keep going! Don’t stop!” This time, the shout isn’t coming from you but from Duchess Jacquelyn who’s crazed as she grips the banister and cackles maniacally. The Duke stares at her in discomfort at how wrapped up she is and Yoongi’s fiancée, Klarinda, shakes her head. “Mom.” You have no plans of surrendering. Even if you drop dead here. You cast fireball again and this time, the blossoming roar of the flames consumes Yoongi. You hear him cry out in agony and you send two meteors orbiting you his way. One misses, but the other one explodes on his chest. Yoongi’s teeth clenches. His knuckles turn white. But before he surges forward with his rapier, the smoke dissipates and he sees you. Tears in your eyes. The trembling of your bottom lip. The quivering of your entire frame. And no one hears when you softly curse him— “Bastard.” Yoongi drops his sword into the dirt. “I forfeit.” At once, Klarinda races down the rows, grabbing fistfuls of her dress. “Excuse me, pardon me!” She races down the field undignified, but to resume to her fiancé’s side. She searches his expression. “A-Are you alright, Yoongi? I can heal you.” She casts cure wounds and presses her palms to his pectorals over his armour. And after she does so, she looks between you and Yoongi. But by that time, you’ve long grabbed your own dress and marched off the field, leaving the two lovers behind. At the exact same moment, a ghostly presence fades from the open arched window on the fourth floor, their eyes having been pinpointed on your figure for the entirety of the match. // There’s someone watching you. You can tell with the way goosebumps raise all over the back of your arm, hairs on the back of your neck lifted, how there’s a sudden weight of someone’s stare on your shoulders. It feels like there’s someone creeping, a presence behind you. Your heel pivots. “Yoon—” But it isn’t him or any of your siblings. A translucent force tries to push itself into your body, causing your words to choke in your throat, your weakened knees to stumble back. Your lungs wither and your throat dries as the remaining air inside you wheezes out. But you resist. With all the strength left inside of you. You use your remaining energy to prevent the force from taking control, from entering and intruding. And in the next moment, it slips out and flounders in front of you. What would be a terrified shriek ends up as coughs as you gasp for air. “W-What in the holy fuck—” It’s a ghost. A chubby man in white sleeping silks, his dark hair brushing against his shoulders, but his form translucent and feet floating inches off the cobblestone hall. Your seething fire running through your blood flares. It seeps out and magically wreathes around you as your eyes glow as hot coals. You lift your finger to him, threatening to attack and he steps back. “Hold on there! Don’t be hasty!” the ghost spits in panic. “I sincerely apologize for my blunder!” “Who are you?! What were you trying to do to me?!” “My name is Leo and I just wanted to borrow your body for a bit! You see...I have some unfinished business.” There’s an extended silence. Then you lower your arm and the fire drawn back into you. Your stare is unwavering and Leo musters a smile on his thin lips, wrinkles around his eyes creasing. “In hindsight, I should have asked. I apologize for intruding.” You scoff, guard still up. “What’s your unfinished business?” “Ah, I would like to see the sunrise one last time.” The ghost turns to glance out the window. “Someone once tried to banish me away, so now I’m in a quite unstable form. I am only able to venture in this realm when it is day or night when time itself is stable. I disappear every time there is a sunset or sunrise.” Your brow lifts. “So you’ve been haunting this castle?” “Well, I can’t leave if I have unfinished business.” Leo smiles at you, eyes almost hopeful. “Whoever tried to banish you should’ve done it properly,” you deadpan. Getting rid of this ghost could be your birthday present to the Duchess. “I don’t know the banishment spell unfortunately. But my older brother does.” You start to march down the hall, but the ghost follows after you frantically. “Please don’t banish me! I beg of you! Please!” It’s an opportunity and you seize it. Your feet halt and you twist to him with a smirk growing. “Then what will you offer me?” “Offer you?” “As payment.” Your arms cross. “We can strike a fair deal. If you want to borrow my body, I’ll let you. But only if you can give me gold.” The ghost bursts out in hearty laughter that streams from his chest. “I don’t have anything to my name anymore, dear sorcerer. Certainly not gold. I’m dead!” Your face morphs into impassivity, lips drawn into a tight line. “Then I’m afraid I can’t help you.” Yet, he still follows relentlessly, floating to your left and to your side, eyes plastered onto your profile. “Oh, but can’t you offer me even half a day out of the kindness of thy own heart? Surely you must feel pity for a ghost like me that’s forced to wander this castle with no end. I will leave when my business is complete, that I can assure.” “Why don’t you go bother someone else?” “But you are special.” At that, your steps slow and he smiles again. “You know magic well and it reminds me of a certain someone.” “Who?” He hums and frowns. “I can’t seem to remember.” You scoff. After years of your business, of persuasion and deception, you can tell he’s not being entirely truthful. But before you can press on and coax the ghost’s true intentions out, there’s a noisy interruption. “Y/N!” Taehyung approaches with his mouth lopsided. “Who are you talking to?” You turn to your side, but the middle-aged ghost has vanished in thin air. “It was a ghost.” “What?” He looks at you as if you’ve gone crazy and maybe you have. “There aren’t ghosts here. Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” “I came to tell you that mom’s looking for you.” At your exaggerated sigh, Taehyung grins. “Trust me, it’s a lot worse than what you think.” He’s right. Your mother’s caught wind that a few youngsters are going boating and of course, she has to push her children into the private affair. You’re largely unamused, not a fan of being stuck in large bodies of water, even if it’s just a lake. “You have to go.” The moment she sharply enunciates the word, she pulls on the strings on your back laced bodice with all her might and you choke on air. “How else are you going to get married?” She doesn’t see you roll your eyes in the mirror. “My plan isn’t to get married.” “Well you never know what might happen. Keep an open mind.” Somehow, she thinks marriage will quell her troublesome daughters, especially you. But you can’t blame her for holding such an idea. At this point, she’s trying everything she can. “It’s time to be a little more ladylike after the whole tournament fiasco.” In the meanwhile, Lia is sitting in the corner, amused. She has a frilly, puffed up skirt of her own, a shade of light pink and on top of her head, a giant hat with flowers. She’s always been the prettier one. But as you turn to the mirror in your own blue summer dress your mother’s putting you in, you find that you aren’t half bad. Your mother knows you tend to get yourself dirty and that you don’t particularly enjoy being dressed up, so your attire is much less obnoxious and more subtle. It’s proof she’s thought about you. Eventually, your eyes drift off of your reflection to the flames dancing in the fireplace. You stare at the crimson light it gives, the way the subtle smoke that rises from it, curling towards the chimney. “There we are.” Your mother secures the last pins in your hair and smooths out your skirt. “Not too shabby, darling,” she says with a smile as if satisfied from her own work. You wonder what’s the point of trying. It’s not like anyone will be enamoured with you. The person who matters the most after all has already been taken. “You look absolutely beautiful this fine afternoon, Lady Y/N.” Your trance shatters and you look at the man blankly. “Jinha.” “Dare I say, you may be more lovely than you were last night!” He grins and you answer him in silence. You allow the noise of the surroundings to respond instead — the cawing of the birds, the sloshing of the water on the edge of the grass, your brothers laughing as the boats bump into the pier. The only mercy given to him is when Lia quite literally bumps into you and clears her throat loudly. “Ahem. Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met before.” The sorcerer’s smile widens. “Excuse me, but you are?” “I am Lia, Y/N’s older sister. But I’m not that much older. Only by two years. I’m turning twenty four.” You’ve never seen Lia flounder so much. It’s amusing to behold. “Oh, I knew Y/N had a sister, but I would’ve thought you were the younger sister,” Jinha says smoothly and her expression lights up even further. He takes her hand, placing a kiss upon her knuckles and you’re glad she’s taken his attention. Heaven knows you aren’t interested. But as you’re about to walk away, your line of sight falls to a familiar girl with dimples. Klarinda, the Duke’s daughter, is wearing a brimmed hat and her expensive silk skirt flutters with her. If she’s here then where’s— Yoongi’s staring right at you. As if he’s a predator and you’re merely the prey. Immediately, you return to Lia being overly flirtatious with Jinha. It’s bearable for a few minutes until you join your brothers who are horsing around and threatening to push one another into the lake. But out of the corner of your eye, you watch Yoongi and look away when your eyes meet. You know he’s watching you too. You try your best to stay focused on your surroundings. The strangers around were from different families and factions, civil with each other when they’re on the Duke’s grounds. At most, they send glares to their enemies. So you allow the polite, peaceful chatter to engulf you before everyone slowly gets onto the boats to row out and enjoy the lake. “Finally!” Taehyung suddenly twists around, holding a rope in hand. “I got it untied!” Jin facepalms himself. “You idiot! You’re supposed to untie the rope after everyone’s gotten in!” “What?” “Not to worry!” Jinha announces with a grin and nimbly hops inside the boat before it drifts too far off the pier. He holds out his hand for Lia and she gladly takes it with a giggle, being guided in. You watch at a loss for words as the boat gets farther and farther. Still, the divine sorcerer boldly holds out his hand for you. “Lady Y/N!” You hesitate. The boat is already full with four people and you’re not sure if it’s worth jumping in and potentially getting pulled into the lake. But suddenly, before you can make a decision, your waist is pulled back by strong arms. “It’s okay. She can come with me. There’s one left.” “Yoongi!” your gasp is sharp and you look up at him. But he remains unfazed. Your siblings have their brows raised. But by then, they’ve already drifted off and Taehyung wordlessly rows away. You don’t have time to react or object — not when Yoongi’s grabbed your hand and you stumble after him. The last rowboat rocks back and forth violently and you drop into a seated position on the seat before you can fall in. It takes three seconds. The rope is untied and Yoongi rows away from the pier. You notice his fiancée meters away in her own boat, sitting closely with girls chatting and giggling together. Yet, she pays no mind to her friends. Instead, she stares at the two of you. “Shouldn’t you be with her?” Yoongi follows your line of sight and mumbles, “It’s fine.” You’re stuck with him. Yoongi rows where no one else does and you watch the water cascade back. The soft sloshing fills the background as it gets quiet and much too uncomfortable. Yoongi’s husky timbre breaks the tension. “How have you been?” “Well, I’ve just been trapped in my house ever since I’ve returned, but things are great.” Your voice drips of venomous sarcasm, but when you lift your eyes, his gaze locks into yours. The blonde man wears a somber expression, his irises darkening and you sigh, speaking at a quieter volume. “I actually worked out a deal with my parents. As long as I behave and don’t tarnish my family name, I can do as I please. There’s more freedom than before. But it’s a work in progress full of compromise. If I want to leave, I’ll have to write a plan so they know where I’m headed. I just haven’t decided what I want to do next.” Your muttering gets quiet and your face hardens. “Obviously, you’re doing well.” Yoongi stops rowing. He allows the boat to drift. “The engagement was set up by my mother.” “Oh please, Yoongi.” Your eyes roll and you cross your arms, ready for his excuses that you knew were coming. “It was arranged. For all I know, I haven’t proposed to anyone yet.” “That doesn’t change that fact that you’re an engaged man!” Your teeth grit. “It doesn’t change the fact that you’re going to go off with her and have a bunch of kids and a big family together, so congratu-fucking-lations.” It’s unbearable. There’s nowhere you can run. He’s truly trapped you here to confront one another. “And when were you planning to tell me? All those letters and you didn’t mention it once!” Your eyes sting painfully as your vision floods, overwhelmed with emotion. You feel blindsighted. “I thought I wouldn’t have to tell you at all. I was going to take care of it. I didn’t know you were going to be here.” “You really think it’s easy to call off an engagement with the Duke’s daughter?!” you spit and he takes your onslaught of anger. The pain is visible on your visage. “If I didn’t come, were you going to tell me when you got to the altar? Or after you got back from the honeymoon? I...I feel like an idiot.” “I’m sorry.” Staggering exhales pull from your lungs after your tangent and silence fills the large distance between the pair of you. Yet, Yoongi’s gaze is too tender for you to bear. “My biggest regret is not kissing you that night,” he murmurs. “Or rather, not asking you to come with me.” “It’s too late.” “It isn’t.” “What are you going to do, Yoongi?” “I’m going to call it off.” “How?” “I’ll try.” His voice is low, eyes half-lidded. “Then what?” you spit in exasperation. “What reason would you have to call it off? It’s a great arrangement! A beneficial marri—” “I want to marry you.” The inside of your chest stutters. Your breath catches in your throat. Warmth rises to your face and heats your cheeks like a furnace. Yoongi isn’t a straightforward man, blunt but never honest with his feelings. That trait has bred so many uncertainties within you. But in this moment, you feel his sincerity. You can see it, how hard he’s tried to reach you, to tell you his intentions. It reminds you of that night in Rutherglen. The festival and fireworks, when you were so close to one another, when you would’ve gone anywhere with him. “You’re an idiot, Min Yoongi.” You stand. “I don’t feel like talking to idiots.” You pull your orb from your pocket and cast shape water. The waves rise and it splashes him. Yoongi’s yellow hair is soaked along with the entire side of his head. His visage washes over into impassivity, akin to a glare. But you don’t dwell, palms laying flat in the air as you manipulate the water and push the boat back to shore. The minute you get to the pier, you pull yourself up. “I learnt more spells other than fire magic since our fight with the Remorhaz,” you add, “if you even remember that.” You know it’s unfair, but you rush away before he can discern how in a few words, he’s given you hope. The very hope that you know can easily break your heart again. // It’s been less than two full days, but it feels like an eternity. You’re slouched over an open arched window, elbow propped on the stone with your chin rested in your hand. The valleys of Pegan are out in the distance behind the fogged clouds, countless adventures and creatures out there for you to discover and explore. But you find yourself rooted in your place, a sense of uneasiness and yearning preventing you from leaving. At sounds of quacking, your eyes drift from the scenery to the first floor. By the staircase is a white duck with an orange beak trotting along with a row of pale yellow, baby ducklings behind her. They follow their mother religiously, teetering from side to side, trying not to get too curious of the world around them and a smile graces your lips. “Are ducklings your favourite animal, sorcerer?” Your spine straightens in shock and the wandering ghost, Leo, grins at you. Your hand presses to your chest as you steady your breath. “Are you trying to scare me to death?!” “Of course not! That would be defeating the purpose. I can’t borrow your body if you’re dead like I am,” he chortles, arms behind his back as he floats from your right side to your left. “I wanted to merely apologize for this morning. I didn’t mean to be so invasive or startle you.” You glare at him, not yet accepting his apology. He continues nonetheless— “Also, I want you to help me.” You snort unattractively, having known he had other purposes in approaching you again. “Unless you agree to my deal, the answer is no.” “Please,” Leo pleads. “I can’t move on.” You push yourself off the wall and walk away. He follows after you, even after you quicken your steps. “Why can’t you possess someone else’s body and watch your stupid sunrise?” “That is not my greatest desire.” The ghost comes in front of you and you halt in fear of him entering your body. “I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely truthful to you, dear sorcerer.” Your brow lifts, waiting patiently and Leo swallows hard. “I await another lost soul and I wish to depart this world together with them. I can’t move on without them.” Your frustration makes your voice shrill. “It’s not only you who has problems, alright? I can’t even fix mine! What makes me think I can fix yours?!” As your annoyance boils over, you start running. It’s useless to try to elude a ghost who can’t get tired, but you try anyway. “Sorcerer!” And without looking, you turn the corner and collide with another body. “Woah!” Jin steadies you before the two of you can topple over. “Why are you not looking at where you’re going?” Lia is with him and regards you with wide eyes. “Are you okay?” You glance over your shoulder. The ghost never comes. “It’s nothing,” you mutter in a sigh. “Mom’s looking for you again.” “What is it this time?” The words come out in a tired exhale. Your older brother shrugs. “Might have to do with tonight’s dinner.” “Hey, Y/N.” Suddenly, Lia takes your hands. “Tell me honestly, do you like Jinha?” “No.” You warily eye her, not sure where she’s going with this. The corner of Jin’s mouth curls. “Why? You like him?” “Well, if she doesn’t like him, she should give him to me,” Lia mumbles, then quickly turns to you. “Of course, if you do, then by all means, our sisterhood is my top priority….” You pull your hand away from her. “I don’t like him, Lia. But he’s not mine to give away either. You can do whatever you want.” Your sister’s eyes twinkle with a kind of enthusiasm that makes you scoff with a smile. Jin’s mouth is quirked as well, but his curiosity has been piqued and he doesn’t hesitate to ask— “It’s because of him, isn’t it? He’s the reason you’re not interested. The youngest son of the Min faction. What was his name?” “Yoongi.” If possible, Lia’s features light up further and she steps forward, cornering you. “What happened on that boat ride, Y/N? It seemed like you were having a really intense talk.” “It was nothing,” you murmur. “He practically pulled you into the boat with him. I mean, did his fiancée mind?” In the midst of the interrogation, Jin shifts to you, eyes unwavering. “You started sending him letters the minute you got back, but now he’s engaged and he happens to pull you aside like that— What really happened on your adventure together?” Millpass, Bogsburrough, Rutherglen. The memories seep back into you. The fireworks and festival, the night at the roadside tavern, fighting together at the underground market. The way he rushed in front of you in the face of the white dragon, how the two of you sat on the hill and watched the sunset together. It’s overwhelming. “Who is he to you?” “I said nothing!” you lie and push past them, stomping in the other direction to get away from your overbearing siblings. “Hey!” Lia shouts after you. “Mom’s still calling you!” You ignore them, turning the corner then down the staircase lest the wandering ghost plagues you again or you run into Taehyung, your mother or father. For good measure, you depart outside without any direction but merely feeling the soft grass underneath your boots. You’re about to turn yourself invisible for a moment of peace or disguise yourself as a maid to escape, but with your unfortunate luck that’s been bestowed to you since you arrived, you run into dimples before you get the chance. A petite figure with spiral curls and an evening dress of modesty. Her brown eyes sparkle as your eyes lock with one another’s. With half a mind and all the etiquette training that had been slammed into you at childhood, you curtsy. “Hello.” “Good evening.” Klarinda smiles at you without a trace of malice. “What a coincidence meeting you here. I was about to head to my greenhouse.” “Yes.” You stiffly nod. “If you’ll excuse me…” But before you can march off, she twirls around. “Would you like to join me?” It’s an open space. The gardens seem to stretch on for miles, plant walls that border the perimeter. In the center of it all is a structure made of glass. The ceilings are high to let in sunlight and there are rows and benches of potted plants and flowers. “Some of these I grow simply because they’re beautiful. But a lot of these herbs have medicinal purposes.” “You’re a cleric, aren’t you, my lady?” “I am, like my mother. And you don’t have to address me by such formal titles. A friend of Yoongi’s is a friend of mine.” The girl smiles. “Klarinda is fine.” You nod and she quietly hums a song as she waters flowers. You follow after her until a particular plant catches your eye — verdant leafs, yellow petals and plump berries. “It’s a sunberry plant,” Klarinda says when she notices your curiosity. “Would you like to try one?” The Duke’s daughter happily plucks one off and holds it out in front of you. The second your teeth bites down, the sweetness explodes into your cheek. She giggles at your reaction. “Good, right? My dad likes to come in here and eat them when they’re in season, so they’re always gone.” “Good enough to sell. You should cast a protection or barrier spell on them.” “I should.” She grins, dimples dotted on both sides of her face. “But between you and me, I actually don't mind so much. It makes me happy that he enjoys something from my garden, even if he has to sneak in.” Most of your first impressions aren’t wrong. Within minutes of conversation, you can figure out if a customer is going to chase you down and try to fight you or might come back at a latter time to buy more. And you can tell her innocence isn’t a feigned facade. The Marquise is endearing enough that you like her for it. For a moment, you almost feel envious of Yoongi. But they’re undoubtedly a good match. A stoic, strong knight capable of shielding away a virtuous maiden who knows nothing of the world, but is kind and generous to a fault. It’s a portrait perfect couple. “This place is really beautiful.” You force yourself away from the thoughts that form a lump in your throat. “Thank you. It can get lonely though.” You hum, supposing a vast yet empty estate would do that to someone. “Don’t people from Pegan visit often?” “They do. They mostly arrive for business. I used to play with all kinds of children from the different factions, especially during holidays. But they can be……” “A bit much?” Klarinda laughs. “Yes! Some might say crazy or competitive, but much is a good word too.” You grin. “I’ve barely gotten to know how the factions work, but I can already tell. Some of them are so conceited.” Her eyes sparkle. “Like Jinha?” “Yes!” She giggles, her dimples creased deeper and her teeth shown in the light. Like this, she’s less of a proper and demure lady, niece to the king, and more like a girl you would’ve known on your travels. “He can be quite a gentleman, but he has an arrogant nature.” “My sister likes him, but I’m not sure why. Personally, I think she could do better. Then again, they wouldn't be bad together.” With the divine sorcerer’s willing-to-please nature and Lia’s incessant demands and high maintenance personality, it might work out better than intended. “I’m envious that you have so many siblings,” Klarinda says with a tender smile and you’re caught in surprise. You didn’t know it was possible she could be envious of you when you were envious of her in so many ways. “I’m an only child, so I’ve often wondered what it would’ve been like to have an older brother or younger sister. There’s nothing that beats family after all.” “You’re not missing out on much, trust me. Siblings can be quite annoying.” She laughs again. “Still, I think it would’ve been nice to belong to a bigger family.” A comfortable silence simmers as you follow after her and she moves to prune a plant. You break the quiet. “Actually, I was away from my family for quite a while. For a number of years.” “I thought you went adventuring for one year?” You shake your head. “They told everyone I went to go study arcane magic, but it isn’t true. I ran away and was gone for three.” Klarinda looks at you with a gentle expression, recognizing your solemnity. “What matters is that you’re here with them now.” You nod. “I don’t regret coming home. I’m glad I didn’t have to return when there was a funeral of my parents.” “Even if they’re overbearing?” she asks with a tiny smile. “Even if they’re overbearing,” you confirm. “You met Yoongi during your travels, right?” Immediately, you freeze, but she focuses on her plant, only stealing a simple glance at you. “He told me a lot about you from day one.” “Is that so?” “The engagement was a surprise to the both of us,” she murmurs, placing her shears down. “It happened less than a month ago. Suddenly my mother sat me down and told me about the arrangement. It was strange considering she had never spoken to me about it before and she’s never been one to make such an agreement. Anyway, a few minutes after I met Yoongi, he spoke about you. Rather fondly.” “Really?” You plaster on a polite smile. “Well, I’m flattered. He’s a great friend.” “Is he sincerely a friend to you?” Klarinda asks. Her gaze is piercing and you raise your guard. She’s going to threaten you — you know it. But you weren’t the one who made the decision and you don’t want any part of it. It doesn’t involve you. It never will. Having learnt from the best, your face becomes blank. “I am very happy that he’s finally engaged. He’s always been very popular, so settling down just seems right for him.” At once, the cleric grips her necklace. Against your will, she casts an enchantment spell and a fifteen foot radius sphere sweeps out from her. It keeps you inside. A zone of truth that prevents lies. “I’m sorry. But I need to know.” She looks at you solemnly. “Do you like Yoongi?” You cuss in Elvish underneath your breath. You can’t be deceptive, but you can still be evasive in your responses as long as it remains within the boundaries of the truth. “It’s not like I dislike him.” “Please be honest with me.” She searches your expression earnestly, pleading with you. Being with Yoongi has made you soft. You’re used to protecting your vulnerabilities until the end, but the truth spills from you as if it’s been dying to be said— “I’m in love with him.” The spell dissipates. Klarinda smiles. “Then I’ll call off the engagement.” “What?” “They can’t force me to do anything and I’d rather keep two great friends than having an unwilling husband for the rest of my life.” Her dimples crease. “I wouldn’t want that for him, myself or you.” “Wait! J-Just because I feel a certain way doesn’t mean he does or even that the engagement should be called off! This...this is something you should talk about with him, not me.” Her smile becomes sweeter. “Isn’t it obvious?” You blink at her. “Yoongi loves you too. What’s more that needs to be said?” The girl is so certain as if the answer has never been clearer. She’s a hopeless romantic. Utterly so. Someone who believes that love prevails above all and suddenly, you want to give into that urge as well. But before either of you can move, there’s a rumble beneath your feet. The ground itself tilts. Klarinda catches herself on the bench and you find your own balance. The pair of you tear your eyes away from one another to the roaring noise. The castle is shaking in its foundation. She notices the smoke that’s rising in the air. “Is...that fire?” Your eyes widen and you rush over, instincts screaming. The girl trails behind you and you pull yourself inside. There’s fire eating at the walls and you take your orb out, focusing your magic to snuff out the flames. To the best of your abilities, you extinguish it. Klarinda stays with you, using her own magic to try to aid you. “Sorcerer!” In the midst of the pandemonium, a familiar voice and form comes from the walls. Leo, the ghost, floats to your side. “I need your help. You must come with me. Please!” Klarinda’s eyes widen. But you don’t notice. “Don’t you see what’s going on?! I can’t help you!” The ghost vanishes. There is smoke filling the halls, flooding the corridors and you cover your mouth with the sleeve of your dress, coughing into it. Members from different factions are rushing past with their own weapons and shields, swords gripped or magic at their fingertips. There’s shouting above the chaos, but you don’t know what’s going on. Not until you enter the main room and find your mother and Taehyung. “Mom!” There’s a dracolich in the center of the circular room, towering high enough to graze the dome ceiling. It’s a monster — once a dragon until it became undead. Now what’s left of it is bones instead of flesh and blood, open eye sockets and decayed wings. But instead of being buried underneath the ground or burnt to ash, it’s come back to life, roaring and whipping its tail to a group of terrified, screaming wizards. There are several death knights as well. Decayed bodies with rotting flesh and pinpoints of light in place of eyes. They’re undead warriors who have revived, having once been rangers and barbarians until they fell. And one of them lunges at Taehyung until your mother casts finger of death, causing it searing pain and making it drop to its knees. Three rays of fire shoot past her, firing onto the death knight. She turns her head. “Y/N!” “Where’s Jin and Lia?” “They went to go find your father. He’s with the Duke!” Another death knight comes running forward with an axe and Taehyung screams before splashing a bubble of acid on it. A beat later, your mother’s grasp on her wand tightens and she sends a frigid beam of blue-white light streak on the monster. A coldness sweeps through the room and you follow up with casting firebolt. The monster has slowed down, barely staggering and obviously wounded. Yet, it tries to swing and misses Taehyung by a long shot. “Not bad,” you comment. “Hey, I’ve improved a lot since the last time you saw me fight!” A rectangular grin is plastered on Taehyung’s face. But the conversation is cut short by the dragonlich’s tail. He jumps away before he’s attacked and joins the other side where a paladin is fighting another monster. “Go!” Your mother shouts. “It’s too dangerous!” “I’m not leaving!” You don’t know where these undead creatures came from, how they even came alive again, or who revived them. There’s no time to think and in the midst of the anarchy, you’re trapped. Sheer seconds as you realize you’re about to be struck, but you’re unable to do anything. You merely brace for the impact. But the monster drops dead in front of you. Yoongi pulls his rapier out in one smooth tug, the silver blade slicing through the air. You gasp for air and he immediately engulfs you in an embrace. The man with the light blonde strands of hair holds you tight as your breath steadies and you savour his warmth. There are no words spoken, nothing that needs to be said that can’t be translated through his desperate yet affectionate gesture. “Sorcerer.” The moment can’t last long when you’re interrupted by the ghost. It floats to you and Yoongi is on guard, lifting the tip of his weapon. But you place a hand on his arm and he eases. “Listen to me.” You’re calm enough to finally pay attention, to hopefully be given answers. And answers are what he offers you. “There is a lich where the old castle resides. You must find the phylactery and destroy it before things become worse.” “A lich?!” Liches are among the worst creatures of humanity — undead spellcasters of great power. They’re creatures who traded in their souls for a chance to exist forever. There are untold treachery and blasphemies they’ve done just to become what they are. But they’re given immortality unless someone destroys their phylactery, an object that stores their life essences. Before you can ask any more questions, the ghost dissipates in thin air. Klarinda, who noticed the transparent form, runs to you. She grabs your hands and searches your expression. “What did the ghost say?!” “T-There’s a lich in the old castle!” “I know where that is!” The Dragonlich roars deafeningly as a warlock casts hold monster and it becomes paralyzed. At the same time, Yoongi pierces a death knight that was barreling towards you. You turn to your mother who gives a glance and she doesn’t even take a moment of hesitation. “Go!” She trusts your decisions — her gaze tells you that. Klarinda nods and Yoongi takes your hand. The two of you follow after her as she twists through the halls. “How did you come in contact with that ghost, Y/N?” “I don’t know. He was the one who approached me after the tournament and he’s been bothering me since yesterday.” Klarinda turns down the hall. “Do you know who that ghost is?” “He told me his name is Leo.” “He’s King Lionel,” she says and your brows raise. Yoongi doesn’t appear surprised either. He wears a solemn expression, having recognized him as well. “There was a section of his life in my history textbook of Pegan. This place used to be his castle.” You’re baffled, completely rendered speechless. She continues, “There was a rebellion a thousand years ago. This whole place burnt down, but it was rebuilt during my grandfather’s generation.” “Were there ever mentions of a lich? Or someone who traded their soul?” Yoongi shakes his head. “No.” “He never had a wife. But there were rumours that he had a mistress. A wizard from far away lands.” Your eyes meet Klarinda’s. “His kingdom was taken down before they could get married.” “But why now?” You’re running out of breath as she climbs a staircase. “If this...mistress traded in her soul a thousand years ago, why is she trying to revive dragons and knights now?” “It isn’t just now,” Klarinda murmurs, her brows drawn into a tight furrow and jaw clenched. “Members of the royal family in Pegan have gone missing for generations. They’ve always swept it under the carpet and kept it a secret, but I think I’m about to find out the reason.” The three of you turn another corner, but come to a grinding halt when you see a flailing lady. “Mother!” Duchess Jacquelyn is in the middle of the corridor, wearing a bountiful and extravagant gown while her arms are full of jewelry boxes, dangling strings of pearls and diamonds. One string slips from the pile and rolls on the cobblestone to your friend’s feet. “D-Darling! What a surprise! What’s going on? The noise has been startling me!” Klarinda steps forward. “What are you doing?” “T-This?! Nothing! I was just re-organizing! Yes. Reorganizing.” “That’s grandmother’s ring.” She points, eyes narrowed in. “You’ve never brought it out since her funeral.” “Well...sometimes change is needed, sweetheart.” They stare at one another while you exchange looks with Yoongi. There is a pregnant silence, tangible tension that’s suffocating. Then you notice how Duchess Jacquelyn slips her hand to her side and something glistens in your eyes, blinding your vision. Your mouth draws open. “You’re not my mother!” — “Watch out!” The dagger strikes her. Klarinda cries as the back of her right hand is sliced. Yet she grabs the opportunity and grips her necklace, her spellcasting object. The girl’s left hand comes out and she holds her mother’s double by the wrist, casting inflict wound. The creature screams horrifically in sheer agony. “What did you do to her?! Where is she?!” You grip your orb, casting scorching ray. One beam of fire hits it and it screeches. A moment later, Yoongi lifts his rapier and strikes it twice, causing the monster to stumble onto its back. Its weapon clacks out of reach. Klarinda grabs the dagger and holds the creature to the floor. She presses the blade to its throat. All traces of her kindness and mercy have dissipated in the face of her rage. “Where is she?!” “O-Okay! Okay! I surrender!” It puts up its hands and shifts. The form of the creature is no longer the beautiful, middle-aged Duchess but a tall, elven gray-skinned humanoid. Its face is formless and eyes are pale and bulging. Its voice croaks, “I’m a doppelganger! I didn’t have a choice! The lich made me do it!” “My mother!” Klarinda shrieks and you lower yourself, squeezing her shoulder and she eases. Tears have filled her eyes, but when she glances at you, she’s able to compose herself. “She’s dead. Her soul’s been consumed.” Klarinda breaks down into sobs. You wrap an arm around her and she lets up on the doppelganger, but Yoongi makes sure to keep his foot down on its shoulder. “We have to get it.” She wipes at her tears, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “We have to kill that lich, Y/N!” “We will,” you promise her. “We will.” Seconds later, you see Jinha come forward and he rushes over trying to get a grasp of the situation. “Can you take care of this?” you ask and he easily agrees. “O-Of course, lady Y/N.” He binds up the doppelganger and Klarinda casts cure wounds on herself, healing her gash. She takes your hand afterwards and you hold it. Yet, even as her frame shakes, there’s determination in her steps. A type of anger that has solidified her resolve and given her courage. “This is the passageway.” She pushes open a small stone door to reveal a crawl space after Yoongi helped push a bookshelf to the side in the corner of the library. “I found it as a kid, but I never went in too far. The servants found me and they tried to cover it up.” The three of you crawl through before it opens up and Yoongi helps you down onto the landing. There is consuming darkness until Klarinda casts light onto the dagger she has and you ignite a flame to dance into your hand. The empty void is collected with cobwebs, spiders and eyes of bats staring back at you, quietly observing your forms. Each of your steps echo and a cloud of dust emerges. You move slowly, scared that the steps of the staircase winding downwards will collapse under your weight. But you’re able to look around, at the crumbling paintings, the fragmented pillar pieces, the stone walls with scorched markings, and the ancient statues long lost and eaten by time itself. Never would you have guessed that the basement of the castle held all of this. That they had rebuilt themselves on top of what was once the castle of the entire kingdom of Pegan. You can imagine what this would’ve been like a thousand years ago. Children running with servants scolding them, advisors walking by King Lionel’s side, his lover waiting for him. Then you envision the screams, the devouring fire. You can see the charred marks along the banister. You can almost hear it, but you quickly shake it off before you can become frightened. “Destroying the phylactery is the only way we can get rid of the lich without it coming back, but how will we know where it is or what it is?” It could be any object in any room. You turn with the flickering fire in your palm, looking all around you. It’s endless. “If that monster is down here, there has to be a reason,” Yoongi offers, standing by your side. “It could’ve moved anywhere but it might be protecting its phylactery.” “I know where it is.” There’s a low voice and a familiar ghost descends in front of you with a saddened smile. “Your highness.” Klarinda bows her head. But you remain still, even after knowing his identity. King Lionel looks at you with his brows knitted together. “I am sorry for deceiving you, dear sorcerer. Or rather, holding the truth from you. I feared you would have denied my request had I been forthright about it. In hindsight, I could’ve prevented the devastation that has wrecked this place. Had I only known….” “Do you know where the lich is? Or where the phylactery is?” “It is in the last place where I perished.” The King smiles. “In our chambers.” He turns, floating away and Klarinda follows. You and Yoongi trail behind her and when you feel the back of his hand grazing against yours, you grasp it. Yoongi looks at you and you release your held sigh. “Why is it that we always find ourselves in adventures like these?” “You mean these life or death scenarios?” The corner of his mouth curls and he squeezes your hand. “We always manage. But you should’ve told me that you were talking to a ghost.” “I don’t think we were on speaking terms until recently, duckling.” Yoongi grins at the nostalgic nickname, the one you used to start each letter, and your own smile is tinged with sadness. You don’t know if either of you will live. If the pair of you have it in you to be an actual hero and defeat the greatest monster. And as these doubts fill you, so do the regrets that you harbour for not hearing him out, for not trusting in him. With such little time, you wonder if this is it. If this will be your last opportunity. Your steps slow. “Yoongi. I—” “How dare you enter my lair?!” There’s a snarling voice resounding above and instantly, the ghost of King Lionel vanishes. Klarinda turns behind her and looks at you and Yoongi. The hall has ended with a crumbling stone door in front of her. “Leave!” The voice shrieks deafeningly into multiple layers. “Leave!” You nod at her and she pushes the door open. The dust billows out, sweeping in front of your forms. The fire in your hand smothers and the strong gust of wind pulls through your hair. You can’t open your eyes, so you shield yourself away. Yoongi feels his grasp on you loosen. Your touch fades away from him. He shouts after you until his throat is raw, but it’s to no avail. He scrambles blindly until he’s able to open his eyes and finds himself in an empty void of darkness. “I know your greatest fear.” There’s a whisper in his ear and he jolts, turning around while drawing his rapier. But there’s nothing there, not even a shapeless figure. “Min Yoongi. I have read your thoughts.” “I have read your mind,” a second voice crackles to his left. The right snicker. “Your greatest fear is betrayal of your loved one.” “Whether that would be no longer sharing your affections.” “Or choosing another person to be with.” “Get out of my head,” he commands from deep within his stomach, his impassivity ruined by the furrow of his brows. But Yoongi feels a cold breath on the nape of his neck. “A lick of poison from her would destroy you for good.” Fire. You see it in front of you as you’re collapsed on the floor. The orange and rose glow are illuminated on your face. You’re sitting so close it seems to lick at your cheeks. Yet you’re brought into a lull as you listen to the crackle and pop, as you allow the smoke to fill your senses. You’re brought in a trance as you watch the fire burn a house down, a quaint home with a picket white fence and large windows with pink curtains. “Your greatest strength is your greatest fear.” There’s a murmur in your ear. It’s unrecognizable. “I know,” you mumble. “You are afraid of one day no longer being able to control the flames that seethes to be unleashed.” “But repress it no longer, dear,” the left voice seductively whispers, hissing softly. “Worry no longer.” “Your magic is incredible and oozes from you.” — “Give into it.” — “Allow it freedom.” “What….about...Yoongi?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from the fire into the darkness. You stand back on your feet, finding balance again. “No.” There’s a sharp inhale to your right. “Leave him.” You scoff automatically, the idea so utterly ridiculous that it’s unfathomable. “I’m not going to do that. I finally found someone that doesn’t find me annoying….” “You could be powerful.” The more it talks, the more you’re coming to your senses. “I already am powerful!” You twist around, dispelling away the hallucination of the burning house with the flicker of your hand. “And I already know how to control my powers! You think I’m some kind of amateur sorcerer?! It doesn’t control me. I control it!” Again, you ignite a fire in your hand and narrow your eyes. In the distance, you catch strands of pale yellow. And you run after him. The voices scream for you to stop, but you fight against the magic that threatens to pull you back. The moment you smother out the flame, you leap at Yoongi. Your arms are thrown around him in an embrace and immediately, his hands wrap around you. Yoongi stumbles back with an infectious smile expanding into his cheeks. The spell dissipates and you find yourself back in the underground remains of the ancient castle. “Don’t let go of my hand again, brat.” “I’m sorry,” you mumble against his neck. Suddenly, there’s a piercing scream that ricochets through the air — one belonging to only Klarinda. You pull away from Yoongi, eyes locked into one another and he sets you down. Your fingers interlace and you follow the sound, turning down the hall once more and entering through the large double-doors to the decaying chambers. A frame of a bed sits in the wide expanse of the room, grayed cloth ripped and drifting over the canopy. Ash and soot sits in a layer on the floorboards, the wardrobe and vanity along the back wall destroyed. There’s a large painting on the wall, but the faces of the couple have been torn and scratched by bleeding fingernails. Your eyes sweep the room within seconds before landing on Klarinda who’s been blighted. She’s fallen over and you come to cover her with your body as you look upon the lich. It’s angular and skeletal with withering flesh stretched tightly across visible bones, dressed in regal finery, reddened drapes that once was vibrant. Yoongi’s knuckles turn white at his grip and he runs towards the creature. He misses, but hits on his second try, slashing it across. He surges forward, yet it does little to the lich that still stands. “Foolish children,” she hisses and grips the blade of Yoongi’s rapier, rendering him immobile. “You aren’t heroes. Your recklessness will bring forth your death. I will not spare you from the choices you have made.” You cast immolation and flames wreathe the lich. She lets go of Yoongi’s weapon and the light of your magic is so bright that you’re forced to look away. At the same time, Klarinda cures her wounds and slowly comes to her feet again. “Do you really think you could defeat me?!” The lich’s snarling voice booms across the room. Pinpoints of crimson light burn in the empty sockets of where her eyes were before they rotted away. She glides forward as if floating on water and a sphere of poisonous gas billows to all corners of the room. “Yoongi!” You cover your mouth with your hand and the yellow-green fog obscures your view. You hear the clanking of metal where he hits the lich and you feel your vision blurring from the poison. But as you narrow your eyes, you’re able to make out the faint shadow of the lich’s form. And a thin green ray springs from your pointing finger in the spell disintegrate, allowing you to hear it’s deafening shriek. You give permission for your phoenix magic to unleash and you’re magically twined in swirling fire, eyes glowing as hot coals. Your flesh sheds bright light into the fog. Behind you, Klarinda murmurs words of restoration and you feel yourself being healed from the poison. The lich is toying with you. You know it. The moment you stepped into here, it could’ve immediately killed any of you with a single word, but instead, it chose to manifest those hallucinations and slowly suffocate the three of you in this poison. The lich glides towards you, but is stopped by Yoongi. Before you can pull him out of the way, she lifts her finger, and he drops to his knees. He screams from the sheer agony that courses up his body. “Yoongi!” The lich casts detect thoughts on him, probing his brain, tearing apart bits and pieces of it. It hums and muses, “How selfless yet foolish. Even in this much pain, you are still thinking about how much you love her.” Yoongi grits his teeth, bumbling upwards to his feet and strikes the monster thrice. The force is enough that she staggers back and tense silence fills the air. You steal the opportunity and come forward next to Yoongi. Your palms press towards the monster to cast fireball, but the roar of the flames never comes. The lich has counterspelled it. Klarinda cries and runs forward with her dagger. “You killed my mother!” “And her soul was delicious to consume,” she snarls and grabs her blade, tossing it aside as if it were a toy. “Yours will be too!” Klarinda sobs as something catches the corner eye. But there’s no chance — not when the lich takes your spell of choice and magic blooms out of her thin fingertips. Fire blossoms from her flesh, thundering out in the force of her rage. You immediately turn to hug Yoongi, arms embracing his body to protect him. But when his hands reach to the back of your neck and he presses your face to his shoulder, you’re not sure who’s protecting who. Yet, the fire never reaches you. Even when it rumbles through the room and the ruins of the ancient castle. Even when the walls begin to crack further and fragments of the ceiling dust down. Even when scorching flames has filled every corner of the space. You raise your head, finding that the ghost of King Lionel is facing the lich. One of his last fragments of magic has been channeled into an aura of life spell, shielding the three of you away. “Enough, Karlis,” he calls out to her softly. “You have done enough harm.” “I thought I banished you!” she snarls out, crouched over as the pinpoints of red lights of her eyes glare at him. “I won’t leave without you.” “Why?!” The voice is jarring to your ears. “The girl you knew is long gone!” Neither of them notice Klarinda who staggers upwards towards the vanity in the corner, struggling to grab her dagger along the way. “Even so, I won’t leave her behind again. I won’t leave you behind. So come with me, Karlis. Leave your anger behind and come with me.” His arm outstretched but the monster cackles horrifically. “Foolish, man! I will not stop until I have destroyed the bloodline that ruined us.” “No one ruined us. It was I who ruled poorly, and you who chose to give up your soul and walk down this path by your lonesome in the wake of your grief. Karlis.” “Never!” she screeches and a gust of wind pushes him away. Then the lich screeches in torment. Klarinda digs the dagger’s blade into the heart shaped necklace on the vanity — the phylactery that holds the life force of the lich. She plunges the weapon several times until her arm strains, until the dagger’s curved against the vanity’s surface, until it slips from her trembling hand and she tosses it aside in the midst of tears. The lich’s bones collide against the floor. Her screams are audible around the room and the red clothing flutters in the air as it drops. You look away with Yoongi, but King Lionel gazes at her until the last moment. Gone. After centuries of terrorizing Pegan’s royal family, just like that. // The sunbeams pierce the sky in pastel shades, painting the clouds in watercolour hues. It breaks away the darkness of the night and the stars of the horizon. Klarinda is silent as she looks onward from the open arched window with her arms behind her back. But you know it’s not her. She’s been possessed by King Lionel, having granted his wish and allowed him to borrow her body. “My last duties as a King have been complete,” he murmurs in her voice. “My business is finished now that I know she hasn’t been left behind.” He turns to you and Yoongi with a dimpled smile. “Thank you. Sorcerer. Knight. Without your help, I wouldn’t have been able to free her from her own treachery.” “It’s not like you gave us much of a choice,” you mumble half-heartedly and he chuckles. “I guess I didn’t. I’m also sorry I’m not able to give you gold or any semblance of a reward when you have bestowed to me such a great favour.” “Having our lives is enough,” Yoongi says, bowing his head and you scoff lightly. The ghosts’ eyes twinkle as he looks at him and then to you. “You really do remind me of her,” he says. “But more strong-willed and self-assured. Something she had greatly missed and led her to her demise.” A sigh releases from him. “The world is blessed to have such great heroes.” The pair of you exchange expressions. “I’m not so sure about that….” You still don’t feel like heroes — he was the one who protected you and Klarinda was the one who destroyed the phylactery. Both you and Yoongi barely did anything other than waltz in there without a plan. In retrospect, that was probably a bad idea but there wasn’t really enough time to figure out battle tactics. Or at least that’s the excuse you’re going to hang onto. The ghost gives an all-knowing smile and turns to the horizon. “My time is here. Thank you for your help, heroes.” Within three seconds, he dissipated from her. Klarinda stumbles and is steadied by Yoongi. She smiles, thanking him before gazing at the pair of you. Two dimples are marked in each corner of her cheeks.

The chaos has come and gone. The moment the lich’s life source was destroyed, the monsters no longer swarmed and spawned on the grounds. The place is no longer haunted either. It’s finally what it looks like — simply, a castle. You came here to find the truth and to confront Yoongi — you never expected to encounter a ghost and a lich. It’s a wonder how it’s possible trouble can find you in so many ways no matter where you go. “Aren’t you cold?” A husky voice pipes up behind you and you’re brought out of your trance. Pale yellow hair joins your side, reminding you of ducklings. It’s still dawn, but you’re at the bottom steps of the garden's gazebo instead of seeking refuge on a soft bed. It was the only way you could get some peace and quiet from your siblings. “I’m never cold.” You turn to him, a fire flickering in your palm. Yoongi tenderly smiles. “How did speaking to Duke Fesan go?” “He’s bedridden, but he’ll make it. He wasn't too badly injured. But he’s grieving with his daughter.” You nod. “And your mother and father?” “They’re fine. A little shocked, but they’re using the opportunity to boast about me. A lot.” A laugh bubbles out of you. “Well, it’s not like they have no reason to. You’re amazing, Yoongi,” you breathe it out with a second thought, as if it were factual and you don’t notice his gaze on you. “How about your own family?” “They’re fine. My sister’s well enough to flirt with Jinha and my brothers are bickering loud enough to give my mom a headache,” you say and he hums. “But we’re leaving in a few hours. They already called the carriage for the afternoon.” “You’re heading back home?” You nod wordlessly. The tension is suffocating. You decide to break it, turning to him while masking a smile. “How was breaking the...other news to the Duke?” “Easier than one would expect. Klarinda asked to call off the wedding and the Duke said it was the doppelganger’s arrangement anyway. It was trying to amass as much wealth for itself as it could.” “That’s good.” “It is.” “Get that sorted and out of the way.” You steal a glance at Yoongi pathetically to find he has an impassive expression and is blankly looking onward. After a moment, he yawns tiredly and then his eyes flicker to you. Instantly, you divert your vision elsewhere, not noticing his smile. “You know,” he says, “the Duke thought it would be unfair to me. Even though it’s going to be called off, everyone already knows about the arrangement. It might be an opportunity for gossip to be made towards the Min faction.” “And what did you say?” “I said that I already had someone else in mind from the start.” Your eyes meet. Pools of deep brown locked into yours. Strands of his blonde hair nearly pricking into his lashes. And it’s an intimate moment as your voice quiets. “Did you really mean what you said on that boat ride. About regretting not asking me to come with you?” The man exhales, “Every day.” “A wedding with me would be awful,” you murmur, barely coherent. You feel how warmth rises to your face and heats your cheeks like a furnace, and for once, it’s not because of the magical fire inside your blood. “My mom would have to have a whole show and if you thought having three siblings was a lot, wait until you meet my cousins and extended family. They multiplied like damn rabbits.” Yoongi tries to put on a stoic face but fails. His grin is all too gummy. “I don’t mind. You haven’t met my brother yet, but he’s just as overbearing. And if anything, my mother would be ecstatic. She loves noble titles, so she’d hit it off with your mother.” “I still want that great big house.” “I would like one too.” “If you haven’t noticed, I really like my food burnt to a crisp like a fiend.” “I don’t mind.” He shrugs. “I always liked my meat especially cooked anyways.” “I’m a con artis—” “No matter what you say, I won’t change my mind, Y/N.” Yoongi’s brow cocks, challenging you straight on, albeit more gingerly than you’ve ever witnessed. “Your persuasions won’t work.” “Yoongi…” “You still owe me that refund.” What? He grins mischievously and you roll your eyes, having no idea why he’s bringing this up and ruining the moment. “Are you serious?” “Very. You scammed me over a year ago and I expect a full repayment. Also, I happen to collect interest. It’s a hefty, hefty interest fee.” “Okay.” You play along. “What do I owe you now?” You’re not sure what to expect. You’re never sure when it comes to him considering he’s so hard to read. But your breath hitches as he lowers himself to one knee and looks up at you with his tender features relaxed into the softest expression. He pulls something out of his pocket. “Nothing. It’ll be me who will owe you, if you would so graciously choose to spend your life with me—” You throw your arms around Yoongi. The both of you collapse onto the soft bed of grass and you giggle infectiously, pulling yourself up from him. “You’re an idiot, you know that? I really thought that for the rest of your life, you were just going to send me letters.” Yoongi grins a gummy smile. His arms wrap around your body and he reaches up to finally capture your lips on his. The two of you kiss each other, making up for the moments where you should’ve done it sooner. It’s sweet, but less than innocent with how eager it is. You only manage to pull away when out of the corner of your eye, you catch curtains shifting from upstairs. “Nosy, aren’t they,” Yoongi laughs. At the left window, your family is crowding around. Taehyung and Lia are shoving each other to get a look, Seokjin has his palms pressed against the glass, your father is grinning while your mother is absolutely astounded. At the right, both of Yoongi’s parents are peeking out owlishly. You see different members of the faction watching in both horror and confusion, having not yet heard of the news that the engagement is broken and assuming that they’re catching him in the midst of a scandal. But more importantly, you see Klarinda smiling infectiously at the top of the tower with her dad coming to look too. “Exciting, isn’t it?” Yoongi teases, “With so many guests watching.” “Is it so hard to get some damn privacy? This is why I prefer being on the move,” you whine and cast invisibility on the both of you. Yoongi laughs, closing the distance to kiss you again.

[Epilogue] “What if this is a trap.” “Then we’ll grab our weapons. But I don’t think it is.” There’s a house in the middle of the peaceful suburbs, placed in the middle of the street in a row of other homes. Built with bricks covered in render and an oak roof with a chimney on the side, it stands tall in a fairly asymmetrical pattern. The windows are large and it looks like the structure has two floors. More importantly, they swear they see the curtains shift on the left side. The two young adventurers step up on the wooden porch, facing the oak double doors. “Do we just….knock?” “I guess.” His fist raps against the surface while she braces herself for an attack. The door swings open. She hitches her breath, but an onslaught of offensive spells never happens. Instead, they see you. In a simple, brown dress and your hair braided in an updo with loose strands framing your full features. Your eyes glisten, giving a smile and the door widens. “Good afternoon! You children look so tired! Come in, come in!” The pair of them exchange expressions before stepping inside. The interior instantly takes their breath — cozy maple and fresh flowers at the entrance way, mementos on a shelf near the open staircase with a magical pull to them. It’s clear that the owners of this house have made it their own. They can tell each object carries its own meaning and memory, not merely for decoration or the purpose of luxury. “My name is Y/N,” you announce, with a light twinkle in your irises. “And I am a servant girl to the lord and lady of the house. May I ask who has entered the home?” “I-I am Park Jimin. It’s said that there’s a great and powerful sorcerer who lives here and a dark knight who’s been to Shadowfell.” “They’ve defeated dragons and liches before,” the girl beside him adds, brows furrowed as she regards you with a healthy amount of suspicion. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m afraid they’re not here at the moment. They went out to do some bidding, so you might have to wait a few hours until they return,” you inform and the two of them look at one another. “Can I ask for what reason you’re searching for them?” “We have received a prophecy and were sent by Mirla Nistar.” Jimin steps forward. “When lightning strikes twice, a man of darkness shall usher forth a country's doom and the end of wealth. We have reason to suspect that this man is the demon lord, Abraxas, who is trying to rise from Shadowfell.” You hum. “Alright. I’ll let them know as soon as they get back. Would any of you care for tea? I have the best honey and sugar available!” But suddenly, the dimpled boy feels a heavy weight on his mind. It’s a presence pressing on his brain, probing deep and whispering around the caverns of his skull for permission to be let inside. He grips his temples with a groan and his partner turns to him. “Jimin?” He looks off at you and she follows his line of sight. Before she can ask you what you just did, you slip something out of your pocket. In one split second— “Potion?” You hold up the stoppered bottle with the milky liquid sloshing inside. “You have a headache, don’t you? I know it when I see it! Must be from your long travels! Nothing like a rejuvenating potion to feel better.” “I..I’m alright.” Jimin lowers his hand. “Nonsense. You don’t want to miss this chance!” you emphasize. “I bet it wouldn’t even cost you a dime. You’re probably going to spend the same amount on some food or a place to stay at, so why not fork out some now? And it might be helpful for any upcoming adventures or expeditions!” “How much?” the skeptical girl slowly asks and you know you have it in the bag. “Ten gold pieces.” Your eyes glimmer. She digs into her satchel. But then— “What’s with the ruckus?” A rounded face and sleepy features lug down the stairs. He runs a hand through his baby yellow hair shagging in front of his forehead, having just woken up from a long nap. “Who are these people?” “They’re adventurers trying to defeat some demon punk—” “Demon lord,” the boy tries to correct. “—who’s apparently coming back to wreak havoc and steal children.” “Close enough,” he sighs. Yoongi makes a noise of acknowledgment, his expression impassive. Then his eyes dart at them and the potion in your hand. He points. “Are you trying to sell them that?” The corner of your mouth curls. “Maybe.” “Poor folks,” he exhales, utterly ruining your business transaction and not remorseful at all for it. “You’re going to get us into trouble one day.” You scoff. “When haven’t I gotten us into trouble. It’s not new news now.” Your husband grins and comes to sling an arm around your shoulder. He kisses you shamelessly in front of the two strangers, yet it’s a soft and tender gesture. It makes you smile against him. Suddenly, the door shuts behind them and the surrounding warm candlelight ignites. It billows a dim luminescence into the warm home that you’ve both made your own, glowing against the numerous mementos on the shelf that display the many years of your travels and journeys. Yoongi hugs you to his side and you quirk your head onto his shoulder with a sly smile. The adventurers finally come to recognize who the people in front of them are. And the pair of you turn to them. “What was it that you needed again?”

[ffangirlingsince2001]

Said and Done

anonymous asked:

Reader is sick. Geralt has been distant lately so he hasn't noticed that they're sick. All of of them are invited to this party-thingy. Yen is there. Then reader realizes why he has been so distant lately. He's been thinking abt Yen. Reader wants to sing Jaskier warns against it. They sing "God is a woman." By ariana grande. Even though they're sick, they nail the high notes and belts .Geralt feels guilty for not noticing reader was sick because he's been distant. Reader leaves Jaskier is pissed

A/N: Before this fic, I had never listened to this song, and I didn’t do exactly what anon requested, but I hope it still works for you. :)

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: sick!reader, angst, fluff

You, you love it how I move you You love it how I touch you My one, when all is said and done You'll believe God is a woman

Your misfortune began with poison, thick and blue, slipped into a glass of ale and stirred until fully incorporated. No one knew who had slipped it into your drink, and they were long gone by the time you had started vomiting across the floor. At first you thought it was food poisoning and then a bug, but when it hadn’t stopped and Jaskier had shown up at your door with a vile, filled with the aforementioned liquid, the situation became much more sinister. So, while you laid in bed desperately trying to keep nutrients in your body, Geralt searched for your assassin and Jaskier searched for an antidote.

And I, I feel it after midnight A feelin' that you can't fight My one, it lingers when we're done You'll believe God is a woman

The antidote came first, along with a very worried bard who helped you into a warm bath and spent most of his earnings on purchasing a feast to help you get back into the groove. You were his costar after all, so it was no surprise that with the summer solstice coming up he needed you in tip top condition. He assured you that it had nothing to do with that, and he simply wanted you to be healthy, but you could tell by the way that he glanced at the sun from the window that he was keeping track of how many days until the festival began. As the days dragged on your health slowly improved, but with a certain Witcher’s absence, the worry that churned in your stomach wasn’t very helpful in easing the illness that wracked your body.

I don't wanna waste no time, yeah You ain't got a one-track mind, yeah Have it any way you like, yeah And I can tell that you know I know how I want it

Then, as if the air could feel your longing, he was beside your bed, cradling your hand. Physically he was back by your side, but something felt off. It seemed impossible to catch his eye and every moment that he was by your side was laced with something almost uncomfortable. You wanted to know what he had learned while searching, but he had insisted that he had found nothing. A feat that, even in your delusional state, seemed near impossibility. He had never failed to find what he was looking for, especially when it was important, but now he lay at your bedside with nothing but a distant look in his eyes.

Ain't nobody else can relate Boy, I like that you ain't afraid Baby, lay me down and let's pray I'm tellin' you the way I like it, how I want it

At first you didn’t notice the way he wouldn’t catch your eye or the way his hand pulled away when you reached for him. When you quietly whispered through the darkness, asking him if he was alright, he only offered a grunt in response. You were worried he was ill, that something terrible had happened on his journey, but one day you had noticed that Jaskier was still treated like a friend worthy of conversing with. It was just you, and for a second you feared he was preparing for you to die. While Jaskier fussed over your health, begging you to eat something or reprimanding you when you tried to stand, Geralt watched you with hooded eyes, saying nothing at all.

And I can be all the things you told me not to be When you try to come for me, I keep on flourishing And he see the universe when I'm the company It's all in me

This difference became even more apparent the morning of the summer solstice. Even though the rolling in your stomach had not ceased and the room danced around you like drunken ballerinas, you sat up. With great effort you pulled yourself to the closet and threw it open, searching for the dress that had been purchased for the night. It was one of the most expensive garments you had ever owned, a gift from the man who had hired you to sing as the sun finally set. The white silk shimmered with every shift, the threads of gold that had been littered through sparkling like the sun rays that turned the sky brilliant shades of pink and orange before it settled beneath the mountains. It was beautiful, and you prayed that you would not empty the contents of your stomach onto its intricated designs.

You were pulling it over your head when Jaskier and Geralt entered the room, both already prepared for the festivities.

“What are you doing?” Jaskier gasped while Geralt merely narrowed his eyes at the skirt of your dress.

“I’m getting ready,” you said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Jaskier’s eyes seemed to bug out of his head, and even Geralt spared you a look of disbelief.

“You’re ill,” Jaskier protested and you shook your head.

“The show must go on. I’ve performed in worse,” you shrugged, balancing yourself against the doorframe, daring either to see through your lie. They, of course, did.

You, you love it how I move you You love it how I touch you My one, when all is said and done You'll believe God is a woman

But you went nonetheless. At first, Jaskier had insisted on staying with you but you sent him away with a persistent glare and the insistence that you would not hesitate to punch him. The fresh air against your sickly pale face was wonderful and the smell of flowers and baking fruit filled every nerve in your body. You couldn’t believe you had considered not coming, when here, out in the open, you felt healthier than you had in weeks. The laughter of children and sight of woman dancing to Jaskier’s lute seemed to be the only antidote you needed. It’s not to say that your stomach did not still ache and that when the sun glinted a little too brightly you didn’t wince, but you felt far better than you had even before the poisoning. Everything seemed wonderful, until you spotted them.

And I, I feel it after midnight A feelin' that you can't fight My one, it lingers when we're done You'll believe God is a woman

Tucked away in a corner, beneath a booth of brightly colored scarves was Geralt, and his lovely little wage. Suddenly, everything made sense. The distance, the lack of eye contact, the length at which had taken him to return to your side. He had reconnected with Yennefer. Truth be told, you would be surprised if he had even bothered looking for an antidote once he had found her. She was in great contrast to you, but still he seemed enthralled with every breath she took. Part of you wanted to march over to his side and let him have it, but the other part, a more sane part, allowed you to fade back into the crowd before he noticed you.

I'll tell you all the things you should know So, baby, take my hand, save your soul We can make it last, take it slow, hmm And I can tell that you know I know how I want it, yeah

You avoided the couple for the rest of day, ducking behind carts and hiding behind crowds of dancing couples. You even avoided Jaskier until the sun began to set and you needed you accompaniment for your performance.

“You’re not going to sing,” he insisted but you laughed at him.

“That’s the whole reason we’re here. We can’t disappoint.”

“You’re ill.”

“Just barely.”

“I saw you throwing up half an hour ago.”

“I’ll be fine. This is important to me, and if you don’t want to join me I’ll do it without you.” He sighed in defeat and hefted his lute over his shoulder, motioning for you to lead the way to the stage.

But you're different from the rest And boy, if you confess, you might get blessed See if you deserve what comes next I'm tellin' you the way I like it, how I want it

You took your place in the center and bowed deeply to your employer. The dress he had bought was now glistening like that of an angels, and the crowd was watching you intently. Over the hundreds of heads you could see your Witcher and his mage, staring at you very intently. You sent him the strongest smile you could manage and motioned for the instruments to begin playing. It was almost too easy to come up with the lyrics, to rub in the message that was so important for Geralt to understand. They came easily and before you knew it you were singing, high notes and all.

And I can be all the things you told me not to be When you try to come for me, I keep on flourishing And he see the universe when I'm the company It's all in me

With every note you sang, your stomach churned and you grew a little more lightheaded but you refused to fall when you had a point to make. You had to make him understand, you just had to. You couldn’t bare the idea of him leaving you for Yennefer, not after everything you had been through. You forced every ounce of pain, every ounce of sickness, every ounce of hatred, and every ounce of strength you could muster. Through the song you could feel tears bubbling beneath the surface, but you kept singing.

You, you love it how I move you You love it how I touch you My one, when all is said and done You'll believe God is a woman

The world was going black as the song was finishing. The world was hazy and you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep up the song. And you soon found out that wasn’t much longer. Jaskier had his arms around you and lowered you to the ground before your head could come in contact with the stage beneath you. The crowd around you was gasping and murmuring, rushing forward to check on the star who had fallen before them. You could see Jaskier hovering over you, brushing away stray locks of hair. Even more surprisingly the familiar white hair of your Witcher was tickling your cheek.

And I, I feel it after midnight A feelin' that you can't fight My one, it lingers when we're done You'll believe God is a woman, yeah, yeah

“Y/N,” he yelled, cradling your head, fanning you with about as much grace as someone so big could manage. “Y/N, wake up.”

“Go away,” you groaned pushing him away, turning your eyes away from his with a jerk. “Back to Yennefer.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, she made me, for the antidote,” he begged you, pulling your hand into his. You allowed your eyes to drift back to his and were surprised to find tears running down his face. “I have it, and you’re going to get better.”

“I have you,” you whispered and he nodded, pulling you closer, the little bottle filled with your life force held tightly in his hand, and with the way he was looking at you, you knew that this treacherous chapter in your life was all said and done.

[purplesauris]

It Will Come Back

I thought about Eskel for too long and have decided to dive headlong into loving him. Jaskier has too, so BUCKLE UP

Read it on AO3 here!

He’s fine on his own. It’s an easy mantra to chant when he’s kicked from another tavern, or when someone only pays him half of what they agreed. He enjoys his life, wandering the Continent and never settling anywhere, for anyone. He takes the contracts he’s given, eats and sleeps when and where he can, and goes up to see his family in the winter. He is content, never needing anyone other than his family, and never wanting anything from anyone they clearly aren’t willing to give.

Until Jaskier. They’d met once, fleetingly in a bar when Jaskier was wildly drunk and Eskel brought him back to his room. He’d thought of him since, the kind young man who’d patted his arm and thanked him before vomiting at his feet. When he sees him, years upon years later, racing ahead of Geralt and cheeks red from the cold, his heart had given a discordant twang in his chest. He wasn’t sure what the feeling was, and didn’t like it, but Jaskier had taken him by the arms, grip firm, and had recognized him after only a second of looking at him.

Then, Geralt had come down reeking of the warm, dusky scent of love, and Eskel had understood what that feeling was. He’d tucked the feeling away, drank with his brothers, and forgot all about it. Until the next time he’d seen Jaskier of course, and every time after that. Watching the two of them was hard at first; he’d seen spouses interacting before, the love some had held for each other, and he’d seen couples who raged and hated as passionately as they’d once loved. This was different- each glance was an all consuming inferno, each harsh word softened with the love that the two of them reeked of. He’d pretended to be busy more often than not that winter, both to give them space and to clear his head.

He needed no one, and was content to remain that way. When the snows had finally cleared and given way to spring Eskel had set out alone, waving goodbye to his brothers and letting Jaskier squeeze him in a hug that he didn’t want to pull away from. The Path welcomed him as it always did, with a solitary breeze and the sound of Scorpion following obediently alongside him. He was fine on his own.

                                                       -*-

The bar is loud tonight, the air stifling with the press of too many bodies, but Eskel sits among the crowd and drinks his ale. No one sits at his table and that’s how he likes it- the barmaid hardly stops long enough to give him his drink, fear clinging to her like a dress. Eskel makes sure to leave his coin far enough away that she can skitter back later to snatch it up. He’s only here for the night anyhow; he’s after a contract near Oxenfurt for what he suspects is a leshen killing in the forest, and when the others wake tomorrow, hungover, Eskel will be gone. He’s fine on his own, he reminds himself, and downs the rest of his ale. He hasn’t drunk nearly enough to make his head spin or really affect him, but pretending, blending into the crowd makes him feel more human, and he’s willing to waste coin on watered down ale for tonight.

He waves the barmaid away when she comes back, pitcher clutched in her shaking hands, and decides to head to bed. A hand touches his shoulder before he can get up, featherlight and sliding between the spikes on his pauldrons. Eskel’s heart leaps into his throat, and thankfully the din of the crowd is enough to hide his uncomfortable growl.

“Fancy seeing you here, wolf.” The voice is achingly familiar, and his eyes track Jaskier’s lithe movements as he plops into the seat across from him, grinning. The warmth has done him well- his hair curls attractively at the nape of his neck, damp, and Eskel averts his eyes respectfully so as not to stare.

“Jaskier, I thought you two went west.” He looks back up only once he’s certain he won’t stare, and he finds Jaskier watching him, smiling. “Where is Geralt?”

“Hunting.” Jaskier’s voice is light, but Eskel nearly chokes on the washed out scent of his worry. “I, on the other hand, had a performance in Oxenfurt.”

“What are you doing here, then?” Eskel forces neutrality into his tone, polite interest at most, and sees Jaskier’s lips twitch down momentarily before that grin is back.

“Geralt isn’t fond of the city, so we meet here.” Jaskier motions to the barmaid, smiling graciously and winking when she brings him an ale. She giggles, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and Jaskier tilts his head, whispering something to her. Her gaze flicks toward Eskel for a second, losing some of its warmth, and Eskel feels it like a physical blow. He doesn’t react though, merely toys with the empty cup in front of him and ignores the two until the barmaid has left again. Jaskier sighs dramatically when she walks away, downing half his drink and leaning back in his chair. Eskel tilts his head, raising a brow, and Jaskier sighs again.

“What?” He can tell when Jaskier wants to say something, but Jaskier merely shakes his head and smiles.

“Thinking is all. What brings you here? I would have though you’d be further east by now.” Jaskier sips at his ale as Eskel talks, blue eyes trained on his face, attention solely on him. Warmth blooms in his chest, and he shrugs weakly.

“There’s a contract nearby for a leshen, so I though I’d take it before moving on. Scorpion could use new shoes.”

“Geralt said the same thing when we got down the mountain. You witchers and your horses.” Jaskier’s voice is fond, and though he knows it isn’t for him, a small part of him clings to the words. The barmaid comes back to fill Jaskier’s cup, and Jaskier turns his attention to her. Eskel watches the easy way that they interact, the hand she lays on his upper arm, and his neck burns. Something that she says though upsets Jaskier, and he murmurs quietly before shaking his head and sending her away with a handful of coin.

“Something wrong?”

“It appears that I’ll be headed back to Oxenfurt after all. They’re full up for the night.”

“Stay with me.” The words escape him before he can choke them back, and Jaskier’s eyes widen before he beams.

“You’re too kind, dear, but I couldn’t impose.” He’s being given an out- Eskel should take it, knows it, but his traitorous heart whispers different things to him.

“It isn’t imposing. I’m only here for the night, and you can have the room when I leave.” Jaskier considers him quietly, fingers drumming against the tabletop, and smiles.

“You’ve saved me again it seems.”

Eskel struggles to keep his cheeks from going pink, and he clears his throat, letting go of his cup. Someone’s refilled it with ale, but he doesn’t think he could stand to drink anymore right now and he doesn’t want to anyhow. What he wants is to go to bed, and be gone in the morning before Jaskier wakes. Jaskier seems to see the way his shoulders droop, and he stands up, leaving his half empty cup on the table as he nods toward the stairs. Eskel leads him from the common area without complaint, and up to his- their room. The room is dark when Eskel steps in, but he navigates it without difficulty and lights the candles in the room with a wave of the hand. Jaskier blinks at the change in light, clutching at his bag and glancing around. Eskel waves for Jaskier to come in fully, undoing the clasp to his sheathes and moving to lean them against the wall.

He listens but doesn’t watch as Jaskier sets his things down and looks around, trying and failing not to be nosy. Eskel doesn’t have anything in particular he’s hellbent on hiding, so he allows Jaskier his time to snoop and goes about getting out of his armor. There’s the soft click of a tongue, and he turns in time for Jaskier to catch him and turn him back. Jaskier’s fingers work at the clasps easily, and pieces of his armor fall away before he can even protest. Jaskier walks around him in a slow circle, inspecting each piece before setting it aside. Eskel draws the line at getting his chest armor off, nudging Jaskier’s hands away and shucking it off so he’s left in just the plainclothes he wears underneath. Jaskier looks at him approvingly and nods, smiling up at him. Eskel feels himself smiling back before he can think better of it, the motion tugging at his scar. Jaskier’s eyes are soft as they stare at each other, and Eskel can feel Jaskier’s breath on his face and-

Eskel comes back to his senses just as Jaskier goes up on his tiptoes, pressing a featherlight kiss to his lips. He loses his sense just as quickly, body singing with the contact, and he watches more than he feels his hands draw Jaskier closer. He feels Jaskier’s hands slide up his chest, tapping little patterns into his skin as Eskel tilts his head and kisses him deeper. Jaskier melts against his chest, leans into his arms, and Eskel comes crashing back to his body all at once. He jerks back as if burned, a hand flying up to cover his mouth. It’s wrong, what he’s doing. It’s wrong and he did it anyway. Jaskier blinks, sways on his feet as Eskel steps back, and he seems confused, watching as Eskel backs up against the door and clutches his medallion, thumb worrying at the pointed nose.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I don’t know what I was doing-”

“Kissing me?” Jaskier still seems confused, and he takes a few steps toward Eskel until he sees the way his hands are shaking. His expression turns soft, sad, and he stops a foot away. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No- yes, I can’t- do that to Geralt.” Eskel isn’t sure what he’s trying to say; his head is spinning and his lips tingle and he can still feel the warmth from Jaskier leaning against him. Understanding blooms in Jaskier’s eyes, and he closes the distance between them, gently taking one of Eskel’s hands and running a thumb over his knuckles. Eskel’s whole world focuses on that point of contact, and he stares as Jaskier talks.

“Geralt knows.” Eskel’s eyes fly up to meet Jaskier’s, searching for the lie he knows he must be telling, but Jaskier’s eyes are earnest and lovely.

“I- what?” Jaskier laughs softly and tugs Eskel over to sit down on the bed, taking both his hands now.

“Eskel, when is the last time someone kissed you? Told you they loved you?”

“Voluntarily?” Jaskier hums an affirmative, and he feels something uncomfortably like sadness squirm in his chest. He’s fine on his own, he reminds himself, though Jaskier’s hands are warm and holding his tight. “I don’t know.”

“How often do you look at people, wishing you could have what they have, if only for a moment?” Eskel doesn’t respond, iron claws clutching at his chest, and Jaskier continues. “I don’t want you to be lonely anymore.”

“You- don’t have to sleep with me.” It’s the only thing that Eskel can think to say, and Jaskier laughs quietly.

“While I’ve thought about it, that’s not what I mean. I love him, with all my heart. But Eskel, I won’t deny the way that I feel about you, too. Or ignore the sadness that comes over you whenever you see us together. You’re so sad love, and it breaks my heart.” Jaskier brings Eskel’s hands up and kisses each knuckle gently, watching as Eskel’s lips quiver.

“It- it doesn’t, bother you two?”

“No, it doesn’t. I couldn’t possibly spend every full moon with him the way he needs, so sometimes, I let Lambert take him for the night, and come back when they’ve both been sated. Seeing him happy, content, makes me happy too.” Jaskier grins then, letting go of a hand to cup Eskel’s cheek. Eskel leans into the touch immediately, closing his eyes as Jaskier’s thumb sweeps gently across his scar. Pleasant tingles shoot over his skin, and he turns to nose against Jaskier’s palm. “If you aren’t comfortable, Eskel, tell me and I’ll never press. I just…”

“I can’t- sleep with you.” His voice shakes and the sound embarrasses him, but Jaskier makes a soft noise in his throat. Eskel looks at him then, and he can feel hot tears stinging at his eyes, but Jaskier merely cups his face in both hands now and kisses the corners of his eyes. “Watching you and Geralt- hurts.”

“It doesn’t have to, love. There’s space for you with us, if you want it. For as long or as short as you want it. And if all you want is kissing, or even just someone to hold your hand, that’s all we have to be. Nothing you don’t want.”

Jaskier can’t kiss his tears away fast enough, and Eskel feels something hard and cold release in his chest. Suddenly he can breathe, and he lets out a small sob. He expects Jaskier to recoil, unsure of what to do with a crying witcher, but Jaskier merely crawls into his lap, tucking Eskel’s face into his neck and petting his hair as Eskel clings tight to him. Jaskier hums a soft little song, rocking slowly, and presses kisses to the side of Eskel’s head. They stay that way for a while, pressing close to each other and sharing in the warmth of their embrace. Eskel’s voice is quiet, muffled against Jaskier’s skin, but Jaskier hears him all the same. “This feels like a dream that I’ll wake up from.”

He yelps suddenly, jerking a bit to the side when Jaskier pinches at his ribs. Jaskier laughs softly, smoothing his hands down Eskel’s shirt and placing a kiss on the corner of Eskel’s mouth. “I would say that proves you’re awake, hmm?”

“No wonder Geralt loves you. Nothing but charm.” He cracks a small, hesitant smile that grows when Jaskier chuckles. This time when they kiss, Eskel is the one to lean in, kissing him slow and sweet. Jaskier relaxes into the kiss, lips warm and familiar, and Eskel feels the bard's fingers dance over his chest. He can’t tell if it’s a nervous habit or something he does when he can’t use his hands, but Eskel reaches up to take hold of them. He places one of Jaskier’s hands on his neck and keeps hold of the other one, purring softly when Jaskier’s fingers slip into his hair and scratch lightly at his scalp. Eskel wraps an arm around Jaskier, tugging him a bit closer, and Jaskier sighs against his lips. Eskel loses himself in the way that Jaskier’s lips feel against him, the way he tastes, and Jaskier’s cheeks are ruddy when he pulls back for a breath. Eskel chases him, catching him in another brief kiss, and Jaskier laughs softly.

“Not going anywhere love, just want to get more comfortable. If I shed some clothes, will that make you uncomfortable?”

“No.” Eskel’s chest burns with happiness at the considerate question, and Jaskier slips from his lap to remove most of his clothes. He keeps his smallclothes on, but he comes back and leans down to kiss Eskel softly.

“You were going to leave tomorrow, right?” Eskel hums an affirmative, and Jaskier presses their foreheads together.

“Then you need sleep, and that means it’s time for bed.” Eskel considers this and finds no fault in his logic. He strips his own pants off, far too warm, but keeps his shirt on. Something in him doesn’t want to be completely exposed, not now, but Jaskier doesn’t say a word when Eskel blows out the candles. He just holds the blanket up and welcomes Eskel into bed. Eskel lays down next to him, unsure of where to put his limbs or what really to do, but Jaskier has it under control. He tugs Eskel until Eskel’s head is tucked under his chin and one of his arms is thrown over Jaskier’s waist. After a moment of consideration Eskel slides a leg between Jaskier’s and Jaskier hitches his leg up higher so they can lay pressed closer together. He hums softly, finding he likes this, and falls asleep to Jaskier humming a soft tune.

                                                         -*-

“He’s a dream.” Eskel stirs at the sound of Jaskier talking, drifting between waking and dreaming. Calloused fingers card through his hair and he leans up into the touch, purring. There’s a soft laugh and a kiss is pressed to the nape of his neck. There’s someone very warm pressed to his back, spooning him, and someone else sitting on the edge of the bed playing with his hair. His eyes snap open, knowing there were only two of them when he went to bed. There’s a soft shushing sound, and a hand- Jaskier’s- pets over his chest. “Just Geralt, sweetheart. He came back sooner than expected.”

“Coming to bed?” Eskel grinds out, voice hoarse with the sleep still tugging at his limbs. He hears a soft hum from Geralt, the faint rumble of a purr building in the other witcher’s throat. He listens as Geralt’s armor and clothes come off, and then another body is crawling into bed in the dark of a predawn morning. Jaskier grumbles at being squished against the wall, but Eskel purrs loudly and that shuts Jaskier up. Geralt smells like home- of pine forests and snow and metal, and he loops an arm over Geralt’s side as Geralt tucks himself up against Eskel’s chest. Eskel drifts back to sleep pressed between the two lovers, warm and safe, and listens to the beat of Jaskier’s fluttering heart.

He's sweating when he wakes up. The sun has just broken over the horizon but there are two arms over his waist and two bodies curled around him. Eskel is on his back, Geralt's head on his shoulder and Jaskier's tucked against his neck, and he feels the happiest he has in a long time. Idle fingers draw patterns across his abdomen and up his chest, and he turns to peek at Geralt. The other witcher is awake, probably has been since the sun came up, and Eskel regards him in happy confusion.

"You're okay with this?" He has to hear it again, not wanting this to be some sick joke. A small smile graces Geralt's face, and he scoots a bit closer.

"It was my idea. He worried about you." Eskel turns to look at Jaskier, fast asleep and curled up against his side. Geralt surprises him by continuing, talking low so Jaskier wont wake. "He came to me one day, trying not to cry, telling me he was horrible, but that I wasn't the only witcher he loved."

"Me?"

Geralt nods. A sleepy voice chimes in then, raspy with disuse but melodious all the same. "He told me that my heart was big, and he knew that from the moment we got together. Big sap. Gave me his blessing to pursue you, as long as that's what you wanted too."

Gentle kisses are placed on the soft skin under his jaw, and Eskel arches his head to the side on instinct. Jaskier hums a thank you and places another smattering of kisses over his neck. "What- is this then?"

"Whatever we want it to be, I suppose." Jaskier murmurs against his throat, going up onto one elbow to look down at him. "Something specific you had in mind?"

"A kiss?" His voice is more timid than he'd expect, but Jaskier chuckles softly and leans down.

"I think that I can manage."

[5hfanfiction]

When She Sees Me (Chapter 1)

Summary: Camila’s a rich girl with some demons she can’t escape from. Lauren’s in a famous girl group and can’t tell the difference between who she wants to be and who others think she is.

It’s obvious they’re meant to be, but for some reason the universe is trying to do everything possible to tear them apart.

-

When Camila is in her senior year, she is already on top of the world.

-

“Baby. Wake up.”

She squints one eye open and rolls over to see Dua giving her that cheeky, beaming smile that she fell in love with three years ago and she breaks into her own grin. “What time is it?” Camila mumbles, propping herself up slightly and reaching for the phone laying on her nightstand.

“Six o’ five. We better hurry or we’re going to be late.”

Camila turns her phone on and immediately winces at the brightness. “Can you read the notifs for me?” she groans, flashing the phone screen at Dua.

Dua takes the phone in her hand. “Ally texted you telling you to wake up. Also, I think she sent you like, five, memes.”

Her phone chimes again.

“‘Did Dua stay over last night? I hear you two talking…’” Dua reads. “Yes, I’m here, Ally!” she shouts.

“Please tell me you guys kept it PG last night!” Ally’s voice is slightly muffled. She’s only in the next room over.

“Can you guys all be quiet? Some of us have an extra hour to sleep.” And then there’s Shawn, Camila’s older brother.

The door flies open and all of a sudden the oldest Cabello sibling, Harry, barges in. “Get out,” Camila whines, and Dua just laughs.

“Yeah, everybody seems fully clothed.” Oh, shit, he’s on the phone.

“Who are you talking to?” Camila sits up in bed and scowls at her brother.

“Ally.”

Camila rolls her eyes. “You guys are all idiots!” she yells. Three separate laughs come back in response. “Jesus Christ,” she hisses, and then she grabs Dua’s hand and tugs her out of bed. “Come on, hun, it’s time to face whatever dumbasses the universe throws at us today.”

She slips her glasses on her face as she and Dua walk out the door.

-

See, they all kind of have a routine by now.

Dua doesn’t stay over that often- only when Camila’s parents are off on particularly long business trips or it’s a special occasion (i.e. their anniversary)- but whenever she does, she always finds herself feeling a bit out of place. She’s only told Camila this once, but Camila has kept it in mind ever since, because she knows the whole Cabello clan can be a little overwhelming.

Okay, maybe more than a little.

“Are we going to stop to get Starbucks before school?” Ally asks as she maneuvers around Camila to reach for an apple. “Because if not I’m going to make a smoothie.”

Camila eyes the clock. “If we get Starbucks we’re going to be late. Go with a smoothie. And make me and Dua one, please.”

“Gotcha. Harry?” Harry tosses Ally the bag of frozen fruit. “Thanks.”

As Ally dumps the fruit in the blender, Camila pulls her phone out of the pocket of her robe and reaches for the Beats speaker on the kitchen island. A few moments later, a song with a nineties R&B vibe to it is pumping throughout the room. Camila sings along, as usual.

“He know I keep it ready on the regular, so I don’t have to get ready, ain’t no settin’ up…” She collects up her homework on the kitchen counter and makes a move for her backpack. “When I give it I make sure I give more than enough, yeah; he know, he know this-”

“I hate this song,” Ally says.

“Shut your mouth.” Camila glares at her. “Don’t disrespect the Unholy Trinity like that.”

Ah, the Unholy Trinity. They’ve been Camila’s longtime obsessions- she collects favorite artists the way some people collect coins, or… stamps. Do people still do that?

Either way, she love-love-loves the Unholy Trinity. Seriously, they’re right up her alley. Three smokin’ hot girls with amazing personalities and bomb-ass music? Sign her up. She’s loved them ever since they won the X-Factor two years ago. She’s loved them ever since the media deemed them the next Destiny’s Child. She may or may not write fanfiction about them in her spare time.

Okay, maybe that one’s going a little overboard. But can you blame her? Just look at them.

“Oh, right, I forgot that Lauren Jauregui is the love of Camila’s life- sorry, Dua.”

“That’s not true!” Camila frowns in protest. “I just think Lauren Jauregui’s really hot. But nobody compares to Dua.” She walks over to Dua, cups her chin in her hand, and kisses her cheek quickly. “I’m yours,” she whispers.

“Okay, gross. Back off with the PDA.” Ally pretends to throw up. Camila kisses Dua again and snipes, “You’re just jealous because you’re the only Cabello that’s single.”

“Stop!” Ally cries, hiding her face in her hands. “It’s not my fault that I suck at relationships.” Harry passes her three to-go cups, which she fills with smoothies before fitting lids on each one. “Here you go. Dua, Mila, you guys have thirty minutes to get dressed and out the door. If you don’t I’m leaving without you.” She gives Harry a quick hug. “Have fun at work, you old, old man.”

“Have fun at high school, you little, little toddlers,” Harry shoots back before rushing out the front door. Camila and Dua both grab their smoothies before heading upstairs to Camila’s bathroom. “Thanks, Als!” Camila calls over her shoulder.

Ally waves her off. “No problem. Just don’t be late.”

“We won’t!”

Much like the Cabello siblings have their own kitchen routine, Dua and Camila have their own routine in Camila’s bathroom. Nothing sexual- most of the time. But it actually works out pretty well because Camila usually wears quite a bit of makeup and Dua wears next to none, but Camila leaves her hair natural and Dua likes to straighten hers, so they switch off fairly smoothly and Camila has a very big bathroom and it all fits together neatly.

Today they’re moving a little slower than most days, so by the time they’re dressed and walking downstairs Ally is already threatening to leave.

“Hurry up!” she demands, smoothie cup in one hand and two tennis bags in the other- one is her own, and the other is Camila’s. Dua and Camila put their empty cups by the sink and pick up the pace a little. Right as they’re about to walk out the door, Shawn trudges downstairs, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“Bye, guys,” he grumbles, clearly still tired. “Bye, Shawn!” the three shout in unison as they slam the door shut.

Ally practically runs down their long driveway, tennis bags bouncing against her hip. Dua follows closely behind, and Camila’s picking her way down in her Louboutins and that fishnets-under-ripped-boyfriend-jeans thing that she’s become quite taken with. Ally hates it 'cause she thinks the fishnets are stupid, and Dua doesn’t quite understand the trend (she’s more of a simple t-shirt and sweatpants kind of girl) but she thinks Camila looks hot as hell in them regardless.

“Oh my goodness, hurry up!” Ally calls, but she’s laughing watching Camila struggle down their driveway. “I call shotgun!” Camila screams. God, she’s usually so fucking good at walking in ridiculous heels but their driveway is her worst nightmare because of how steep it is.

Dua, being the amazing girlfriend she is, even though she’s stifling chuckles at Camila trying to get to the car, holds the door open to the passenger side for Camila until she gets down, and shut it behind her like a true gentleman. “Chivalry isn’t dead,” Camila whispers loudly to Ally as Dua slides into the back seat next to their backpacks and Camila and Ally’s tennis bags.

Ally leans in really close and says in Camila’s ear, so Dua can’t hear her, “A real chivalrous girlfriend wouldn’t have just stood there and laughed at you, but that’s just me.”

Camila sucks in a sharp breath and gives Ally a meaningful look. What else was Dua supposed to do. Carry her? That’s just ridiculous.

But this has been a pattern over the last month or so- Ally and Shawn, mostly, and sometimes Harry, and a couple times Camila’s parents have even said a few things about it. Just little comments about Dua and Camila’s relationship: about whether they’re really serious, about if they really want to stay together when they both go off to college. Stuff like that. Camila has no idea where this is coming from, considering she and Dua have been together for three years (since the end of freshman year) and have never once stopped to take a break. And in Camila’s opinion? They really are serious.

The one thing is sex. They haven’t had sex. Dua has made a couple of advances (trust her, it was just really heavy petting) but Camila just doesn’t want to. Yes, she’s eighteen, and yes (as some people, including Dua, have mentioned) she sometimes (all the time) dresses like she’s twenty-five and at a club, but it’s not a crime that she doesn’t want to have sex. She’s not going to be pressured into anything. She’s simply not ready.

It’ll happen eventually, anyway, so… who even cares? Why is she even thinking about this? She’s going to have sex with Dua. Probably. Definitely. Just… not right now. Maybe when they, uh, get married.

Married. It’s weird, because Dua and Camila have been together for a while, but something in her just can’t imagine walking down the aisle with Dua. Or even proposing. But that’s probably just because she hasn’t really seen lesbian weddings in modern media except in Glee, and Glee doesn’t reflect on real life at all.

They haven’t even talked about it. They haven’t even talked about what’s going to happen after they graduate and Camila inevitably goes to Harvard and Dua inevitably goes to some arty-farty school in Washington and they have to do a long-distance relationship or- or break up.

They haven’t talked about any of it.

Camila wonders if they’ll ever talk about it.

She turns her attention back to Ally, who is explaining to Dua where exactly the Cabello parents are this time.

“Sinu’s somewhere in Europe right now. She just came out with her new fall line- oh my goodness, have you seen it?” Ally’s eyes are shining, something that happens every time she talks about her mother’s career. “It’s gorgeous. I love it so, so much. It’s all over Instagram and Tumblr- did you know she let me look over her rough sketches and give my input on it?” She’s practically glowing.

Anyone who knows Camila knows she loves her clothes- designer brands and new internet trends and sky-high heels- but Ally is the true style aficionado in their family.

She takes after their mother, of course.

Sinuhe Cabello, the founder, namesake, head designer, and CEO of the iconic Cabello fashion brand, had risen to fame when she was just twenty years old. Newly pregnant. Newly married. She barely had anything except her talent, her compassion, and her brain. No money. No connections.

And now she’s here. Four kids and billions of dollars later and Camila thinks her mother is the most influential, amazing, inspiring person she’s ever met. And all of the Cabello kids see their mother the same way.

Even though she was always busy, she was always, always there for them. They never felt neglected or unloved. Sinu had always made an effort to be a huge part of their lives, even if it was over Skype calls or good morning and good night texts. She was just so there, even when she wasn’t there in person.

“And Ale’s giving a seminar in Arizona, I think. But he’s coming back tonight to take us out for dinner, which is really nice.” Ally turns to look at Camila. “Where did he say we were going tonight?”

And then there was their father, Dr. Alejandro Cabello, the brilliant psychologist-turned-writer who also spends his fair share of time in the spotlight due to his three bestselling novels. He is a former Harvard professor, he comes from one of the most influential, well-connected families in America, he’s one of the most intelligent people in the world, and he’s also easily the biggest, mushiest dork that Camila has ever come in contact with.

He’s also gone a lot, but not as much as he used to be, and definitely not as much as Sinu is. Alejandro puts in the same amount of effort into seeing his kids as much as possible, and it reflects a lot of his relationship with all four. Harry, being the first Cabello child and therefore experiencing the first overwhelming stages of Sinu’s fame, didn’t see his parents while growing up as much as Camila, the baby of the family, did, but you’d never be able to tell. Camila and Harry are equally close to their parents, which is almost impossible to reach considering the circumstances but they made it work somehow.

As long as Camila could remember, her parents had always been famous. She was born into fame. All of the Cabello kids were. And maybe some of that contributed to parenting that many people in the past have called “eccentric” at best and “life-ruining” at worst. For example, how Sinu and Ale insist the kids call them by their first names, instead of “mom” or “dad”. Or how Sinu and Ale have taken some pretty drastic measures in order to keep their kids out of the fickle world of fame, and have done some borderline insane things (including making detrimental career choices ) to do things like show up to Harry and Shawn’s high school graduation, or one of Camila or Ally’s concerts.

But it doesn’t really matter what other people say. They love their parents in the end. And their parents love them. Camila is very, very grateful for her family. For all they’ve given her, she would be the most selfish person in the world not to be.

“I don’t know,” Camila says to Ally. “I’m pretty sure he said it was some really fancy restaurant, but we’re definitely gonna end up at McDonald’s or something.”

“Of course we are.” Ally giggles at that.

As she pulls her Lamborghini (18th birthday presents from Sinu and Ale; Ally got one in white, Camila has one in black) into the school’s parking lot, there’s the usual commotion. Another “questionable” parenting choice: sending their kids to public school. All of them but Harry attended Restrepo High School, which although was decidedly not ghetto or anything, was definitely not the flashy all-boys private school Harry went to. Basically, seeing a Lambo wasn’t exactly the norm, ever.

Ally, Camila, and Dua step out of the car, and people start to lose interest. Despite Ally and Camila’s money-filled upbringing, neither of them are very popular. Ally is too genuine and introverted to care about popularity, and Camila is just… a nerd. She does Mathletes and the Interact club and she’s an officer of a handful of others, and though it looks stellar on college applications other people just mostly think she’s a nerd.

(Also, like she said before, most of the time she dresses like she’s twenty-five and an Instagram model, which is somehow not cool to anyone in real life under the age of eighteen. It’s actually really disappointing.)

She’s also pretty involved in theatre and drama- she’s been in the musical ever since freshman year. She loves drama, and choir, and pretty much anything where she gets to be on stage.

Ally is different in the way that she’s a literal piano prodigy- like, dear god, she’s amazing- and she’s also a star tennis player and is nationally ranked. Sure, they both play tennis, but Ally is an incredible player and Camila is only doing it so she has a sport on her college applications. She’s so uncoordinated and honestly pretty fucking awful at it.

They’re both involved in a lot of “lame” activites so they only have a few close friends, which would probably be lonelier if they didn’t have each other.

Camila always says she loves all of her siblings equally, which is true, for the most part. It’s just… she and Ally are each other’s ride or die. Always have been, always will be. They literally grew up side by side, doing everything together, because they don’t have the age gap they have with Harry or Shawn. They share everything: clothes, makeup, hair stuff, perfume, homework, books, food, music, secrets, and similar opinions on a lot of important topics, whether it be social or political. They’re absolute best friends- and yeah, sometimes people think it’s dumb that Camila’s best friend is her sister, but she’s not ashamed of it. They come as a team. You rarely ever will get one without the other.

They bicker occasionally, of course, as all siblings do, but they’ve never gone more than a day without speaking because they just can’t handle it. Who else are they going to trust with… everything?

Dua is Camila’s girlfriend, and she’s one of her closest friends. Perhaps her only close friend if you don’t count her family. But there are some things that Camila can’t tell her. Some things that she wouldn’t tell anyone voluntarily. The things that she stacks in the farthest corner of her brain, folded up and covered in dust. Dua doesn’t pry because she doesn’t even know they’re there- that’s how far back they’re hidden. They’re not talked about. It’s almost like if Camila pretends hard enough, they’re not even there, and never were in the first place.

Those are the things Camila would never tell anyone, and those are the things that Ally already knows.

-

After school, Camila and Ally have gratuitous two-hour tennis practices, and then Camila has to go straight to voice lessons and Ally has to go to piano lessons. Like everything else in the Cabello household, this is scheduled almost to a T: Camila and Ally change quickly in the locker room, then Ally drops Camila off at her voice lesson, then Ally drives herself to her piano lesson. Camila’s voice lesson finishes about fifteen minutes earlier than Ally’s flute lesson, so Harry, who is just getting off work by then, picks up Camila and drives to the Starbucks nearby.

Camila will get some sort of latte and Harry will get something unnecessarily strong considering it’s seven o’ clock in the evening. Ally meets them there and they help each other out with their homework before heading back home an hour and a half later.

They get their crazy time-management-obsessed genes from both their parents.

Speaking of which, when they get home, Alejandro is waiting for them with open arms.

“Ale!” Camila yells, bombarding her father with a hug. Harry and Ally quickly follow suit, and Shawn (a few minutes off their near-perfect schedule) bursts through the door and shouts, “You’re home!” Then an inevitable “ugh, I’m late!”

“How was Arizona?” Harry’s eyes are huge and interested- out of the four of them, he’s the most engrossed in Ale’s work, but Camila isn’t far behind.

“Fantastic. I love Arizona. If it wasn’t so inconvenient, you bet your asses we would be living there.”

Camila sees so much of herself in Ale. Everybody always tells her that they’re pretty much the same person.

“Don’t swear,” Ally reprimands, clicking her tongue disapprovingly- something she stole directly from their mother. Alejandro scrunches up his nose. “Oh, sorry. You bet your bottoms. Woo. Arizona. E for everyone.”

Camila and Harry crack up laughing in exactly the same way: large peals of hysterical, breath-catching laughter, where they double over and clap their hands a lot. Ally looks rightly miffed. Shawn looks surprised for a second, and then shakes his head and chuckles.

“So, what do you guys think about going to Cheesecake Factory for dinner?” Alejandro proposes. “They have some nice calamari. And really good bread. And cheesecake.”

“I’m down!” Camila grins like a Cheshire cat. Ally sighs and says, “Sure.” Harry and Shawn both agree with twin smiles. Then they return to their debate on whether the drinking age should be lowered from 21 or not- but that’s their thing, you know. Random debates. Camila doesn’t quite get the appeal.

They’re almost out the door when Alejandro’s phone starts to ring.

When he picks it up, Camila knows that it’s her mother on the phone, but from the way Alejandro’s lips are twisted, made to hide a smile, she can already tell that some dumb joke is coming.

“Offspring,” Alejandro announces dramatically, “your mom is on the phone. Please be little darlings and don’t tell her about the meth lab we built in the basement while she was gone. Or that we sold her rough drafts of her 2017-2018 winter collection or eBay to pay for it.” He smiles a fake saccharine smile.

Camila bursts out laughing. Ally squints at him and takes the phone. “I want a divorce,” sounds Sinu’s voice from the phone. Camila can tell she’s struggling to fight the exact same laugh Camila let loose seconds earlier.

“No,” Alejandro says.

“Well, screw you.”

“No, but kids get alcohol either way, right? It doesn’t matter if it’s legal.” Oh, that’s just Harry. Are they still talking about that?

“We don’t even have a basement?” Ally interrupts. “This is California? AKA earthquake land? That’s actually really dangerous?”

“Hi, Sinu!” Camila cheers.

“Hi, sweetheart. Thank you for keeping your father in line while I’m gone. I know he needs a whole lotta help.”

“What the fuck, babe?” Alejandro exclaims at the same time Ally protests, “I’m the one keeping him in line!” They look at each other and narrow their eyes with matching scowls. This isn’t over, Ally mouths. Alejandro makes a face at her.

“Don’t swear in front of the kids,” Sinu says. “That’s what I told him!” shouts Ally.

“I swear to god, Sinu, you are influencing our daughter too much.”

“Sinu, when are you coming home?” Shawn yells much louder than necessary. “We all miss you a lot,” Harry adds.

“Aw, I miss you guys too,” Sinu coos, voice softening. “I’m going to be home Wednesday night, but I promise I’ll call you guys once in the morning and once in the evening, okay? On schedule, like always.”

“Okay,” Camila and Ally say in unison. “Well, we gotta go, or Cheesecake Factory is going to close, so we’ll see you later?” Camila asks Sinu.

“Sounds good. I’m giving you a thumbs up but you can’t see it.” That’s classic Sinu, and Camila feels a rush of warmth for her mom- even though she’s not there in person she still seems like she’s all around.

“We love you!” the Cabello kids chorus as one, and Alejandro chuckles above them all. “I love you, honey,” he tells her.

“Love you too, Ale.” They can practically hear the fond smile in Sinu’s voice. “And I love all you guys. Don’t have too much fun without me. See you soon!”

The phone clicks off, and there’s a small silence: one for the millions of times it felt empty without their mother there, but quickly followed with the knowledge that she’d always be there for them, no matter what. And just the same, the quiet is filled with chatter about school and work and love and morals and philosophy and anything the five can think of, because they share the same blood, and they know it makes them feel better to let everything out through words.

Bottling it up never works. Camila knows it never works. She’s had so much- too much- experience with bottling up all of her emotions. It never leads to anything good. It never has in the past. But Camila tries not to think about the past too much.

It’s better now, anyway.

-

There is nothing Lauren loves more than her job.

She comes to this  conclusion when she’s backstage, waiting to perform, and Dinah won't  stop flicking the side of Normani’s head while Normani struggles to lace  up her knee-length heeled boots.

“Dinah, you annoying  little shit, stop it.” Normani shoots her a deadly glare and pokes  Dinah’s forehead with a single long acrylic nail. Dinah yelps, rubs her  forehead, and flips Normani off.

“If you don’t treat your  mama right, bye-bye, bye-bye.” Lauren mutters the lyrics of their song  “Lonely Night” under her breath. “If you got another chick on the side,  bye-bye, bye-bye.” Normani’s smooth, silky voice harmonizes perfectly  with her own.

“You look everywhere but  my eyes, bye-bye, bye-bye,” Normani chimes in. “It’s gonna be a lonely,  lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely night- bye-bye.”

The voice of their stage  manager, Corinna, comes through their in-ears. “Girls, you’re on in  fifteen. Make sure your clothes are good, okay? We don’t want another  situation like New Jersey to happen here.”

The three girls grimace  at the mention of New Jersey. They all like the state, but the last time  they were there Dinah had a little wardrobe malfunction (her tight bra  top came untied; nothing was revealed, but it was a close call) and  Lauren tripped three times (three. Three!) in her high-ass heels. The  heel part wasn’t the clothes’ fault, just Lauren’s for being clumsy. But  Corinna’s right to warn them. This is just prep for their upcoming  world tour, after all.

They’re currently  opening for Demi Lovato on her Tell Me You Love Me tour, and honestly  Lauren would probably be way more starstruck if Demi hadn’t been their  mentor on the X Factor, where they were discovered. She was such a great  teacher for them, and they actually became pretty good friends, so it  was a really cool full-circle kind of thing that they’re opening for her  tour now before they go on their own full world tour. And god, Lauren's  so excited.

Yes, of course, any tour is amazing, and opening for Demi has been such an incredible  opportunity for the three of them, but Lauren can’t wait for their own chance. Their first true world tour, displaying their first real album.

Now that the Tell Me You Love Me tour is coming to a close, Lauren thinks she has a pretty good  grasp on how everything works. They have a good team, a good designer, and amazing fans- they just have such a nice support system that Lauren never appreciated before this. But now she knows the importance of all those working parts coming together. And really, she couldn’t be happier about it.

Lauren turns to her bandmates. “Do I look okay?” She flips her dark hair, curled and pinned  back with bobby pins. Usually, she goes for a nude lip, but today she's  wearing red 'cause some fan accounts on Twitter said she looked good with it.

And she trusts her fans.

“Yeah, you look hot,"  Normani says, and she gives Lauren one of her overly flirtatious winks  so Lauren knows she really means it.

"Is my hickey covered?”

“Dinah, what the fuck?” Lauren is taken aback. “Who the fuck did you hook up with?”

“Watch your fucking language,” Normani tells her. Lauren looks at Dinah pointedly, waiting  for an answer., but Dinah looks away, blushing slightly. “I- uh- um,  never mind. I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Lauren sighs and sinks  down into one of the plastic chairs in their dressing room. “God, even  you’re getting more action than me.”

Normani laughs. “If you really want some 'action’, Laur, I’m right here.”

“Ugh, that’s gross."  Lauren reaches for the tube of red lipstick and chucks it at Normani's  face. "I’m not a fucking lesbian. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

She misses the way Normani’s lips quirk down in annoyance and the slightly hurt look on Dinah’s face.

“Okay, cool it with the homophobia,” Normani mutters.

Lauren’s eyebrows crease. “I’m not homophobic. Dude- just because I’m not gay doesn’t mean I don’t like gay people.”

“Yeah, I know, I've  heard your Twitter rants, babe. I’m just saying a lot of the stuff you  say whenever people bring up you possibly being gay kind of sounds like  you doth protest too much.”

“I don’t-”

“You’re being a little defensive,” Dinah adds bluntly.

“I’m. Not. Gay.” Lauren gets it out through clenched teeth. “Can we just drop it?”

Normani throws her head  back and exhales. “Yeah, sure. Sorry, Laur. You know we just bug you  sometimes because we care about you, right?”

“Yeah.” Lauren softens at both Normani’s tone and Dinah’s irresistible puppy dog eyes. “I love you guys.”

Normani rolls her eyes. “Bring it in, bitch.”

The three of them come  together in a tight hug. Lauren, being the shortest, starts giggling at  getting caught under Dinah’s arm, and all of a sudden they’re all  cracking up and falling all over each other.

Lauren knows they disregard things too much. They sweep topics like Lauren's  over-defensive nature when it comes to… certain topics… under the  rug. But in the end, they’re a team, and they don’t let “petty” things-  things like that- come between them.

They would never survive in this industry if they did.

-

WATTPAD: seattlhe