#your pain is my burden to bear AU

[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 013 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. modern royal au. infidelity. slight angst. toxic characters & toxic relationships. 18+. smut (nothing explicit.) unedited. suggestive. fluff. alcohol consumption.

notes. feedbacks / reblogs/ comments are appreciated <3 ALSO!! i am very bad at describing places (i tried my best) but just so you guys can visualize things better, i included photos of where this chapter took place at the end of the fic

wc. 12.1k

series masterlist 

[ THIRTEEN ] it hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you. i’ve done the math, there’s no solution. we’ll never last – why can’t i let go of this?

“Rin,” you stopped his hands from going any further, your fingers closed around his. He paid you no mind as he merely flicks your hands away. The top three buttons of your blouse have already been popped open, the white lace of your bra visible to his eyes. They visibly darkened with lust. Grasping his hand again, you held him tighter this time around, preventing him from exposing you to him. “Rin, please. Stop.”

Rintaro finally stopped. His fingers froze in the air, his thumb caressing the button like he’s fighting back an itch to completely rip your blouse apart. Maybe on another day, you would’ve found his hunger to be flattering. But not here, not in the middle of nowhere, and definitely not when he smelled like smoke. Not when he smelled like all the horrible things he’d gotten from her.

Cocking his brow, he leant back at the hood of his car. He stared up at you, his pretty eyes narrowed into slits.

“What? You don’t want me to touch you?”

You vehemently shook your head no. You awaited it – some sort of angry response from him. It wasn’t often you rejected his advances, but it was written crystal clear on your face: he made you uncomfortable. He found it sickening, how you looked at him like he was some vermin.

“Fine,” he spat out, rounding the vehicle as he opens his door. “Get in the car.”

“But… I can’t just leave–”

“I’ll have someone take care of it. Get. In. The. Car.”

You glance back at your car. Kuroo’s cellphone was still inside, along with your gun engraved with your family crest. If anyone were to peek inside, it wouldn’t be far to assume that you were out to kill someone. Not to mention, it was your private vehicle, not the Palace’s issued ones. Quickly, you raise a finger to Rintaro and ask him to wait, running back to your car before slipping the phone inside your pockets. In less than a minute, you’d opened the passenger’s seat and buckled the seatbelt.

The silence was painful.

There’s nothing but the smooth hum of the car’s engine, the rhythmic tapping of Rintaro’s hand against the wheel. He didn’t bother turning the radio on, and you were too lost staring at the trees whizzing by to strike up a conversation. There were too many things to ask, too many answers that demanded your attention, and so little time for it all. You wanted him to break the silence first, until sleep beat you to it. With the clock reading half an hour past four, you found yourself nodding off, shaken awake by the constant road bumps ahead.

Six am.

You straightened your back. The scenery had shifted from the dense forestry. Beside you, Rintaro looked half-awake, cracking his neck from side to side.

You watched as the gentle fingers of dawn painted the sky in hues of rose and gold. With the car travelling along the coastal road, you glanced sideways, captivated by the mesmerizing vista unfolding before your eyes. You’d seen the sea before, but never at this time – never when the sun was beginning to stretch its arms as if to embrace it. The sea, that of liquid sapphire, shimmered under the first light of day, each tiny, soft wave crested with a translucent luminescence – something both haunting and mysterious that made it hard to look away. It was deep and bewitching, like it would whisper to you the secrets of the deep if you looked close enough.

Rolling the windows down, you gazed at the horizon – right where the ocean kissed the sky, and birthed with it the symphony of color. Pastels of pink and lavender blended into a cerulean blue. The sun, a radiant gem emerging from its slumber, cast a golden path across the water and shimmered across the ripples, inviting the soul to wander its glittering trail. You felt the need to reach out to it – to skirt your fingers across the horizon, wondering if somehow the sea could drown you in its beauty and your pain could be forgotten.

As the car cruised along, your eyes remained transfixed on the sea. Drawn to its endless, vast rhythmic dance of a push and pull. The waves rolled in a timeless cadence, their gentle roar a comforting lullaby. Each surge and retreat of the water mirrored your own steady breaths – in and out – a silent meditation that made you feel as if everything was almost okay.

Through the open window, the scent of salt and the crispness of morning air filtered through. It filled the car with the essence of the sea, masking the scent of Rintaro’s stumped cigarette. For a moment, you were filled with a profound sense of peace. A moment of stillness amid the journey. The sea, with its infinite expanse and eternal ebb, seemed to hold all the answers. It wasn’t like Itachiyama whose beauty brought calmness to your soul and silenced all your fears. It was entirely a beauty of itself, one that haunted you and prodded at your bones, picking your soul apart and gently sewing back them together.

Like an unstoppable force, like watching a car crash into another – it was hard to take your eyes off of it.

“Where are you taking me?” you broke the silence after a while, choosing to keep the windows rolled down. Beside you, Rintaro spared you a quick glance before turning his eyes back to the road.

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

Nodding, you propped your chin onto your arm. Now that you were awake, the events from the past few hours finally caught up to you. The meeting with Kuroo, Atsumu’s sex tape, being chased by Rintaro, and your call not reaching Kiyoomi – Kiyoomi. Gods. He must be so worried. But your phone’s battery died long ago, and there was a bigger matter at hand – Rintaro’s accusation, and the way he’d hid his hurt with a smirk.

It was a side of him you’d never seen before.

Sure, he’d been angry when you did anything that concerned Iris, or when you left for Itachiyama after his displeasure about it. But this time, he looked more hurt than angry, as if he couldn’t believe you would go so far.

You rolled the windows up. The sounds of the humming of the car and the breeze slipping through muted.

“Rin,” you mumbled, toying with your fingers in your lap. “I didn’t try to kill you, you know.”

Your husband snorted. “Oh, you didn’t? Could’ve fooled me. It’s not every day you see your wife’s new maid slipping something in my drink, but if you truly did not have anything to do with it, then I guess it’s safe to assume your maid is out to assassinate me,” grip tightening on the wheel, he forced himself to exhale through his nose. “Do you deny this?”

“Airi has nothing to do with this.”

“Do enlighten me, then, because I don’t know what to think of you anymore,” he gritted his teeth, and you were shocked into silence. It was quite the confession coming from him. “I have made mistakes. Many of them. I have hurt you, again and again, but do you really wish to end my life?” he shot you a look, only to turn his head away – staring out into the sea before you. You wondered if it’s because he couldn’t stand to look at you, or he didn’t want you to see whatever might show in his face.

“I didn’t think you could be so cruel, Princess.”

Your face fell, the light in your eyes dimming as his words sunk in. “I told her to crush some sleeping pills in your tea so I could sneak out without you noticing. I wasn’t trying to ‘kill’ you.”

“And where would you go without me? A lady like you should never leave the castle premises unsupervised,” he reminded, the edges of his lips curling into a dissatisfied smile. “Unless you don’t want me knowing who it is you’re meeting.”

Sighing, you let your head drop to your hands. “Enough with the accusations, Rin. How many times do I have to tell you I have never cheated on you?” you rolled your eyes at him, your arms crossed to your chest, irked. “If you really must know, I met up with Kuroo Tetsurou – yes, the man who wrote that article about your tryst and ruined your reputation. You know what I did? I paid him to disappear from this country, and to completely erase any traces of what he’d written. I did it for you. I did it because I no longer want to see you suffering from the hands of another, so don’t you dare go around treating me like I’m your enemy, because at the end of it all, I’m the only one on your side. Do you understand?”

It was a half lie, but a white lie in your defense. The end would justify the means. Rintaro didn’t have to know the whole truth, not when there was a chance he’d ruin your plans. He only needed to let his guard down, to completely trust you on this because that last part you would not lie about.

He could hurt you – take your heart and crush it until there was nothing left. But it would not change the fact that you were his wife, and he your husband. It wouldn’t change the fact you were bound by vows you’d spoken in front of Her Majesty, in front of the Gods they worshipped in a sacred chapel. You would never, and could never, go as far as to make Rintaro detestable in the eyes of others. He was yours to hate and love. No one else could take that right away from you. He simply wasn’t for the world to pick apart.

Silence clouds the car. With a quick glance, you saw his grip loosening on the steering wheel, his shoulders visibly relaxing as his brows pinched together. “You did that… for me?”

You scoffed. “You have no idea the things I would do for you.”

“Then why keep it a secret from me? I would’ve gone with you. I could’ve sorted it out myself.”

“You couldn’t. You’ve barely been touching any of your work ever since the scandal happened,” you pointed out, holding your hand up to flash him your ring – the one you never dared took off, not even in the shower, and especially not when Kiyoomi had been nudging his way into your heart. “I’m your wife. I promised to share the burden of the crown with you. If a time comes that you’re unable to handle the troubles coming your way, then I will step in and do it for you.”

Rintaro blinked rapidly, as if clearing away the images that troubled him. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, “I’m just… You said you hated me, and that you regretted marrying me. So when I saw Airi mess with my tea, I immediately thought you wanted me out of your life.”

You looked out the window. Pursing your lips, you couldn’t help but think to yourself – if only it were that easy.

“You’re my husband. I would be devastated if you died.”

Rintaro drove around for a few more minutes before finally arriving in a gated community. Although community was a stretch, considering there were no other houses around. Not a single person could be seen. The entire beach was closed off from that point on. He wouldn’t answer any of your questions either, simply smiling to himself as he drove past a grove of trees until you broke through – the sounds of the waves audible and muted, as if they were from a distance. Before you stood a large white mansion, hidden by the tall trees, but peeking just enough to be highlighted by the golden dawn.

“We’re here,” Rintaro announced, bouncing out of his seat to run around your side and open the door for you. You couldn’t help but snicker at his sudden chivalry. Nevertheless, you slipped your hand into his, following him as he led you to the pebbled walkway leading up into the house. “I bought this beach for us.”

“Rin, you can’t do that. The beaches should be open to the public.”

Rintaro squeezed your hand. There was a lightness to his step, almost as if he was floating through air – or maybe your reassurance had simply made his body feel lighter. “Indulge me a little, wife. Let me show you around first, and if you really don’t like it… then I’ll put it up for sale, okay?”

You couldn’t argue with that. It was hard to, anyway, when he struggled to open the doors as he refused to let go of your hand. After fumbling for the keys, he finally got them in and pushed the doors open.

You could see much from where you stood. At the break of dawn, the sun’s first golden rays began to dance across the tranquil surface of the sea, casting a gentle, shimmering glow that greeted the grand beach house with a tender embrace.

The luxurious abode, with its elegant arches and expensive terraces, stood proudly against the backdrop of the awakening sky. Its hues of pink and orange melded seamlessly into the lingering blue of the night. Your eyes widened, watching as the colors bounced off the water and reflected back onto the sturdy white pillars of the house’s exterior. The soft, ambient light illuminated its exquisite architecture, revealing intricate details and the soft contours of its stone façade.

Stepping onto the grounds for the first time, you let your hands run through the textures of the pillars, feeling its smoothened out surface. 

The house, a vision of opulence and warmth, beckoned you with its ethereal allure. Each window and glass wall, strategically placed, welcomed the sunrise with open arms, allowing the light to flood the interior spaces with a radiant glow. The reflections danced upon the surface of the pristine pool outside, playful patterns dancing along the walls and the ceiling. It made the entire house seem alive with its morning gentle touch.

You felt your breath get caught in your throat – stunned by the beauty of it all.

You moved towards the edge of the expansive backyard, where the manicured lawn stretched out like a verdant carpet leading directly to the soft sands of the secluded beach. The sound of the waves, a soothing melody, called out to you. It mingled with the rustling leaves of the palms that framed the house. The air, crisp and salty, invigorated your senses and filled you with a sense of profound peace and connection.

Unbeknownst to you, Rintaro was drunk on your expressions. He lit up each time you smiled at a corner, his heart blooming and swelling he felt it would burst out of his chest. For one of the few times in his life, he felt proud of himself.

“I bought this mansion a year after I started courting you,” he said, his gaze transfixed on the way your hands were still intertwined. It caused him to trail after you like a lost puppy; not that he minded. He just liked being here with you. With that thought in mind, he absentmindedly caressed your wedding ring with the pads of his thumb. “I didn’t have concrete plans in mind yet, but I knew I would end up marrying you someday, and the Palace didn’t seem like a good place for us to enjoy our married life. But here… we can live separately from the rules imposed on us. Here, we are not Princess or Prince. It could just be the two of us.”

You bit your lip, your heart hesitant. It fluttered at the sincerity of his words, swooned at the revelation he’d been planning this for years. You could imagine it – Rintaro walking through this property a year into your courtship, the young Prince nodding to himself because he just knew this place would be yours.

“It’s still mostly empty, of course. I didn’t want to decorate it without asking for your opinions, and I figured maybe you’d want to take the lead in that area,” he encouraged with a smile.

And really, who could say no to that? When he gave you such a beautiful house and handed you the reigns to do as you pleased, then you would turn this house into something you could call your home.

Every detail of the beach house was meticulously designed for both grandeur and intimacy. The spacious terraces offered the perfect setting for private dinners and joyful gatherings with family and friends, promising countless evenings of laughter and love under the starlit sky. You could already envision long, leisurely breakfasts on the balcony, the sea’s gentle murmur a constant, comforting presence.

You would sip your morning coffee in your nightgown, reading the newspaper, or letting your eyes close as you let the sea breeze gently wake you up from the remnants of your slumber. Behind you, your husband would sneak up in nothing but his sleep shirt, his voice deep and croaky with sleep laced to it. He would wrap his arms around your waist, coo good morning in your ears as he buried his face on the crook of your neck.

It was the perfect house to live the married life in.

The moment is too beautiful that it let the walls you’d put up slowly crumble. It gave way for your mind to entertain the thought of hope, of second chances, of a life where Rintaro apologized for everything he did and you forgave him for it. A life where he finally left Iris behind, and moved in here with you – being a loving husband and wife like he’d promised.

Regardless of his mistakes, you couldn’t deny he chose this haven with care.

He understood your yearning for a sanctuary that felt both majestic and personal. You could see his vision in every corner of the house – in the way the morning light filled the rooms, in the carefully carved openness that invited the outside world to become part of your home, and in the promise of countless memories waiting to be made within its walls.

“It’ll get very bright here in a few minutes,” he murmured, his voice echoing through the spacious expanse. “I know you hate dark places, so I wanted something that had a lot of room for sunlight.”

You hummed. “That was thoughtful of you.”

“I only had you in mind when I was looking for our place.”

Tugging at your hand, you let Rintaro drag you upstairs and show you around. “This is our bedroom,” he gestured, and you stepped inside, glancing back at him and down at your intertwined hands in a silent query. Rintaro smiled, nodding as he gently let go of your hand to let you look around the room.

Taking small, careful steps away from him, you let your eyes take in the sight before you. The room was a sanctuary of tranquility, bathed in the soft, warm hues of the rising sun. The bed, dressed in crisp white linens with accents of deep red, invited you to sink into its comfort. Candles flickered softly on a low, modern nightstand, casting a gentle, ambient glow that complemented the natural light streaming through the expansive glass wall.

The true masterpiece, however, was the view.

The entire far wall of the room was made of glass, offering an unobstructed vista of the ocean beyond. Palm trees gently swayed in the morning breeze, framing the horizon perfectly.

You moved closer to the glass, your heart swelling with awe and contentment. Outside, on the spacious terrace, two elegant lounge chairs awaited, promising peaceful mornings and serene evenings spent with the one you loved. The lush greenery surrounding the room blended seamlessly with the view, making it feel as though you lived in harmony with nature.

“Want to see the best part?”

You giggled. “You mean to tell me something could get better than this?”

“Of course. You know I’m only choosing the best for you.”

Leading you into another room at the end of the hall, Rintaro smirked – proud and barely holding back his excitement as he swung the door open. As you stepped inside, a gasp of pure delight escaped your lips – followed by bubbling laughter in disbelief.

The morning sun streamed through the grand, arched windows, casting a warm, golden light that danced sprightly across the room. The room seemed almost enchanted, a perfect blend of nature and comfort, invite you to lose yourself in your own world and let the time pass you by.

Towering bookshelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with volumes of all kinds, promising endless hours of exploration and discovery. The rich, earthy scent of aged paper and polished wood filled the air, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. A graceful spiral staircase wound its way up to a second level, where more books awaited, their spines gleaming in the soft light.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to the cozy seating area, where a plush of sofa beckoned you to sink into its depths and get lost in a story. The soft, muted colors of the cushions and throws added a touch of warmth, making the space feel lived-in and inviting. A quaint reading lamp stood nearby, ready to cast its gentle glow over late night reading sessions. Behind you, you could hear Rintaro move through the room as well – gently picking up knick-knacks placed along the way.

“–And here is your reading corner, or… whatever you’d like it to be really. If you want to crochet, or paint with Tobio, you can use this room.”

“I thought you said this place was empty,” you joked, gazing up at the myriad of books displayed.

“Yes, it is,” smiling to himself, he leant against the wall and crossed his arms across his chest, content to let you indulge yourself by exploring. “But I made sure to fill this place up first, as I figured this would be the room you’d spent the most time in. I went ahead and collected all the books I know you liked, along with other things I thought you would enjoy.”

There it was again – the thumping of your heart over his words.

It was too easy to get carried away, especially when Rintaro was being unnecessarily sweet. It almost felt as if… nothing was wrong at all. And for a moment – just for now – you let yourself forget everything and focused on the present. With your heart tucked and hidden away for safety under your sleeve, you pointedly averted your gaze from your husband. You knew you wouldn’t be able to handle seeing him like that – content, unguarded, with hooded eyes watching you tenderly. Like he was in love with you, and he meant it when he said he wanted no one else to spend his future with.

You turned your attentions back to the room, the lush greenery that adorned the space, with ferns and potted plants that brought a taste of the outside world in.

You could already imagine yourself curled up on the sofa with a book, the sounds of the waves gently crashing in the background, or perhaps sitting by the window on a rainy day – the patter of raindrops providing a soothing soundtrack to your literary adventures.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell in adoration, even as you tried so hard to fight against it.

The Prince had carefully curated this heaven for you. He’d ensured you could have a space where you would spend countless mornings in, a cup of tea in hand, watching the sun rise over the horizon. Afternoons would be spent exploring the vast worlds in the many books that lined the shelves, each one a new journey waiting to be embarked upon.

This reading room was more than just a space; it was an escape from the world. A place where you could retreat and recharge, surrounded by the things you loved most. As you stood there, bathed in the soft morning light, you were bombarded by a mix of emotions – an internal debate whether to feel elated or depressed.

How could someone know you so well, and still hurt you in the process? Love truly was a dangerous thing.

However, you pushed that thought out of your mind. You did not want any arguments tainting this space, this home. Rintaro’s efforts didn’t deserve to be shattered, either. You would save it for another time. For now, you would explore every inch and corner of this house. “And here’s the backyard – plenty of space for our future kids to play in. I’m thinking twins, one boy and one girl, and then we’ll stop trying for another. Two little devils should be enough. The boy needs to be the eldest though, so he can protect his little Princess,” his eyes lit up, and you can see it already.

Rintaro must’ve seen it, too – the scene of your children running around, chasing other. Your little boy would be screaming at the top of his lungs, your little girl blowing bubbles as her hair bounced around her cute little face with each tiny step she took. If she ever tripped, her brother would immediately be there for her. He’d cradle her soft cheeks in his equally small hands, wiping her tears away and telling her it’d be okay. And then they would run to their parents for comfort – Rintaro would bring them into his arms, pressing kisses to their foreheads before he brought them back to their mama. Then, you’d pull out the first-aid kit, plastering band-aids on every scraped knee and kissing all the boo-boos away.

It was a beautiful thing to imagine. Letting your kids grow up in a beautiful place, with a loving father who would stop at nothing to ensure their happiness, building a family.

It put a smile to your face. “You do know I can’t control who comes out first, right?”

“Yes, but a man could dream,” he shrugged and faced your way, his eyes softening as he scanned your face. You didn’t know why Rintaro looked so beautiful in that moment. The picture perfect image of a Prince Charming, his hazel eyes seeing things you couldn’t, his smile hesitant yet hopeful. “I hope our little girl looks like you. She’d be very pretty just like her Mom.”

Heat rushed at the nape of your neck. It was a flood of emotions all at once – flustered, flattered, frustrated.

You immediately pointed your body in a different direction. Sliding the glass doors aside, you kicked off your heels and sunk your feet into the grass. It was a much needed reprieve after walking and driving for hours with those darned heels. Soon enough, you could hear Rintaro trailing behind you – a quick, curious glance letting you know he’d picked up your heels, your shoes dangling on his crooked fingers.

“Can we have a dog?”

“We could have a dog,” he grinned, and then gestured for you to come follow him. Feet sinking into the sand, your hands found solace in his bicep. Rintaro practically puffs up with male pride the moment your nails sunk into his skin. It was silly, enough to make you roll your eyes, but you kept on walking and walking – the sounds of sand crunching beneath your feet and the delicious warmth emanating from your husband a great way to start the morning. Eventually, you’d made it to the front of the house, where the crystalline pool stood just before the sea announced its presence.

“And in the beachfront, well, we could do pretty much anything. Barbecue, invite friends over for dinner. Oh, and there’s a wine cellar in the basement. I think I had that filled up, too. Do you want to have a quick drink before we go?” Shaking your head at him, Rintaro nods, gnawing at his lip before he decides – fuck it – and finally lets his hand rest on top of yours.

The position was oddly intimate. You weren’t embracing each other, yet you’d never been so close to him before. Your sides pressed against one another, your hand curled onto his arm, with his large, veiny hands caressing yours. It’s a little too perfect, and it makes you just a little too in love. Unable to help it, and drunk in the serenity of it all, you let your head fall back to his shoulder. Eyes closed, breaths shallow – your heartbeat in sync with his.

Thump, thump, thump. The schwaa of the waves. The whoosh of the wind.

It was like heaven on earth.

Above you, Rintaro cleared his throat. “So? What do you think? Is it to your liking? If it isn’t, I could always look for a different house–”

“It’s beautiful, Rin. Thank you.”

“You like it?”

“I love it,” you told him, opening your eyes to smile up at him, your cheek still smooshed against his broad shoulders. “It’d be a perfect home for us.”

“O-Okay,” he blushed, averting his gaze from you as he stared at the sea instead. The motion made you chuckle. It wasn’t always Rintaro could be such a flustered, affected man, but you adored the rare times when he was. Just then, an idea popped up in your head and you grinned, tapping his shoulder with your nails.

“Hey. Why don’t we have a little housewarming party to make it feel more like home?”

“We can?”

“We can do whatever we want, Rin,” you reminded him, and then scrunched your nose as you thought of the whole process. Furniture shopping, talking with interior designers, adding your personal touch, bringing in some of your most important things to this beach house that was literally miles away from the Palace. “–Although decorating it would take a lot of time and you must be busy–”

Rintaro’s eyes widened in panic. “I’m not busy. Well, I am, but I’ll make time. Let’s – Let’s decorate. I want to turn this into our home, too.”

You squeezed his bicep, warmth flooding your senses.

As you wandered through the house, your heart swelled with love and gratitude. The beach house wasn’t just a place to live in; it was a dream woven into reality. A testament to the life you would build together. Standing there, bathed in the tender embrace of the sunrise, you felt an unbreakable bond to this place, knowing that it would be the backdrop to your love story – however complicated it may be – a place where you both would grow, laugh, and find solace in each other for the years to come.

For the next few months following your arrival, you and Rintaro dedicated yourselves to transforming the beach house into a true home. It was a long, arduous process – infusing every corner with your touch, and Rintaro with his love for knick-knacks. Countless mornings were spent wandering through local markets, hand in hand, searching for pieces that spoke to you – the future you would create.

It was a great opportunity to fool the media, too, a silent declaration to the world that your marriage would not be swayed by petty rumors.

Well, they were not just rumors, but the Queen seemed ardently pleased by the amassed support.

Rintaro, suddenly the considerate partner and doting husband, would often pause to hold up a delicate vase or an intricately carved wooden sculpture, his eyes seeking your approval. You, in turn, would smile and nod, trusting his impeccable taste and loving the way he always seemed to know what would make your heart sing.

It was as if he knew what you’d like before you even said it out loud. Maybe it was because he’d spent two years of his life courting you that he now knew you like the back of his hand.

Whatever it was, the media ate it up. The article regarding his cheating scandal eventually became nothing but measly gossip. You remained in contact with Kuroo, however, his article about Iris only waiting to drop at your signal.

It should’ve been released months ago. You could’ve ruined her already, snatched your husband back right under her nose – you just couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not when she’d been pointedly avoiding Rintaro, and your husband was acting like he forgot she existed. Could it be both of them couldn’t handle the criticism, after all? Did they care more about their reputations and image than their ‘passionate love affair’?

But then again, neither of them wanted to be exposed for their trysts.

It was all Atsumu’s doing.

And that actress – poor Hiroda Yuki – still remained oblivious to the sex tape you hid under your closet. A secret you would bury there forever, a secret you’d take with you to your grave. You hadn’t heard news of her getting knocked up, and her career was still soaring. For now, you had nothing to worry about. It seemed peaceful – for now.

In the meantime, you dedicated your afternoons in the arrangement and rearrangement of everything you’ve collected – snow globes from your trips overseas with your parents, Rintaro’s random collection of weapons and key chains from his own adventures. The living room, with its expansive glass walls and view of the endless ocean, became a canvas for you to experiment with. There were no rules here.

You placed a soft, oversized rug in the center, its deep blues and greens echoing the colors of the sea. Comfortable chairs and sofas were positioned to invite conversation and relaxation, while vibrant cushions and throws added splashes of color and warmth. You insisted on color, ensuring that the beach house had to be vibrant and thrumming with life. You refused to let it be like the Palace – dull yet overwhelming with all its arching marble statues and golden chandeliers.

And then the dining area, envisioned as the heart of your home, where family and friends would gather, received special attention. You chose a large, rustic wooden table, its surface polished to a warm glow. Around it, you placed mismatched chairs (which greatly bothered Kiyoomi when you sent him photos), but you told him that each had its own story and character. The space was an organized mess, eclectic yet coherent. Above the table, Rintaro hung a chandelier of delicate glass orbs that cast a soft, magical light during evening meals.

The master bedroom was a different tale itself. It was the room you and Rintaro spent the most time on. You established several rules before proceeding, drilling it into his head that:

Rule no. 1: He was not allowed to bring any women inside. (He scoffed at it, offended, but agreed anyway.)

Rule no. 2: Lavender essential oils were the only scents allowed. Vanilla scents were forbidden. (He didn’t understand why you were so vehemently against it, but again – whatever makes the wife happy, was what he said. That alone made you question… did he not know what Iris smelled like? He knew all your favorite perfumes by heart, yet could not recognize the distinctness of vanilla? You quickly dropped the subject.)

And finally, Rule no. 3: No arguments inside the bedroom.

(Rintaro was barely able to hide his shock at you suggesting it. His eyes widened for a moment, an expression he quickly schooled into that of nonchalance. “Of course,” he’d said, “Any conversation that may require a debate will always be had outside. Never here.” To which you replied, “Never here, Rintaro. This is our space. We will not be enemies here.)

There it was, the master bedroom, a sanctuary of tranquility and intimacy. Soft, sheer curtains were chosen to filter the morning light. The bed was adorned with luxurious linens and a variety of textured pillows, making it a perfect retreat after long days spent exploring the island or entertaining the guests you would have over.

Personal touches, like framed photographs of your wedding, and the candid ones he’d taken of you each time he called for you in the Yuzuru Estate, were placed on the nightstands.

All that was left was to invite his brothers over for the housewarming party.

You and Rintaro decided to keep it a secret for now. After all, it wasn’t every day that the brothers all gathered together for dinner outside the Palace. You debated inviting the Queen over, too, but after that recent fiasco and her snide remarks about your mother, you were heavily against it. Rintaro, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. He just wanted to spend time with his brothers – saying they’ve never done that before. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late for them to rekindle their brotherhood.

It sounded like an absurd idea at first, you admitted. You didn’t have to go so far to help your husband get along with his own brothers, but whether you liked it or not, you were married – and marriage often came with demanding responsibilities.

Of course, there was still the issue of Iris: would she be invited or not?

You gauged it for the first few weeks. Waiting, listening, and watching with a careful eye on how Rintaro would be acting. You’d also piloted the agenda, peering over it like a hawk to see if he would sneak in a thing or two. Or maybe he had a room for her. But – much to your surprise – there was none. There were exactly nine guest rooms; one for each brother and their wife, and one for the Queen or your parents, whoever wanted to visit.

Still, it made you turn your nose upwards.

You didn’t fancy the thought of Kiyoomi sharing a room with Iris. In fact, the image of them sharing the same bed was enough to make your stomach turn upside down. But knowing Kiyoomi? He’d probably make her sleep on the floor than be anywhere near her.

Finally, after some finishing touches, you both sent out the invitations.

The housewarming party was an intimate, private event. It was challenging at first – their schedules did not align with each other, and Prince Wakatoshi was not warming up to the idea. However, his son, Wakashi, badly wanted to see the sea. That was all it took before he’d agreed, and soon, even the busybody Shinsuke accepted the invitation – with the promise Airi could also come.

Pride bloomed in your chest. It seemed like an impossible feat at the beginning, gathering all the Princes into one place. But they’re all here now – Keiji was reading books to Wakashi, Tobio is playing beach volleyball with Tooru, Rintaro, and Atsumu. Osamu declined his brothers’ invitation as soon as he caught sight of your kitchen, pushing past his blond-haired twin and declaring that your kitchen was now his. You all laughed about it, and Osamu hasn’t left since.

Wakatoshi was there in your living room, cuddled up on the couch with his wife, Camilla. They both snoozed in peace, lulled by the Princes’ distant shouts and yells from their game. Behind them, Shinsuke crouched over the paperwork he’d brought with him, Airi happily gazing at her Prince as she wiped glasses and silverware.

Kiyoomi and Iris, for some reason, did not participate in any of the activities. The Second Prince has worn a stormy expression the moment he parked his car, his wife in tow. Iris didn’t look great either – her face pale and lips chapped.

You made a mental note to ask him about it later. For now, you would enjoy yourself.

Stepping out of the living room, you walked past the pool and to the beach. The Princes were still playing on a 2v2, Tobio and Tooru on one team, Rintaro and Atsumu on the other. As you got there, your sundress puffing up from the wind, you noticed Maiko was already on one of the lawn chairs – smiling fondly at her husband who scored once more.

You followed her gaze. Now that was a sight, indeed. All the Princes were shirtless – their muscles rippling with each jump or aggressive spike of the ball. They’d already been tanned after playing under the sun for hours, their healthy golden glow illuminated by the setting sun. Rintaro himself had you struggling to look away. Wearing sun shades, a black compression arm sleeve, and his shorts hanging low on his hips – it suddenly felt hot despite the breeze.

Shaking your head to yourself, you tore your gaze away from him and sat next to the Princess. “Maiko,” you greeted, handing her a watermelon juice.

“Your Highness!” she beamed, gladly accepting the drink and playing with the umbrella before she continued, “Thank you for having us over.”

“It was my pleasure,” Smiling, you watched her closely, not missing the way her cheeks flamed each time Tooru scored and he looked her way. The movement was subtle, barely noticeable from another’s eye, but it was clear in that moment it meant the world to Maiko. Beside you, the Princess hid her giddy smile behind her drink, her bare toes curling into the sand beneath you. “So. You and Tooru seem to have gotten along more.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t say that,” she scrunched her nose, “He was really worried for you, you know. He wouldn’t stop telling me how he was going to beat the Crown Prince up. And when that article went out…”

“We’ve moved past that.”

“You have?” she perked up, “I mean, that’s good. Have you forgiven him?”

You took another sip of your drink, and then snorted. “Of course not. But I think we’re at this point in our marriage where we’re pretending to be happily married, and it’s hard for me to not play my part,” when Maiko titled her head to the side, confused, you gestured to the grand abode behind you. “He’s bought me this house, helped me decorate it. We spent many nights talking about how we’d like it to be, and now we’re all here. His brothers, their wives – everyone is laughing and having fun. How could I ruin it by dwelling on the past?”

Maiko didn’t look entirely convinced. You couldn’t blame her – you weren’t very convinced yourself.

Things were going a little too smoothly for your liking. Until now, you still had your doubts that everything was suddenly okay, that Rintaro and Iris have suddenly decided to end their relationship. But you’d asked around, bribed the maids in Belleview Manor, and they all said the same thing.

Rintaro and Iris have not spoken to each other ever since your return.

It felt as if Rintaro had been sincere when he said he only slept with her because he felt lonely with you. A pathetic excuse, of course, something only an imbecile would fall for. But you’d long accepted that Rintaro was an oddity and complexity of itself.

The only way to truly understand him was to let him show all versions of himself, both the good and the bad, before you could see which one of him you could love the most.

And this Rintaro?

The loyal, caring husband who’d given you this home? The one who wouldn’t stop stealing kisses even when no one was looking? The one who proved to you that the master bedroom upstairs indeed had very soft, luxurious beds by fucking you in it all the way until the morning?

You liked that Rintaro very much.

“I’m always here for you,” Maiko said after a moment, her smile genuine as she gazed upon the secluded area. “The house is beautiful, by the way. I can see why you looked so happy ever since the Crown Prince showed this place to you.”

“It’s our home. It was the best thing he could’ve given me.”

Saying it loud felt like an accomplishment. Your mother had always told you that you would be great at managing your own house someday. It felt surreal to see with your own eyes that she’d been right.

“To be honest, I never expected I would have moments like this,” quipped Maiko, her smile wavering as she plucked out the cocktail umbrella. “Before I married Tooru, it was lonely in the Rai Estate. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father married the next woman who presented herself to him. Sometimes I think he did that because he wanted me to grow up with a mother, but my stepmother was never fond of me. It was a lonely childhood, I must admit,” she confessed with a sarcastic chuckle, lifting her head to stare at her husband. “But then Prince Tooru came along. The Queen started bringing him along whenever she visited my father, and the Prince and I would always have playdates. I remember I would cry each time they had to return to the Palace.”

You tipped your head to the side, curious. “The Queen brought Tooru to the Rai Estate?”

Maiko nodded. “Yes. You didn’t know? Her Majesty is my godmother,” she informed, absentmindedly spinning the ring on her finger. “She was close friends with my father, and they remained in contact even when she married the King. I’d say she was the closest I ever got to having a mother figure, but Her Majesty is too busy to waste her time looking after a little girl.”

“I see,” you murmured, and reached over to clasp her bare shoulder with a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry about your mother, Maiko. I hadn’t known she’d already passed.”

“It’s alright, not a lot of people mourned her death anyway. And people easily forgot she existed because my father remarried very soon,” she shrugged, a forlorn look crossing her sharp features. “My father said I don’t look like her. Sometimes, I think that fact made it easier for him to move on, because he never saw her in me.”

“Did your father love her?”

“Probably not. You know how marriages between nobles are; I wouldn’t be surprised if it was arranged. He never talked about her either, so I wouldn’t know.”

You hummed to yourself, “Does the Queen still visit Lord Rai?”

“Not lately, no. She got occupied handling the Kingdom’s affairs when His Majesty passed away, but they still send each other letters during birthdays. I’m not sure the Queen has written back to my father in a while, though,” as quickly as she said it, Maiko’s back straightened, her free hands waving frantically in the air. “Oh, I hope this doesn’t change the way you see me, Princess. I promise the Queen does not hold any special favors to me.”

“Not at all, Maiko. You’re still the same Princess in my eyes.”

“TAKE THAT!”

Both of your heads snapped in the Princes’ direction. Tobio, pumping his arms in the air as Atsumu tugged at his blond locks from the other side of the net. Tooru was running around – or more like bouncing – while your husband was down on one knee, panting heavily with sweat dripping down his chest.

Before you could process what was going on, Tooru bolted for Maiko’s direction, whooping and hollering as he picked her up and twirled her. Maiko’s squeal was lodged in her chest upon Tooru’s crushing hug. He kept spinning her, enough to have Maiko wobbly on her feet when he finally put her down, holding her at an arm’s length away as he exclaimed, “Did you see that? Rintaro couldn’t receive my serve!”

“It was just a lucky serve!” defended your husband.

“Yeah, right.”

Rintaro turned to you, his ears turning red as he stood up and dusted the sand of his abs. “It was a lucky serve.”

You put your hand up to your mouth, concealing your laughter. “I’m sure it was.”

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the horizon, the air buzzed with excitement and the scent of blooming flowers from the garden. The sound of waves crashing softly in the background added a serene rhythm to the lively conversations that flowed as effortlessly as the wine. The brothers, their bond evident in their playful banter and shared stories, mingled around the spacious terrace, their laughter mingling with the music that floated through the air.

You eventually left Maiko, seeing as the Princes did not have any plans on stopping their game anytime soon. You didn’t want to rush them into dinner either, not when Rintaro looked like he was having the time of his life.

Dusting sand off your dress, you took yours and Maiko’s empty glasses back inside. Airi and Osamu were still in the kitchen; the former smiling at you when you handed her the glasses, while Osamu remained elbow-deep in some dough. You left them soon to their devices, heading out of the kitchen when you nearly bumped into a firm chest.

“Hey.”

“Kiyoomi,” you blinked up at him, joy radiating from every pore now that he was here. Kiyoomi looked handsome in just his cream, short-sleeved linen shirt, his curls tousled and falling beautifully to frame his face. Until now, you were still beguiled by his striking beauty. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I heard you’d been occupied with some things in Itachiyama.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, and I would never decline an invitation from you,” he said softly, dipping his head so you could hear him better. His close proximity set your heart racing, and before you noticed it, you had your dress balled into your fists. “You did a great job with the place. It’s lovely.”

“Thank you,” you breathed out, voice light and airy as you gestured outside. “Are you not going to join your brothers in their game?”

Kiyoomi shook his head, a mischievous smirk gracing his handsome features. “If I did, then Rintaro’s team would lose.”

“Oh, are you a better player than him?”

“I’m better than him in all aspects,” he declared, offhandedly gesturing to their brother on the couch.  “Though I could never hit as hard as Wakatoshi. You should’ve seen him in his prime – he was a monster as long as he had the ball in his hands.”

“I didn’t know you played volleyball, too.”

“We used to play a lot when we were younger. Before duties called.”

You nodded, silently escorting him out of the kitchen. You could already feel Airi’s gaze burning holes at the back of your head. “How is Iris, by the way? I don’t think I’ve seen her around.”

“She said she wasn’t feeling well, so she’s been holed up in bed ever since,” informed Kiyoomi, scratching his cheek in thought. “Did she have a fight with Rin?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think… it’s because Rintaro is ignoring her, and she might be upset about that,” wrinkling your nose, you raised both hands in the air as a form of surrender. “But let’s not talk about unpleasant things. How was your trip to Itachiyama? And Kanami! How is she? I didn’t get to properly say goodbye to her last time.”

Kiyoomi’s lip twitched with amusement. “She’s fine, just a little mad that I took you home without informing her beforehand. She really wanted to spend more time with you.”

I didn’t want to leave either, you almost told him, biting back your tongue at the last moment.

Finding yourself alone with the older Prince, the air thickened with unspoken tension. A palpable static seemed to crackle between you two. Every glance exchanged was laden with unvoiced words, and every accidental touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. He stood close to you, his presence comforting and warm, yet an invisible barrier held you apart – neither brave enough to bridge the gap.

Your heart raced as you felt the weight of his presence beside you, the magnetic pull urging you closer. The silence was almost deafening – filled with the potential of what could be said, yet the fear of breaking it kept you mute.

Finally, Kiyoomi, with a nervous swallow and a shy, almost boyish smile, broke the silence.

“How was the meeting with Kuroo?” he began, his voice soft but trembling with the same tension you felt.

You told him everything without a detail to spare. Your words were hushed, voice barely above a whisper in case anyone accidentally walked in on you. Kiyoomi nodded as he took everything in, the tension on his shoulders increasing. “I see. Has he contacted you ever since?”

“The last message I got from him was from a few days ago. He says he’s got everything he needs – he’s just waiting for the green light.”

“So we’re just waiting for him to drop the bomb.”

“Practically, yes,” you agreed, when an idea formed in your head. Clapping your hands together, you tugged at Kiyoomi’s sleeve. “Actually, could you come with me? I wanted to show you something.”

Kiyoomi wasn’t able to say his response before you’re dragging him upstairs. You already knew the house like the back of your hand, confident you could navigate through it even with your eyes closed. Once you’d reached your destination, you swung the doors open – arms outstretched to show it off. “This is my reading corner, a library of sorts. And here–” you led him to a wall you’d intentionally kept empty, “–is your corner.”

“My corner?”

“Yes, you know, like how everyone has their own space in your library back at the farmhouse.”

“That’s a family house. This is your house with your husband.”

“Rintaro bought it because he wanted to have a safe space with his family, and you’re his brother. That makes you my family too, doesn’t it?”

Your smile was warm, sincere and elated upon presenting him his ‘corner.’ Kiyoomi couldn’t blame you for not noticing the fleeting hurt in his eyes, his disappointment quickly masked with a practiced, cordial nod.

“Family. Right,” he echoed, “I’ll make sure to add my own things someday here. Thank you.”

“FUCK YEAH!” roared Atsumu from below. All too quickly, the moment is broken. You and Kiyoomi stepped away from each other, both releasing a breath you didn’t noticed you held.

“I should go–”

“Of course,” Kiyoomi agreed, his nods a tad too hurried. He’s looking at everywhere but you now. “I’ll follow in a bit.”

You were hesitant to leave. It’d felt like forever since you’d last spoken to Kiyoomi. Ever since that night your call did not push through when Rintaro chased after you, Kiyoomi had been restless. He’d text you every morning and night, without fail, to reassure himself you did not come to harm. He was sweet – undeniably so – and it felt like a waste. Everything did. You couldn’t spend time with him, or speak to him freely like you did in Itachiyama anymore. Here, in Inarizaki, the cameras devoured everything you and Rintaro did.

It came without question you’d unknowingly distanced yourself from the Second Prince.

With a heart heavy of doubt, you exited the room. The last you saw of Kiyoomi was him slouched over his corner, his eyes closed and his head resting on his arm.

You skipped down the stairs, careful of the ankle-length of your sundress. The living room was already a mess when you got there – Atsumu was shaking Wakatoshi awake by the shoulders, screaming that he’d won against ‘stupid Tooru.’ Tooru, on the other hand, was being comforted by his wife, a pout permanent on his face.

“Hey,” an arm wrapped itself around your waist. Tensing, you quickly smiled when you saw it was just Rintaro – now dressed in a plain white button-up, the top three buttons left open to cool himself.

“Hey back.”

“Why didn’t you watch me play?”

You almost laughed at him. It was a comical sight – your tall husband slouching and pouting like a kicked puppy. Shaking your head at him, you let him pull you into an embrace, his arms engulfing you completely. You’re wholly warm like this, his head on top of yours, your cheek on his warm chest that’s still slightly damp with sweat.

“We have guests over, Rin. I have to make sure everyone’s settled.”

“But I played good,” he whines above you, his head dipping to playfully nibble at your ear. Rintaro crushes you in the embrace, your bodies pressed close enough that the growing tent in his trousers poked you through your sundress. Breath hitching, your tilted your neck to give him more access – warily looking out for onlookers. Thankfully, his brothers were all occupied with searching for snacks.

“I’m not inviting my brothers over next time. They take up too much of your attention.”

“Don’t be weird,” you teased, “I’m all yours tonight.”

Tipping your chin to look him in the eye, Rintaro presses a tender kiss at the insides of your wrist. “All mine for a lifetime, hopefully.”

“We’re married. I don’t think we have much of a choice in that aspect.”

When Rintaro smiled, his whole face lit up, his teeth flashing wickedly. Squeezing your waist, his eyes took in the warm, golden lights of your house. The bustling noise his brothers made, and the aroma of dinner being prepared. “We really outdid ourselves, huh. This place turned out better than I expected.”

You patted his firm stomach. “Should we all celebrate with some dinner?”

Nodding, Rintaro pressed a kiss to your forehead before disappearing in the kitchen. Atsumu followed not long after, complaining that ‘Samu was taking ‘too darned long’ preparing his food. You can’t help the smile making its way into your face. Rintaro was right; you really outdid yourselves. The night was a success – everyone was happy, and it finally felt like everything was normal.

“Nee-chan,” Tobio appeared before you, a towel wrapped around his neck. His grin is bright, cheeks flushed from the game and still breathing heavily. “Thank you for the party. I don’t think I’ve had this much fun before.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Tobio,” you beamed at him, watching from behind him as Wakatoshi shook his head at all the noise his brothers made – not missing the way his lips curled just the slightest when his son joined in on the joyous atmosphere.

“You should teach me how to play volleyball someday.”

“Of course!” Tobio said, a little eagerly. Just then, his eyes dimmed, his smile wavering as he approached you, a hand cupped at the sides of his mouth. “But sis… are you sure you’re okay with Rintaro? He seems oddly clingy to you today. If he bothers you, let me know, okay? I’ll beat him up. I’ll ask Shinsuke-nii to help me too–”

“Calm down. No one’s getting beaten up today. Let’s just enjoy dinner, alright?”

Tobio sulked, his shoulders closing in together with a frown. However, all that disappeared when Osamu and Airi appeared with dinner. Within minutes, all of you were situated in the long table. Everyone dug in, a mumbled ‘thanks’ and a quick prayer led by Wakatoshi.

Beside you, Rintaro squeezed your thigh before standing up. The scraping of his chair alerted everyone – multiple pairs of heads turning your way as he raised a glass.

“I wanted to make a toast – to thank everyone for coming despite their busy schedules. This home – our home – means the world to me, and there’s no one else but family who I’d rather share this moment with. I want to thank my wife, too, for bringing light into my life,” he gestured your way, causing a bout of sniggers coming from Atsumu. You rolled your eyes and decided to ignore him. “Also, I am very happy to announce that the scandal has been officially cleared. The writer of that article has left the country, and the media is no longer attacking me. I am officially an honorable man again.”

“To honor?” Osamu raised his wine with a snort, and everyone glared at him. “Oh, my bad, I thought that’s what we were toasting for.”

“Osamu,” warned Shinsuke.

“To good memories,” you announced, followed by a chorus of echoes, “And to family.” Pointing your drink in Kiyoomi’s way, the Prince raised his drink, his small smile hidden behind the glass.

“To family.”

As twilight deepened into night, the garden lights twinkled like stars, and the gathering moved inside to the cozy warmth of the living room. Stories and laughter continued late into the evening, the house filled with the comforting sounds of family and the promise of many more cherished moments to come.

It was a night of celebration, not just of a new home, but of the bonds that made it a true haven—a place where love, laughter, and the warmth of family would forever reside.

It was a moment you would cherish while it lasted.

Everyone headed straight for the wine cellar after dinner.

It caused a ruckus – half of the Princes were passed out drunk in their rooms, while the rest stayed up playing Mario Kart. It had been Tobio’s idea, and with Rintaro eagerly joining in, it soon turned into the competitive bout it was now. Whoever lost would skinny dip in the pool without turning the heater on.

You shook your head at their antics.

You cleaned up after everyone, Maiko and Camilla apologizing that they wanted to tend to their drunk husbands and couldn’t help. You quickly waved them away, unbothered. If anything, you appreciated how the noise slowly dissipated – leaving you alone with Kiyoomi who’d volunteered to help clean up. The silence is comfortable as you maneuvered around the dining room.

“Your Highness!” exclaimed Airi, wiping her hands on her apron as she rushed to you both. “Please, leave that behind, I’ll take care of it!”

As gently as you could, you snatched back the wet rug from her hands. “Airi, darling, you can go ahead and rest. I’ll take over here.”

“Oh but Princess, I could never! I’ll clean everything up–”

Kiyoomi smiled at her. “It’s okay, Airi. I’m sure Shinsuke’s been dying to talk to you, too,” Airi flushed red, causing the Prince to rumble in laughter beside you. “Go. We’ll handle this.”

“T-Thank you.”

Airi dashed upstairs, sending you both one last grateful glance before disappearing.

Guilt washed over you at the sight of her. Airi and Kita seemed to be happy together, but you knew the harsh reality that the chances of them working out were low. Not only was she a maid, but she had completely nothing to her name – no family, no college degree, and had a mouth that required dire control. At least here in the privacy of your home, they would receive no criticism, but as soon as you all returned home to the Palace… you sighed.

You couldn’t tell whether you were comforted at the thought you were not the only one suffering when it came to love.

You’re elbow deep in the sink washing the dishes, Kiyoomi at your side silently wiping the plates, when you remembered an empty seat at the table. “Iris didn’t come down for dinner. Should I bring her some leftovers?”

Kiyoomi grumbled, uninterested. “I’m sure she’ll come around once she’s hungry, and that should be soon. She’s had a mad appetite lately.”

Speaking of the devil, a light tap came from the countertops. You whipped your head at the soft, lilting voice. Iris stood a few feet away from you, a basket covered with red cloth held in front of her stomach. She looked sheepish; her brown hair falling down her in graceful waves, but her eyes were red and swollen, as if she’d been crying the entire time.

You snuck a glance at Kiyoomi, questioning, but he merely shrugged, turning his back to her and resuming with his task.

“Your Highness. May I speak with you?” her eyes darted to her husband’s figure, shifting from foot to foot. “Alone?”

“Of course. Excuse me for a moment,” bowing to Kiyoomi, you quickly washed your hands and followed Iris. She led you past the living room and out to the pools. The Princes’ shouts and banters became nothing but background noise. There, Iris situated herself in the picnic table under the willow tree, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“What is it you wanted to talk about?”

She nudged the basket your way, lifting the red cloth to reveal… pastries? “I baked these cookies for you this morning before we left the Palace. Please, have some. Consider it my peace offering.”

You fell silent. Mouth opening and closing as you searched for the right words, you settled for a forced smile. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

Iris gnawed on her lip, and dragged her chair closer to you. Much to your surprise, her hands landed on your knee, her big, green eyes pleading. “Listen, Princess, I know we got off on the wrong footing, and I really want to put that behind us and start new.”

“Uh,” you blinked back, “O-Okay?”

“I’m sorry for everything. I really am. I didn’t mean for Rintaro’s lies to drag on and go this far, and if you must know, I never supported him on his plan–”

“Why?” you didn’t mean for your words to come out harsh. But it did, and you tilted your head to the side, oddly calm as you asked, “Why don’t you support him? Don’t you want to be his?”

Iris’ bravado faltered for a minute.

“I-I did at one point. It gets tiring having to hide your relationship, you know? But his plans seemed too absurd to me, and it sounded impossible that he could achieve it.”

“Do you think he’s not fit to be King?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you implied,” you reiterated, scanning her face for answers – for the truth – when realization dawned on you. Leaning back, you flicked her hands away from your lap, lips curling in distaste. “You look down on him, Iris. You don’t think he’s a capable Prince at all.”

Iris clenched her jaw in an attempt to bite back a retort. “He has his many great qualities, but sometimes the Crown Prince loses touch of what is real and what is not,” she said, her placid tone betraying the fire burning in her eyes. “This is why I’m hoping we can be friends and start anew, Princess. I’m letting you know I’m breaking up with Rin. In fact, we have not been talking as of lately–”

“You fucked him in my bed lately. Do you really expect I would believe you?”

Her gaze was ice cold as it cut to you. “That was months ago, and he was the one who brought me there.”

“Let’s say he did. But who’s to say you did not seduce him beforehand?”

“He said his room felt lonely without you there, and he brought me for company. Don’t you realize, Princess? Your husband longs for you more than you know.”

Unable to help it, you chortled out a laugh. “What, are you saying he loves me?”

“He might,” she gritted her teeth, “But he needs to get over me first. That’s why I’m letting him go – you’re a kind person and you don’t deserve to be treated as second best. I’m putting my heart aside so you can finally enjoy your marriage.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re doing this for me? How very benevolent of you, Princess.”

“It’s really not that hard to believe I want you to be happy.”

You shook your head, refusing to believe it was this easy. “Why the sudden change of heart? Is it because you couldn’t handle being called a slut by everyone?”

“I am not a slut, nor am I a homewrecker. He loved me first, don’t you forget that,” she spat out, her words laced with poison. It had you narrowing your eyes at her, and the Princess cowered for a moment, dropping her gaze down her lap as she stumbled over what to say next. “But the truth is… I never loved him. Or if I did, it wasn’t to the point where I would throw away my marriage to him. I want stability, Your Highness, and my union with Kiyoomi provided me that. Stability, security, and power – I have it all. There’s nothing more I could possibly want.”

“Then why were you sleeping with my husband?”

Iris shut her eyes, her hands balled into fists at her lap. “Because my husband wasn’t around. He avoided me like the plague during the early stages of our marriage, and the Palace is too big a place for someone like me. I’m human, too. I got lonely. You cannot blame me for seeking out the warmth of another. He wasn’t yours during those times, so you can’t put this over our heads again and again.”

“You were using him,” you stated, shooting up from your seat. Kiyoomi had told you about it. Hell, even Maiko had an inkling their relationship was nothing but exploitative on Iris’ part, but hearing it coming from her – hearing how she used your husband like he was a mere toy or puppet for her to play with as she pleases… your blood boiled.

“You knew Rintaro was in love with you, and you took advantage of that. How could you?”

“Because he was there when no one else was.”

You stood rigidly, trying to quell the storm brewing within you. Fixing your gaze on the horizon, you avoided Iris’s eyes, afraid that even a fleeting glance would betray the torrent of emotions you fought to contain. Each breath was a deliberate effort to maintain your composure, your mind a battlefield of unspoken accusations and restrained fury.

Despite the turmoil, you held yourself with regal poise.

“I think I’m going to have a drink,” you decided, sending one last forced smile her way. “Care for some?”

Color drained from the Princess’ face. “No, I-I’m laying off the drinks for a while. I’ve never been a drinker anyway.”

You watched Iris from the corner of your eye, noting how she subtly used her arms to hug her stomach, her movements slow and deliberate. Since arriving at the beach house, Iris had looked unusually pale and sickly, her vitality drained. She kept her distance from Rintaro, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by everyone.

A wild thought flickered through your mind – could Iris be pregnant?

You quickly dismissed the idea, shaking your head, but the possibility lingered – filling you with a growing sense of dread. The realization settled in her chest like a heavy stone, the implications threating to unravel the fragile ‘peace’ between you all.

“Hmm.” You dug your nails to your palm, licking your lips as you tried to still your beating heart. “I think I’ll head to bed soon. Good night, Iris.”

“Princess,” Iris called out from where she sat, her beautiful face crestfallen and desperate. “Have you forgiven me? Can we be friends?”

“I’ll think about it.”

You headed back inside the house, your breathing growing shallower with each step you took. Faintly, you heard Rintaro’s concerned voice calling after you. You paid him no mind, taking two steps at a time as you pushed open the door to their shared bedroom.

Kiyoomi was already inside, in the middle of taking off his wristwatch when you came bustling in. Your name fell on his lips. You ignored him, too, heading for the bed with crumpled sheets from where Iris must’ve slept. You threw the pillows on the ground, the blankets balled and discarded to the side, as you looked for something – searched for answers. Her belongings all came crashing to the ground as you picked it apart one by one, hauling her suitcase from the drawer before kicking it to the floor.

“Princess,” Kiyoomi sounded worried, his hands coming up to reach for you when you slapped it away. Concern flashed over his face, more so when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes. “What’s wrong? What are you doing?”

“She’s hiding something. I know it.”

It didn’t take much effort to open her suitcase. Clothes, shoes, her makeup bag – you emptied it of its contents and felt around for any hidden zippers. None. It was empty, save for some unused tampons scattering right beneath your feet.

Your vision began to grow blurry.

Pushing past Kiyoomi, you dashed for the bathroom and knelt on the ground, opening the trash bin and digging through the heap of dry paper towels. You stared at it, confused. Why throw away perfectly good and unused napkins? Determined, you flipped the bin upside down. A white, thin object fell on the ground with a soft clink.

You reached for it with shaky hands.

It was a pregnancy test – one that read positive.

Behind you, you heard Kiyoomi’s sharp inhale. “It’s not mine,” his words faded into the background, “I never touched her.”

When you found the strength to speak, your voice came out weak and cracked.

“…I know you’re not the father.”

from the left: beach house → master bedroom → reading room

[lillithsalvatore]

million dollar man

pairing: royal!jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

summary: the price of loving a million dollar man, a prince

warning: modern royal au!, mention of cheating, angst, minor dni, cursing, asshole jace (?), cried. like and reblog are appreciated!! my 1st imagine, please be nice!!

---

"Did you fuck her, Jace? Answer me!" you demanded your soon-to-be-husband, your voice trembling with anger as you stared at Jace, eyes burning with rage. In your hand was a newspaper from a well-known publication, which you held up in front of him. A news about him with his 'childhood bestfriend'

When Jace finally confessed, nearly shouting, "Once, just once, and I fucking regreted it" your heart tightened. His admission felt like a powerful blow to the trust and pride you had invested in him. Your anger intensified, but beneath it all, a deep sadness began to take hold of your mind.

"Once?" You gave a bitter smile. "Even once is fucking enough to destroy everything we had, Jace."

Jace looked at you with regretful eyes, but that only made you feel more exhausted. "Do you know? I trusted you more than I trusted myself. And you betrayed that trust for a moment of weakness."

"Y/n…" Jace began, trying to approach you, but you raised your hand to stop him.

"Don't!" you choked out, but your voice remained firm. "Don't make this worse Jace”

You took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "I loved you sincerely, but love cannot continue when trust has been shattered."

Finally, you turned away, heading toward the door,

"I hope you never make anyone else feel the way I did."

Jace stood there, frozen, feeling the pain in every word you spoke. He realized that you were not just angry about the betrayal, but also about feeling disregarded, pushed aside in a relationship where you had poured all your heart and soul.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, —" Jace said, his voice trembling, but you couldn't bear to hear any more. Apologies at this point only deepened the pain.

"Don't apologize, Jace," you replied, your voice breaking with sobs. "Sorry doesn't change anything. You chose her over me, It's always been her, Jace."

You could feel Jace's hand still holding yours, but now, that warmth no longer provided the comfort it once did. Instead, it only reminded you of the times he wasn't there for you, when he chose to protect someone else over you.

“Please don’t do this, please let me fix it” He begged

"I tried so hard, Jace. I gave you everything I had, but you chose her, even if you didn't realize it," you said, your voice now filled with nothing but exhaustion and despair.

Jace didn't know what to do, what to say to fix his mistake. He could feel everything between you falling apart, piece by piece, with no way to put it back together.

"Y/n, I—" Jace started, but you interrupted him, pulling your hand out of his grasp.

"I can't stay here anymore, Jace. I can't keep going like this. I guess that's the price of loving a million dollar man."

"And I giving this ring back to you, I hope you'll find someone who deserve it" You turned away, moving towards the door, trying to leave this suffocating space before your heart completely shattered.

Before opening the door, you looked back at Jace one last time, hoping he would understand what you couldn't put into words: that you had loved him deeply, but you couldn't stay with someone who no longer belonged to you.

And then, you walked out of the apartment. As the door closed behind you, you felt a profound sadness but also a sense of relief, as if a great burden had been lifted. The tears had dried up, leaving a void in your heart, but it was a necessary emptiness, allowing you to move forward, to find yourself again and rebuild your life from the ruins.

And though the pain was immense, you knew you had done the right thing. You chose yourself

Jace might realize his mistake, but it was too late. The love and trust you had given him were no longer intact. Now, you had to seek happiness for yourself, a happiness unbound by emotional scars.

And so, you moved on, looking toward the future, knowing you deserved a true love, a love that would never betray you.

[moonlit-imagines]

Needles and Knives

Jason Todd x reader

warnings: um. needles and knives

a/n: i just wanted to do a tattoo artist au for jason im weak. also no this isnt an nsfw

prompt:

It took a bit of thorough deliberation to figure out just what you'd be getting permanently inked on your body, but eventually you'd been able to settle on a meaningful piece. Quite the piece according to your artist, Jason Todd.

You walked into the studio, a bit dark and dingy in an endearing way. Fortunately, Jason's setup was more clean and organized than the rest of the place. "Sorry for the mess, the other guys aren't as concerned about health code as I am." He chuckled as he walked over to the front desk. "Far as I know, there hasn't even been an inspector here in at least five years." You laughed with him as he got everything set up on his end.

"Thanks for taking me this late," you said, "I'm kind of a night owl."

"You're not the only one." Jason tapped the chair you'd be sitting on for the appointment. "Make yourself comfortable, it's gonna be a pretty long session." You'd picked a nicely sized thigh tattoo that would be roughly three hours long, but Jason said he was in no rush and would only charge for two. You didn't think he was in this for the money, he seemed to like what he did. Or maybe he just liked poking people with needles. Either way it was a good deal and you liked being in the studio late and alone, it was more peaceful this way.

He was as gentle as possible, checking in every few minutes no matter how much you assured him you could take a little pain. Judging by the looks of it, you could say the same about him. There were plenty of scars on his arms from what you could see past his t-shirt sleeves. You tried not to make it obvious as you started observing the rest of his exposed skin for other marks. There was definitely a faint bruise around his eye and a few healing cuts and scrapes under bandages. Maybe he was trying to fool you with the “new tattoo” look the way those bandages were wrapped, but you could tell he got roughed up. You wondered if his knuckles were just as bad under the gloves.

“You alright?” Jason asked once again, wiping away at the ink on your skin.

“Uh-huh.” You dully replied.

“Seem a little nervous.” He commented without looking back at you, dragging the needle across your skin again. “You can’t keep still.”

“Oh.” You mumbled. “Just a little restless. Not used to sitting in one spot this long.” You both chuckled lightly.

“I know the feeling.” Jason responded. “Tattooing is really just a side hustle, I don’t do it all that often.”

“Really? You seem pretty experienced.” You complimented him and took a peek at the work so far. “What’s the ‘main hustle’ then?” You pried and watched his lips curl upwards ever so slightly.

“That’s a secret.” He responds after a moment of hesitation. You thought he was joking—just a bit of a tease—but he never did give you a straight answer. You were forced to keep awkwardly staring at the injuries he’d sustained recently and further back and make your assumptions. Maybe he got in a fight with a bear. Maybe several bears.

“Late night tattooing, huh? Any particular reason?” You innocently asked. He laughed just a little—just enough to embarrass you a little bit—and stopped tattooing.

“Let’s take a break. Can I get you a water?” Jason offered and walked over to the mini fridge.

“Oh, uh, sure?” You accepted. “I didn’t offend you, did I?”

“No, not at all.” He assured, handing you a cool bottle and taking his seat once again. “You’re just full of curiosity. Remind me of my brother. Always asking questions.”

“Not always a bad thing.” You took a sip and checked the work in progress. “Looks promising so far.”

“I’d hope so.” Jason used a paper towel to pat it lightly with a gloved hand. “You’re a bleeder.”

“Needles do that.” You nodded playfully. He was charismatic, made you feel welcome and not like a burden for making him do the work. He liked your design, he helped bring it to life, and he made sure you were comfortable when the needle was in your skin. You were just so curious about who this guy was when he wasn’t in this dump of a tattoo shop. “You ever gonna tell me what the main gig is?”

“I’m a pastor.” Jason answered and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I bet.” You noticed your cheeks start to hurt from the smirk you couldn’t shake since you’d started conversation. “Boxing?”

“You could say that.” Jason agreed with that guess. “Why do you think that?”

“The bruise on your face and all your bandages.” You tilted your head to motion what you’d noticed in your short time together. “Is that not it?”

“Oh, no. Right on the nose.” Jason was either very good at lying or had a very dry sense of humor. Either way, you figured it was time to stop prying. He was, after all, just your tattoo artist.

After a few minutes of cooling down, Jason got back to work. He’d been more focused thaan before, brows furrowed as he lost himself in the detail. That could only benefit you, though. And by the end, the tattoo looked beautiful.

“Thank you, it really looks amazing.” You moved to check all angles in the mirror.

“It was a great piece, I’m glad I did it justice.” Jason started cleaning up as you paid, you said your goodbyes and left the building.

Gotham wasn’t exactly the safest of places and you were pushing 2AM as you walked down the street. Of course you knew walking was not the best mode of transportation, it was the one getting you home tonight. Especially after blowing all that money on your tattoo.

Halfway home, you realized that you were being followed by a group of people that definitely did not know you or have any positive intentions. You picked up the pace and upon realizing this, they began advancing. You thought that it was over for you before loud screams caused you to stop and spin around. There you saw a man in a red mask standing over several unconscious bodies, freshly beaten by himself. Red Hood. “Are you alright?” He asked you, which gave you deja-vu. Even with that mask on, the warped voice, the concern in the question could not thwart you.

“Jason Todd?” You asked in a whisper. The mask didn’t convey any emotions, but the pause in his answer did.

“…No.” He said.

“Yes.” You replied. “Boxing.”

“Let’s not talk here.” He requested, walking along with you to a safer location. It took some time, but you got home okay.

“Were you following me?” You finally got the chance to ask him.

“Yes.” Jason responded honestly. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safely. Luckily, I was there. You make it a habit walking alone in Gotham—at night?”

“I ought to do it more often if it means you’ll be watching.” You slyly flirted with him, adrenaline still pumping a bit from the tattoo and the fear of being attacked on your walk home.

“Oh, how hilarious.” Jason took off his helmet after you let him inside. “Don’t do dumb shit like that again. You’re gonna get that pretty face of yours roughed up if you’re not careful.” He warned in the same flirtatious tone.

“What, like yours?” You tapped the side of your facecthat mirrored his bruise and he nodded.

“This isn’t pretty. And I’ve been through much worse, believe me.” Jason put his helmet back on.

“Oh, I’m sure.” You sat down on your couch. “I’m sure you have other beautiful people to follow home and ensure their safety. Have fun out there.”

“Remember the care tips for that tattoo. That’s some of my best work there.” He pointed sternly as he approached the door.

“You’ll just have to check in and make sure. Maybe you can help me with that, too.” You smiled mischievously and wondered if he was blushing under that helmet.

“Maybe I will.” His mask distorted his voice still and he shook his head. “Make sure to lock this.” Jason reminded as he exited out the front door.

“How will you get back in, then?”

“I’ll knock.”

taglist: @captainshazamerica // @cipheress-to-k-pop // @the-did-i-ask // @azazel-nyx // @summersimmerus // @deanzboyfriend // @zoeyserpentluck // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[chococolte]

Dude imagine sagau al-haitham getting on his knees infront of you😳😳 I would die

word count. 1k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, sagau + cult au, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. i'm going to cry if when he gets released my characterization winds up being completely off that would be so embarrassing.... anyway, i wrote this really quickly and gave it only a brief look over, so i'm sorry for the quality and any repeat words etc!!

Al-Haitham pretends like his knees do not tremble.

His feet beg him to leave. But his bones stay etched into place, like markers long left into earth. Fear clutches at his heart because it is you in front of him— you, blazing like the sun. You, glowing like the moon. You, his God.

The cold sensation seeps into his flesh as your gaze burns his skin. He wishes for nothing more than to rip it off to sinew and muscle, the weight of your eyes almost unbearable. Do you find his appearance unpleasant? Is the sight of him alone enough to displease you?

It is an odd feeling, settling next to the encroaching frost of fear. A dwindling wick of flame that hopes you find him pleasing to the eye, that wishes his veins didn't burn so fiercely with worship as they do.

Al-Haitham is not one for gods. He is not one to pray, not one to worship, not one to conceive of ways to garner your attention— and yet here he kneels, bending on bruised and purple knees, his legs still throbbing from how quickly he arrived.

Up close, Al-Haitham reckons that most could not have resisted the urge to close their eyes. A tugging at the back of his mind tells him he is not meant to look upon you. But the gluttonous, sickening mortal in him wishes to stay fixed on your figure, to breathe you in like you are air— until you are a part of him, until he never has to go a moment without you.

"Come closer," you beckon, and Al-Haitham listens as if he is a dog. His body complies with your order, his body rumbles with pleasure at the thought of doing as you say. Unlike him, he thinks in the back of his mind— but it is also unlike him to adore you, it is also unlike him to still wish to feel the buzzing of your control.

Yet, he does regardless. He still yearns for you either way, despite how he aches not to be. It is not his place, not a burden he is meant to bear; a mortal man can only be so much. But his throat still tears every night, as every worship kept hidden in the morn ushers from his lips in a frenzy, as if begging for forgiveness.

He cannot be truthful to himself when he is awake, away from you. At night, he sees you, a wraith in his memories, colorful and bright— he can't hide from how tight in your clutches he is, and how he can't bear to free himself.

Al-Haitham dimly registers the pain of his knees on gelid marble, the stone offering no comfort, but the euphoria of your gaze numbs the sting. It's only a bleary thought, caked in mud and built on with the need to see you. The pain doesn't matter anymore, not when your hands are reaching forward, nails scratching against his cheeks.

Reverence stops him from leaning into the heat of your palms, stops him from saying every wretched thought lost in his head. He wants to speak until his tongue turns numb and his throat burns raw, but he reminds himself as to why he sits beneath you.

Still, the urge remains. You would understand him. He knows this well. Your understanding has no limit— he has felt it, your acceptance of every part of him, no matter how flawed or imperfect. Every other god has failed him, but you have not.

When you breathed life into him, he saw only a fraction of your thoughts; and how stunning were they, glinting and lucent in the black recesses of his mind. He caught glimpses of the breadth of your emotions, as deep and far from his understanding as the dark sea.

It is veneration that stops him from heaving his lungs, from asking every question no mortal nor faux god can claim to know the answer to.

But he does not. He clutches every urge and keeps them hidden away until he cannot breathe. Only when he has been granted your permission will he ever ask.

"Al-Haitham," you say. "My Haitham. You wonder why I have called for you, don't you?"

"Yes," is all he trusts himself to say, soft like baby's breath. His heart bursts with a foreign vibrancy, coursing through his veins until frissons ripple across his spine.

Your eyes roll over his body, lulling to a stop on his face.

Al-Haitham has never been so acutely aware of the minor faults of his features. He has never been so thoughtful as to how another may perceive him.

"Hmm," you hum, a smile gracing your lips. His heart flutters. "This. You look much better on your knees."

His breath catches in his throat. Al-Haitham stutters, blinking to make up for his gaping silence— but the buzz of warmth spreading from his chest speaks of rapture.

He has never thought that you may find him attractive.

Your laughter peals, and he is transported to a world where it is just the two of you. It is only him, and his God; it is only him, and the one person who truly understands him.

His eyes burn, but he doesn't dare to tear them away from you.

Your smile. He freezes, thinking of only how much he wishes for it to be ingrained into his memory, how the desire scorches him from the inside. He wants to call upon it any time and place, to hear you and lay his every breath at your feet.

"Closer." Your eyes crinkle, the glimmer of candlelight twinkling within. Al-Haitham listens just as he did before, taking a breath.

Your hands run up the side of his face, reaching until you feel the back of his neck. Al-Haitham would have pushed anyone else away. He would've slapped at their fingers, precious as his space is; but it is you touching him, blessing him with the sight of you.

He can't help but lean forward, unable to resist as he did before. Al-Haitham smells you on your wrists, your scent almost overwhelming his senses. His mind races to remember it, entrenching every thought with how the air parts in your wake— how the smell of your candles is attached to your silks and drapery, how he wants nothing more than to drown in it.

When he returns to his chambers, he will write every moment of your encounter until his fingers ache and his wrists are chafed raw to the bone, and every word is enough to send him back. Anything less, and he would be failing you.

But for now, his soul yearns to get lost in you a little longer.

[helplesslypurple77]

~my spirits sleeping somewhere cold~

Summary: The day after the incident you wake with an itch in your throat. And as you stare at the white ceilings of your familiar bedroom, you get a feeling of foreboding.

The dressing process is subdued, the soft feel of clothes on your skin not enough to dull the insistant pain, the large gaping hole in your chest that will never be filled. You choke up lily petals in the bathroom."

Warnings: Hanahaki, angst, major character death, religious symbolism, i'm not religious, flower language.

Notes: this is something, i guess. I've been in really bad shape emotionally lately, and money’s been really tight so all the stress is just welling up i guess. That's part of the reason I topped my other au week thin, I'm just not in the mood to craft plots and write smut. I don't know. 

Title from ‘Jar of Hearts’ by Christina Perry

...

The day after the incident you wake with an itch in your throat. And as you stare at the white ceilings of your familiar bedroom, you get a feeling of foreboding. 

There's a yawning ache in your chest, a cavity that will never be filled. You don't want to get up. You don't want to suffer. You wish god would take you instead of him. But God is not a merciful creature, that you have come to know all too well. 

The dressing process is subdued, the soft feel of clothes on your skin not enough to dull the insistant pain, the large gaping hole in your chest that will never be filled.

You choke up lily petals in the bathroom.

𓇢𓆸

Your cross sits heavily against your breast, under your shirt. You don't typically wear one, the responsibility of God's eyes is too much for you to bear. 

But today you wear it in repentance. 

There's a tickle in your lungs, underwhelming compared to the aching gap in your chest. He’s stolen your heart, taken it with him in death. You turn your eyes to the sky, so as not to ruin your makeup with tears. 

You hate yourself for your pathetic lovesick nature. Yellow petals are choking up your throat, daffodils and chrysanthemums. You spit them into the grass before you enter the detective agency.

You don't need to burden them with your plight. At least not yet. 

𓇢𓆸

You look up the meanings of the flowers when you're in the office, your fingers trembling as you read the words. 

Lilys, purity. Daffodils, rejection. Chrysanthemums, slighted love. You choke down the tickle in your throat, closing the tabs with shaky fingers. 

“The meaning of flowers?” It's Ranpo, pearing curiously over your shoulder. You force a smile, perfect in your broken heart. 

“My friend wants a bouquet.” You tell him, shooing him away too his work. 

And as he meanders off, you congratulate yourself. At least until the petals choke up your throat and you slope away discreetly to the bathroom.

You throw up petals into the toilet. 

𓇢𓆸

A week after the incident you choke up an entire flower. It hurts, the thorny stems of a small rose, its petals a dark unnatural black. You crumple the delicate petals in your hand, muffling your tears into a towel before quickly reapplying your makeup. Covering your dark circles. You haven't been sleeping. 

Death's heavy hand is hovering over your head, weighing you down with the weight of your sin. The sin of eternal love. The sin of pure devotion. 

He stands behind you, death. With his hand on your shoulder, taunting you. He laughs at your misery, at your pain. He plays his melodies of death, his requiem, his Lacrimosa, truly a lady of sorrow. You shed enough tears and pain to be allowed the title, although you have yet to birth the son of god. You don't think you will. You know your death is around the corner. It will come when the bells toll, when the stems growing in your lungs eat at your insides. The pain drives you mad. You choke up as many flowers as you can before you leave for work. 

𓇢𓆸

“Name?” Atsushi says, his hands clutching the papers in his hands. He's a kind boy, cute and sweet. You spare him a small smile, biting back the petals in your throat. The boy shuffles his feet nervously. 

“Are you doing ok?” Atsushi asks, the question almost too much for your delicate sensibilities. You almost cry, try8ing your best to give him a smile. 

“Im doing well.” You reply, the weight of the lie hanging heavy on your chest, the cold metal of the cross judging you.

The boy leaves, called away but he still eyes you, worried.

You wish you fell for Atsushi instead, for his kindness, for his selflessness. 

𓇢𓆸

They're getting suspicious. This you know. But you smile and keep your mouth shut and muffle your choking as much as you can. You don't need to burden them any more than you already have. You must die without a fuss. 

You had long ago learned how to fool Ranpo, how to get around his almost all knowing intellect. For the key was withholding the crucial fact. Because he could not come to a conclusion without it, and you were sick in your misery. You could never burden them. Never bear to see their eyes of disappointment, their eyes of confusion.

‘How could you love him?’ you were sure they would say. 

You couldn't explain, you didn't know yourself. 

And then you couldn't stop the flowers that ripped out of your throat, spilling onto the office floor. The white petals of the lilies were stained red with blood. 

You didn't see much as you fainted. 

𓇢𓆸

You wake in the infirmary, a worried circle of your coworkers surrounding you. The worry on their faces almost makes you sob. You bite back the lilies as Yosano waves them away.

They file out single files, varying looks of confusion on their faces. The door slams. 

“How long do you have left?” It's Yosano, arms crossed, eyes disapproving. 

“About two weeks.” your voice is rough, choked. A petal falls from your lips.

“Is there no solution?” Yosano asks you, her voice choked with emotion. The sigh that escapes your lips is more than a thousand words.

“The dead cannot return the love of the living.” 

Yosano wipes her tears before you see them. 

“Rest.” She says, closing the door behind her.

𓇢𓆸

The meeting is solem, confused eyes meeting red rimmed eyes. All the eyes turn to Yosano as she enters the room, her own eyes red. Fukuzawa is the first one who dares the speak, from his place at the head of the table. 

“What is going on.”

Yosano sinks into a chair, hand scrubbing at her eyes. The words she speaks are damning.

“Hanahaki.” 

The room sinks into a tense silence, a broken silence, a confused silence. The emotions are a whirl in the room, the atmosphere choking, cloying, unpleasant. Someone muffles a sob into their clothes, Kenji or Atsushi or Naomi, it doesn't matter. Yosano composes herself, dropping plain information on the people in the room. 

“She's choking on Lilies and Daffodils, and she won't last much longer.” She says, the words plain and almost cruel. Kenji curls up into himself, his head resting on his knees. Kunikida, sitting beside him, pats his back. 

“Who is it?” It's Atsushi, his voice choked up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. The room is suddenly silent, waiting with bated breaths for the escape, the hope that this could end. Yosano hates to break their fragile hope, but she repeated the words you had said to her. 

“The dead cannot return the love of the living.”

𓇢𓆸

The green bottle sitting in your hand is your escape. Arsenic is a simple plan, easy to execute, to end your suffering. The lilies are choking your throat. You want to escape.

There are letters on your bed, piled around you, addressed to the ones you love. You don't want to leave them, but you don't want to suffer, 

The bottle is your escape. 

With a pop of finality, with a last look at the world around you, you drink the poison. It's tasteless, coloreless, odorless. 

It lulls you into your final sleep. You can see him, your doomed love. Fyodor, standing on the other side. You slip into death with open arms, broken hearted but peaceful. 

𓇢𓆸

Something is wrong. Atsushi feels it, the weight on his chest, the knowledge that you, a trusted coworker and beloved friend are going to die. And theres nothing to be done about it. The meeting is silent, as the words sink in, and then, it is exposed.

People are talking, arguing, yelling over each other, words and questions and angry accusations. Atsushi covers his ear, tears welling in his eyes. 

And then, that feeling, that horrible dawning feeling that something is wrong. Almost silent, he stands, slipping out of the infirmary door, Ranpo and Yosano on his heels. He can see the dread painted on their faces, the same dread that wells in his stomach, which eats him out from the inside. The hallway is short, the infirmary door at the very end, but it feels like forever, like the hallway will never end and you’ll die out of reach. 

But finally, they reach the door. 

It's quiet in the infirmary, the bed that you lay in still, letters scattered neatly around your body. You're too still. Atsushi flies forward, the other on his heels. 

Your face is serene in death, the lilies and chrysanthemums scattered around you, a makeshift memorial. There's a bottle beside your hand, empty. The label is a death sentence. 

“Arsenic.” its Ranpo, choked up and angry, his fists by his sides. Atsushi chokes on a sob. 

The infirmary door opens with a crack, the others joining them. The entire room hangs in a state of disbelief, of despair. And then the accusations fly. 

It's loud. Atsushi covers his ears, eyes dripping small tears onto the floor of the infirmary. He feels weak when he cries, but he’s sure the orphanage director will spare him this much. 

𓇢𓆸

You left them letters. Personal letters addressed to each of them, and even some for the port mafia members. They read them in the meeting room, solemn and silent. 

But there's one letter that sticks out, an unaddressed, blank envelope. They know they shouldn't open it. But they do, and it confirmed their fears and biases. 

For there are only a few words on the paper, a few damning words. 

“From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

            Nameless here for evermore.” 

𓇢𓆸

They bury you with Lilies, Carnations, and tears. The finality of death painted on your face.

...

Endnotes: I don't know, this exists now. The Raven is a favorite of mine, ever since i read it in middle school. Edgar Allan Poe(the real one) was one fucked up dude

also i know its a little cringy to bend on a poem but i honestly don't care

(also i wholeheartedly believe Fyodor is not dead, but im still crying over it. pathetic i know)

[seabirdtxt]

Event batch 5

Heya! here's the second to last batch, a little later than i anticipated but I managed to get here in the end 🤭 next one will probably go up tomorrow!

thank you to those who requested these, and thank you so much to all of you for your patience!

🩵 Check out my other event requests! 🩵

for Anon || Xiao x Reader - Sickfic, adeptus!Reader, taking care of Xiao after a karmic debt flareup

for Anon || Kabukimono x Reader - Modern AU, haunted doll!Kabukimono

for Anon || Wanderer x Reader - Canon setting, reader is a traveling doctor

----- ⚘ -----

Quiet, like the snow

The air around him feels hazy and thick, like breathing through a heavy mist. He leans on his spear, panting lightly as he tries to regain his bearings.

Xiao’s job is easy. He clears the Liyue countryside from the spreading evil and keeps the fury of the slumbering, slain gods at bay. Today has been a day like any other, there is nothing remarkable about today that would cause him to feel as disoriented as he is.

Unless, he thinks distantly, he forgot to cleanse his karma recently.

Oh no.

The next stretch of time is a blur, Xiao only distantly remembers stumbling toward… something, and fighting more monsters along the way. There is only him, and his spear, and the screams of bygone divinity in his head as he throws himself headlong into each battle.

Before he knows it, he’s in his room at Wangshu Inn, the walls sparsely decorated with paper warding charms, lying stretched out on his bed. A stick of incense has been lit, because a faintly sweet smell permeates the air, cutting through the odor of sickly sweat he must be giving off.

There’s the faint sound of humming that soothes his aching heart, an old tune that was first sung in the time of the archon war. You.

His eyes creak open and he blinks into the low light, sluggishly bringing one hand to his forehead, where his fingers touch a cold, wet compress. A noise escapes him, and the humming comes to a fading stop.

“Xiao’er? How are you feeling?”

Your cool touch replaces his own calloused palm. You smooth over his face, moving his hair from his eyes, and he beholds you at last. One of the last remaining survivors of the archon war, and heir to one of the only peaceful adeptus clans, you’ve been by his side and tending to his karmic debt for as long as he’s ever known.

The only thing he never managed to ruin with his own hands.

He breathes your name as you stroke his cheek with your thumb, and something that’s not quite a smile blooms on his lips.

“You forgot to ease your karmic burden, silly,” you chastise him, clicking your tongue and shaking your head. You have a remarkable talent of making him feel like a child again, he thinks.

The pounding in his head lessens as you draw a fresh washcloth over his skin, cleansing him both physically and spiritually. Where normally he would grouse and complain, and you would chastise him for it during the entire process, this time he feels only relief from the overwhelming pain.

You resume your humming as you gently reattach the prayer beads around his neck, and the soothing charms on it come into effect immediately. Alertness returns to him as he realizes the position he put you in.

“My- my karma-” he mumbles as he tries to push you away, already scooting himself to the far side of the bed and trying to sit up.

“Oh, no you don’t!” You say softly but firmly, slipping the last cleansed and reinforced charm onto his belt. “I spent the better part of the last two days making sure you were properly seen to, and I feel perfectly fine.”

He lifts his arm in wonder and flexes his hand, face betraying none of his thoughts. It’s the first time in a long time that he’d allowed you to perform a full cleanse, though it occurred against his will, and the improvement to his chronic pain is significant.

He feels the bed dip as you sit beside him, watching him eagerly to see how he feels. His mouth opens and closes a few times, awkwardly trying to voice his thoughts. Instead, you give him an understanding smile and lean into him, kissing the corner of his eye delicately.

“You’re very welcome,” you murmur, and he leans into you in return, his mind quiet for the first time in months.

----- ⚘ -----

White Sheets

You get the doll by accident, really. You’d been passing by the antique shop every day for the past few weeks, and there’s just something about the poor thing sitting alone in a dusty corner of the window display that called to you. It’s almost uncanny how lifelike it seems, sitting perfectly poised in a simple wooden chair, holding some sort of japanese square-shaped string instrument in one hand. If it weren’t for the wood-grain texture, the chipped and worn paint, you would swear it’s a real person.

He’s a delicate thing, made of pale wood and dark hair that’s been carefully straightened and combed for many years, his eyes seemingly glued shut. His clothes are a little ratty, a pale lavender kimono with a darker purple obi, and a sheer veil that feels like it would crumble if you touched it a little too roughly.

He’s an iki ningyo, you learn, one of several old japanese dolls famous for their lifelike quality. This one is especially remarkable for having articulated joints. The shopkeep seems surprised to hear you’re interested in the doll, claiming that several people have bought it in the past and all of them have returned it, each one saying that the doll was too creepy to keep in their house.

He’s not creepy, you tell the shopkeep, he’s just a little lonely.

That’s how you head home with your arms full of a life sized wooden doll, looking for all the world like you’re lugging around a dead body, which earns you a few strange looks from passers-by on the way.

You settle him in your craft corner, where several of your other doll restoration projects lay unfinished. You sweep the smaller dolls aside, maneuvering your iki ningyo onto the desk and position him in a seated position. It looks almost as if he’s relaxing.

Over the next few weeks, you slowly chip away at the restoration project. First you repaired the cracks and chips with wood filler, sanding the surfaces down to perfect smoothness. Then you remove the doll’s clothes, mindlessly apologizing to it for the indignity (a habit you’d picked up ages ago, of talking to your projects as if they could hear you), and sew a brand new identical kimono with fabric that was much too expensive for your weekly budget, though you can’t say you regret it, seeing how it looks on him.

You carefully lubricate the articulated joints, and are delighted to find that its eyes are articulated as well, but they are stuck shut. It takes some time, especially being careful not to damage anything as you chip off the old dried glue. You gasp when you finally manage to pry one open after many hours of hard work, the lavender iris hidden behind the rolling eyelid shocking you with its vibrancy.

The night you open the doll’s eyes is when things start to get weird.

The area around your craft bench feels a little colder than the rest of the room, and floors creak even when you’re not walking. The buzzing of the cicadas outside ceases when you’re working on the doll, and sometimes you find your craft tools on the floor when you’re sure you’d secured them on the desk.

Your dreams are filled with images of dark rooms and raised voices and hands grabbing you left and right, being shoved from one empty closet to another, and of cold nights alone in a windowsill watching everyone in the glow of the streetlights as they pass you by.

As you’re gently painting his skin back to its proper shade, having been discoloured by time and sanded off in several places, one of his eyes rolls open. You stop what you’re doing and stare at him, wondering if maybe the eyelid somehow came loose as you were working. When nothing happens for a few seconds you quietly apologize for disturbing him, closing his eye gently with the pad of your thumb, and assure him that you will be finished with the repairs soon.

You tilt his head back and carefully drag your brush along his jaw, covering some spots that had been sanded down during your repairs. Something wet brushes against your hand, and you look up in shock to see that a fat drop of the clear lubricating oil spilled from the doll’s closed eye, leaving a shining track on his face, almost like a tear.

It’s enough to shake you to your core. You end the repair process for the evening, thanking the doll for his patience, and quickly retreat to your room. Is this what the shopkeeper had meant by ‘creepy’?

For the next few days nothing new happens. You put the finishing touches on the doll, admiring your own handiwork and moving him around, checking to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything. You move him to the living room, seating him on one of the chairs and posing him similarly to how he was in the shop, his repaired instrument in hand.

You lean down and kiss the top of the doll’s head, thanking him for his patience and hoping he likes his new home. The doll bends slightly under the pressure of your lips pressing against him, the sound of his wooden joints rasping against each other reaching your ears, and for a moment you can almost pretend it’s a sigh of relief.

That night, you dream of a happy boy in a pale kimono, smiling at you gratefully with shining lavender eyes, and playing a gentle song for you on his shamisen.

----- ⚘ -----

The Only Medicine

As the apprentice of the famed Doctor Baizhu, you find yourself in high demand. You’re much more willing to travel than your sickly master, though he does make occasional house calls if the situation is dire enough, and you have sufficient training by now to handle most cases on your own.

Which is how you find yourself traveling Teyvat with your strange partner from Sumeru.

Wanderer came into your live like an avalanche, sweeping debris and destruction right up to your front step.

He came to you in the dead of night—you’d been staying in Ghandarva Ville to help the forest watchers with an influx of digestion issues related to the rations they’d eaten—carrying the tiny body of a child in one hand and securing his hat, askew on his head, with the other. You hadn't even hesitated, bringing them both into your temporary residence and tending to the child as efficiently as you could.

He’d been cleansing a nearby Withering zone, you learn, and found the child who had wandered in by accident. You commend him for his quick reaction in bringing him here, and he was fascinated with how well you treated the child’s injuries.

You were surprised, given his initial impression, that he was actually pretty temperamental. The morning after you’d treated the child, Wanderer acted as if he’d never met you at all. He didn’t greet you, didn’t bother asking how things went, and left you without so much as a ‘goodbye’. You resigned yourself to never seeing the strange traveler again.

But you did. You ran into him again and again as you toured Sumeru, and each time he would bring you a new patient. You almost asked how he kept running into injured people, and if he was the one causing the injuries, but you held your tongue and treated every patient he brought. You like to think you built a pretty good rapport with the strange man, hoping he sees you as reliable as a medical professional, and trustworthy as a person.

Unbeknownst to you, he was actively seeking ways to approach you. Your kind but strict demeanor enchanted him, and the way you cared for everyone regardless of age, gender, or status reminded him of Buer (not that he’d tell her that).

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wanted to believe you would treat him with the same grace with which you treat everyone else. He wanted to believe he could deserve that.

Your paths next cross in Aaru Village, where he finds you wrapping a few sunburns and a broken ankle. The people flock to you asking for help for various ailments, many of which you inform them will need more extensive care, and you leave instructions with the local doctor, Maruf.

He’d been sent here by Nahida, asked to check up on the recovery of the ones who had been village keepers, and to make sure things in the Village are going well. He didn’t expect to be tasked with investigating one of the run-down shacks on the edge of the village that had been serving as a warehouse until it partially collapsed.

Surely nothing will happen to him, he thinks. Of course that’s when the other half of the warehouse decides to collapse on him.

Several things happen at once, where he feels the clay bricks bury him, and then somebody across the bridge screams, and there’s a sudden flash of green as dendro activates somewhere above him. And then everything is dark.

Somewhat alarmingly, he regains consciousness on a cot in a dim room almost entirely disrobed, which is a strange sensation because the last time he was in a situation like this he had been recovering from his defeat at the Traveler’s hands.

He sits up, uncaring of his physical state, and finds himself very neatly repaired despite knowing he must have absolutely shattered underneath that building. The magic in his body is already well on the way to fusing the pieces of himself back together. He presses on one of the cracks, and his fingertip comes away with sticky, partially dried medical glue.

He gets up and first locates his hat and his haori, choosing to forgo the bodysuit at the moment. Once he’s sure he can make it out of the room without stumbling, he heads for the door to look for the one he is sure took care of him.

He finds you outside, sitting on the ground and playing with children. They toss a zaytun peach pit in the air and you attempt to scoop up as many harra fruit seeds as possible before the pit falls down to bounce on the smooth road surface. There is a freedom to you that he only knows on the wind, when he calls for Anemo to lift him into the air and carry him where his whims desire.

He watches you play the game for a while, inexplicably irritated at the lack of your attention on him, before clearing his throat to alert you of his presence.

You turn to look at him in surprise, earning yourself the peach pit hitting your head as it comes down to announce the end of the current round. The children laugh at you as you stand up, excusing yourself from the game as nicely as possible. You pick your way through the group until you’re standing in front of him, a carefree smile on your face.

“Is this how you spend your time, doctor?” Wanderer asks, gesturing at the children behind you. “What if your patient needed supervision? Would you leave them alone in a room to fend for themselves?”

“I think most of my patients would not be up and about after having a building collapse on them,” you remark, still smiling. “I have treated gods and Adepti before, so I know when my patient will be alright on their own.”

He wonders, then, what kind of medical training you’d received under your master’s tutelage to have such a wide variety of patronage. It takes a second to realize what it is you’re not saying. He looks at you in mild surprise and points to his own chest, where several cracks in his body are just barely visible beneath the neckline of his haori.

You nod. “You must understand, I have extensive experience with treating people who do not have the, ah, typical human physique.” You gracefully avoid saying ‘inhuman’, which Wanderer thinks is impractical but he appreciates the discretion nonetheless. “So, that is to say, if you are ever in need of medical care in the future, I hope you know you can rely on me.”

Wanderer thinks about this for a bit. He knows it would be practical to have someone knowledgeable in repairing him, in the event he is unable to repair himself.

It would also, his mind whispers to him, allow him to become closer to you.

Before he can think too hard about it, he nods in agreement. It’s worth it to see the cheerful smile on your face.

[gepardling]

night-time rendezvous w/ gepard .

desc. : I arise from my hiatus much like a vampire in deathrest. The prologue for a halloween special tht no1 asked for, but i desperately needed 2 write ft. vampire landaus yippeeeee i went 2 deep on the lore besties pls idm if any1 submits asks or reqs around this AU bc i absolutely ADORE it nd didn't get 2 include all of it in da story. May be edited a lil post-release bc i didn't want 2 upload 2 late :( ( wc : 869 )

tags / cw : sfw, but mentions of blood, injury and vampirism, gn!reader, (they/them used), vampire!AU for the Landaus, reader is a human, this is slightly cliché but I LOVE MY CLICHES, proofread but lore may change

index : prologue, part 1, part 2

— Day 0

In the quiet depths of the night, Gepard, a revenant of countless millennia, stood outside his family's ancient villa nestled deep within the dark woods. He had roamed the world for eons, yet he had never been able to silence the heavy guilt that accompanied each sip of blood. The moon hung low in the sky as he grappled with the eternal hunger and remorse that were part of his existence. That's when a lost and injured traveler, you, stumbled upon his secluded refuge. Gepard was the first to find you, a wounded soul, seeking shelter in the heart of his ancestral home.

The scent of iron filled Gepard's nostrils, and a familiar angst gripped the pit of his stomach. He knew that his family, resting in crypts beneath the villa, would be acutely aware of the presence of fresh blood nearby. He couldn't avoid the hunger that was inherent in his nature, but he could control it. As he ventured out to investigate, he saw you – a weary traveler who had unknowingly stumbled into the heart of his family's domain. Gepard's eyes, centuries old and burdened with the weight of guilt, bore into yours. He hesitated for a moment, torn between his hunger and the realization that he couldn't bring harm to another soul.

With a voice that carried a mixture of both weariness and kindness, he said, "You've entered a place not meant for travelers. This is my family's home, and we're... different." Gepard longed to protect you from the danger lurking within the villa's shadows. "You should leave," he urged, although his words were tinged with reluctance. "It's not safe here for you."

"I can't walk anymore," you managed to utter, your hand clinging to the cut on your arm. The throbbing ache in your skull pounded relentlessly, causing your vision to waver in and out of darkness, much like the ebb and flow of the moon itself.

Gepard's expression shifted from concern to one of distress. He swiftly closed the distance between you, his centuries-old instincts warring with his desire to protect you. He knelt beside you, his hand hovering over your injury. "I'm...I can't let you get hurt," he whispered to himself. His own struggle with the hunger that raged within him was a torment he had lived with for centuries, but he couldn't bear to see you suffer. 

Tentatively, he extended his hand, offering you the kind of help he had never given to anyone in all his millennia. "Let me help you," he said softly, his deep voice laced with an undertone of sadness. "I can offer you shelter for the day, but after that, you must leave. This place is not meant for the living. My family..." He trailed off, the anguish evident in his eyes as he contemplated what lay ahead.

"Your... Family?" You whispered back, your mind too cloudy to make any assumptions as the pain nearly buckled your knees. The swiftness with which he scooped you up into his arms was abnormal, but you lacked the energy to resist it now. The ache in your legs still throbbed, but the pressure of his arms provided a strange sort of comfort. As he moved through the grand villa, the ancient architecture around you seemed to whisper secrets of centuries long past.

"My family," he replied, his voice a low murmur, "are not the type to welcome guests, especially those who are alive." His tone conveyed the gravity of the situation. "But I'll tend to your wounds first, and then you must leave. Quickly."

You couldn't see much of his face as you faded in and out of consciousness, but there was a quiet desperation in his eyes. Despite his almost supernatural abilities and formidable appearance, he carried you with a gentleness that spoke of deeper feelings he was unable to fully express. Gepard laid you down on a plush surface, one that seemed foreign to him, but he knew humans preferred the comfort. As you lay on the comfortable bed, the cool linen soothing your feverish skin, consciousness became a distant shore that you could barely see. He knew he had to be swift, for his kindred would soon sense the foreign essence of a human in their midst. The room around you was adorned with antique tapestries, and faint moonlight filtered through heavy drapes. Gepard's emotions churned within him, a complex blend of guilt, empathy, and fear.

Gepard's fingers worked skillfully, tending to your wounds, and he tried to stifle the rising urgency within him. As he changed the blood-stained sheets and bandaged your injuries, he couldn't help but glance towards your still form. His family's presence loomed like a storm on the horizon, and he knew he was running out of time. He sat by your bedside, locked in a silent vigil, hoping that you would awaken before the inevitable. The scent of your blood clung to the room, an indelible mark of your presence, and he knew he couldn't completely erase it. The minutes ticked by, each one heavier than the last, as he awaited the moment when you would open your eyes and, hopefully, escape the impending chaos that threatened to consume them both.

dis may or may not end up being liiiike 3 ~ 4 pts long bc oooooppss i rlly like vampires srry nd i like having geppie as a vamp who doesn't like 2 drink blood nd he does become kinda toxic later (ooc? what's that?? i firmly believe i can make it work) WAIT UNTIL U SEE SERVAL OOOOHHH MY GOD ANGST CENTRAL

[lilmisssona]

𓍢ִ໋🀦 PROLOGUE 𓍢ִ໋🀦

𓍢ִ໋🀦 PAIRING: Vampire! Hyunjin × Witch! Fem Reader

𓍢ִ໋🀦 GENRE: Supernatural AU, SMAU, Enemies To Lovers, Murder Mystery AU

𓍢ִ໋🀦 PLOT: You're accepted to The University Of Magicks" You thought it was just a fun prank, a spam ad even. But when you get actually accepted, things start to get real....You move across the country to start your new life, only to get on the nerves of a certain vampire.... Join on this magical journey as you navigate through life, friendships , love and maybe even an ancient curse ??!! Will you be able to thrive or will this be a battle to survive ?

𓍢ִ໋🀦 WORD COUNT: 1.5K

𓍢ִ໋🀦 A/N: And The journey begins! Let Me know what you think! New chapters every week!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

𓍢ִ໋🀦 WARNINGS: Childhood trauma, reader is depressed, depiction of physical abuse.

𓍢ִ໋🀦MASTERLIST |𓍢ִ໋🀦NEXT

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋

" What the hell is this even ?"

This was your initial reaction when you received the mail in your inbox.

" An acceptance letter ??"

"But I have applied nowhere..." you pondered over your thoughts, recollecting last week's memory.

But nothing came up even after jogging your brain for a good few minutes.

" Whatever, must've been some spam mail " You rolled your eyes and were about to move that mail to the bin when suddenly....

A message popped up on your laptop screen.

" Will you really let go of such a wonderful opportunity Yn ? "

"What the hell ??" You desperately tried to get rid of that pop up.

But despite your efforts, you couldn't even click on it, let alone remove it.

" Omg! My laptop is hacked!" You cried out to the thin air.

" YN, was this not what you wanted ? " Another message popped up.

" Are you even happy in your meagre mortal life ?"

You were about to shut your laptop down, when you stopped in your tracks....

It was supposed to be a spam bot right ? This was all fake right ?

Then why did a single tear formed in your eyes when you read the last message.

Why did you stumbled and fell down on the floor with a soft thud ? Why were you too shocked to even respond to that message ?

Tears rolled down your face as you let the words sink in. " Am I even happy, where I am right now ?" you thought to yourself.

" Does everyone now know that I'm a burden ?" You massage your temples in frustration.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋

Life hasn't smiled upon you yet... You lost your parents in an accident at the tender age of 3.

For anyone else losing one of their parents at any age is unbearable, but loosing both of them at 3 years old ?

That shock was too much to bear and you were mute for at least six months....

The orphanage became your new home. The people there were nice to you there but you kept your guard up.

As if you were angry at them for pitying you. Until one couple visited the orphanage two weeks later.

The woman of the couple played with you, cooed at you soothingly. The man of the couple gave you your favourite snacks.

Slowly you started to smile at their presence. They visited you daily and you looked forward to it every single day.

As their visits became your highlight. You started to smile and laugh again. Forgetting the painful memories little by little.

And for the first time in seven months, you spoke again. " Mumma " you called out to the woman of that couple.

She was overjoyed to the point of lifting you up and spinning you around. After that everything happened so quickly.

Some legal documents were shared, some hushed conversations were discussed that you couldn't fathom to decipher.

Finally after two days of confusion, the couple walked to you smiling.

Holding a document in their hands, they held you close to them and whispered...

" Welcome yn to your new home "

You were overjoyed to find a new home. The couple, whom you addressed as Mumma and dada, were the best parents you can ask for.

Life was finally looking up to you, you thought. Until it was your 7th birthday....

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋

You have been sick for a few days. Your parents were worried to the point of consulting every doctor, every remedy they can find.

You feel indifferent in your body, as if something is changing within you. No doctor, no elder can detect anything wrong.

Your parents lost hope and just stuck to feeding and comforting you.

One evening before your birthday, your eyes glowed to the sight of the rays of the moon.

You were alone that evening, with only the neighbour's daughter at your care as a babysitter.

She was in your room reading some comics and giggling to herself. You were staring at the moon from the window at your bedside.

Suddenly, a cold wind blew outside. You felt "it" again in your body.

The chills, an indifferent feeling. And before you know it, your neighbour's daughter was screaming at you incoherently.

Begging you to stop....

Everything was a blur after that...

Apparently your eyes changed their colours and you were levitating in the air with a golden orb surrounding you.

You were too shocked to know of this predicament so you couldn't answer your mumma, when she confronted you.

You didn't remember a thing.

But when your mum showed that the CCTV cam in your room captured everything, you were at a loss of words....

Your parents looked at you with a gaze of disgust and fear. For the first time of years, you didn't feel safe in your new home.

And before you know it, you were given away for adoption just like that...

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋

After that, it was one foster home to another. One school to another.

No one kept you more than a few months.

Everyone looked at you with terror, when they saw the glow in your eyes, with an orb surrounding you like a burning flame.

You fitted nowhere and were constantly called names. " Freak " and " Possessed " being the most frequent.

Slowly the weight of being indifferent from others was too much to bear.

You started to feel like a burden to everyone.

You tried everything to stop " that feeling " but, it was to no avail....

At 17 you ran away from your last foster home.

Your foster father, hit you with a pan after one of your "episodes' ' you begged him to stop.

But he glared at you with a terrifying smile and hit you, numerous times.

At the same night, you left that house and never came back.

After that, you survive yourself with small jobs here and there.

Continuing your education as well as juggling 3 jobs at a time to make ends meet.

You tried to mask that uncanny feeling. Hiding it in plain sight by being in the washroom for a good few minutes.

Finally after 3 years your efforts paid off. You were hired by a freelance company with good pay.

You thanked your past experiences for landing this job.

Eventually the job became very fruitful and you even bought a small apartment on your own until now....

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋

You were staring at the laptop screen for at least an hour now.

The pop ups are gone now... Yet the words stung to your head.

" Will you really let go of such a wonderful opportunity Yn ? "

" Are you even happy in your meagre mortal life ?"

The truth was, even though you were pretty satisfied with how far you've come on your own.

But there was always a lingering feeling that you don't belong here.

That you're different from the others.... And you hated that. Hated that " it " the uncanny feeling, took away your adoptive parents from you and made you go through hell.

“ It” being the very reason for how you started to hate yourself.

How you thought you're really a crazy freak who's a burden to everyone. How your mental health started to deteriorate.

To the point that you took mini breaks from work. Like you're taking one now and staring at your ceiling wide awake at 2 in the morning.

Not a blink of sleep in your eyes.

Pondering over your life decisions and that strange email you received.

After receiving that email you googled your symptoms.

The ones that made you feel like a freak in front of everyone.

And it was confirmed by an article. You ARE a witch.

These are the symptoms that all witches experience.

Although it was confirmed by a shady website. So you half believe it yourself.

But the university is very much real. They even have an instagram page with thousands of followers.

Their website also seems genuine.

" How did they even select me ? " you wondered. Although you were half laughing as you scrolled through their page.

Something in you believed that you should embrace yourself. Uncanny feeling or not.

That this is where you belong....

And when you spotted a very handsome man, in a post.

Clad with shining black hair, ethereal dark brown eyes, so deep that you can swim in them and a smile enough to end world problems....

A blush creeped upon your cheeks. " Hyun '' or something was written in the captions of that post.

Smiling to yourself you scrolled through all his pictures on the page. A weird feeling formed in the pit of the stomach.

But this wasn't a feeling of dread, it was a feeling of happiness, joy even.

So you rethink your decisions. Whether it'll be worth being stuck in this boring, pathetic life or should you plunge into the unknown and visit this university ?

Something in your mind tells you to choose the latter, after hours of thinking. So at 4 in the morning, you type a reply and send it.

Almost immediately you received an answer back.

" We're glad you chose the right decision. You're expected to arrive on the 21st, 5 pm kst sharp.

We look forward to your visit in Namsuhara and our lovely university. "

" Wait! Namsuhara ??" That's like the other end of the country ??"

You looked at your messy room and sighed. Looks like I have a lot of packing to do….

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒𓂃🦋

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𓍢ִ໋🀦 ENDNOTE: Everything Here is a work of fiction and my own imagination. This does not represent the real life characteristics of Stray Kids.

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[chimcess]

→ Chapter Six: Beside Him Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 17.7k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the north and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Warnings: Injured characters, death, PTSD, flashbacks, self-hatred, guilt, ANGST, hurt/comfort, strong language, scars, sexism, virginity mentioned, sex mentioned, kissing, groping, arguments, mood swings, emotional outbursts, mentioning of su*c*dial thoughts (in passing and not seriously), toxic views on love, new characters introduced, hospital scene, near death experiences leave people messed up, conflicting feelings, I love writing these characters so much, Callisto is my sweet baby angel, anything else might spoil, let me know if I missed something A/N: Even if there’s not too many people interested in it, this fic is my comfort piece since I know everyone so well. I love writing for this world, and I never want it to end (but it will one day, sadly). Sigh, at least we still have plenty of adventures to go on first.

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I pried my eyes open, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling into my bones. Every inch of me felt like it was being crushed under an invisible burden. As I took in my surroundings, it became clear that I was in some kind of medical ward. The room was crowded with the injured, and I let out a weary sigh of relief. 

I was still alive. I had made it through. 

The air was thick with groans of pain, the kind that pierce through your soul, but I couldn’t pinpoint their source. Most of the others were either silent or murmuring softly to their loved ones. I opened my eyes again and saw that there was no one at my bedside. 

With a pained groan, I pushed myself up, feeling every joint protest and crack with each movement. My head still throbbed, and I could barely see through the haze of discomfort. I scanned the room but saw no familiar faces. The absence of loved ones could mean they were busy elsewhere, not that something far worse had happened.

I twisted and stretched, trying to ease the knots in my muscles. The headache was relentless but started to fade, becoming a dull roar instead of a piercing shriek. A woman beside me stirred awake. Her body was marred by burns, evidence of her narrow escape from a fire while fleeing with her children.

“You’ve been out for two days,” she said, her voice raspy, as if it had been dragged over rough gravel.

“What happened?” My throat felt like sandpaper, and I yearned for a sip of water. “I returned after the elves had gone,” I rubbed my eyes and stretched my arms again. “What’s your name?”

“Do-yun,” she managed a strained smile. “But you’ve done more than enough already, Bridd.”

Guilt gnawed at me as I looked at her burned, peeling skin. She was wrong; I hadn’t done nearly enough. She couldn’t know that I’d been too cowardly to act when I should have. My self-loathing grew like a dark, creeping vine. If I had only been braver, had only told Jimin what was bothering me…

“Bridd?” Do-yun’s voice cut through my dark thoughts, laced with concern.

I forced a weak smile and looked away, unable to meet her eyes. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

She nodded, understanding. Many in the village would have felt the same way I did—wounded by their own burdens. Her scars were a stark reminder of my failures, and I felt a surge of nausea. Their nightmares were mine to bear. Do-yun’s tears, her cries echoing in the small room, were a testament to my failures.

“The elves haven’t returned,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “The Elders say they’ve moved to Northorn and plan to come back south. Alpha Jimin thinks they’re trying to weaken our defenses before they invade the north, and Alpha Taehyung agrees.”

A sliver of relief cut through the fog of my despair. Jimin was well enough to be involved in strategy meetings. That was a good sign. Do-yun seemed pleased with my reaction, and I feared she’d caught me. She gave a sly wink but said nothing more.

“That makes sense,” I said, nodding.

Testing my strength, I tried to stand. I smiled at the small victory. My body was recovering faster than I’d anticipated. I attributed it to the fact that I was regaining the magic I’d lost. I looked down at Do-yun again, my frown deepening.

“Are you sure I can’t help you?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Surviving is an honor. I’ll wear these scars with pride.”

I thought of my own scars and felt my frown deepen. I had never seen them as anything but reminders of pain. My thoughts turned to Shiloh, and I almost collapsed. I’d never had the chance to say goodbye. I pushed the tears away, promising myself to grieve later.

“Have you seen Jimin recently?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay steady.

Do-yun’s smile was one-sided, the burn on her face making it appear more like a grimace. I felt a surge of anger at whoever had done this to her. I wanted to tear apart the elf responsible.

“He’s here most of the time,” she said. “Taehyung called him this morning for an important meeting. He should be back soon.”

“Thank you,” I said, studying her again. “And how are your children?”

“They’re with their father, trying to salvage what’s left of our home,” Do-yun’s smile widened, though it was tight and painful. “Tae-moo says there’s hardly anything left. Your friends have been talking to witches in Moland and Syrena for help, but Elder Bo has been making things difficult.”

I huffed in frustration. Now was not the time for pride. Those witches would be a lifeline for the village. Do-yun’s discontent was palpable. Taehyung’s word would outweigh Bo’s, but I knew Jimin would have to be forceful to make it happen. 

“She’s lost her daughter, so I try to be understanding,” Do-yun said, frowning. “But I can’t ignore how foolish it is to reject help.”

“And Bo?” I asked. “Does she not approve of me being here?”

Do-yun shook her head. “We’re supposed to act as though nothing was said, but she was displeased to hear about you and Jimin’s courtship.”

So, the village knew about our relationship. I sat down on my cot, weary. I doubted Jimin would be pleased with the situation, and I needed to be cautious with whom I spoke. I wasn’t sure how people reacted to our bond or how much faith they placed in it.

“Most of us don’t understand why she’s so angry,” Do-yun said with a grin. “We’re all grateful for your help, despite her stubbornness.”

I nodded, resolved to find anyone else still in the ward. I asked about Thelma and Yoongi, but she hadn’t seen them. I decided to search for my friends first, navigating through the sea of bodies.

“See you soon, Oxur Park,” I said with a weak smile and a wave.

The ward was filled with the badly injured, missing limbs, or burned beyond recognition. Some children were blind from spells, others paralyzed and being treated by the Quietus. The sight was overwhelming, and I had to force myself to look away from the cots strewn around me.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” said a voice from behind me.

I turned slowly, and there was Cadoc, standing before me. The dark shadow that used to cling to him had dissipated, replaced by a swirling, gentle white mist. The transformation was striking—where once he had been a figure of grim determination, now he was vibrant and alive, his skin glowing warmly in the sunlight, no longer the ghostly marble it had been. His eyes, a brilliant sapphire blue, seemed almost to pulse with life. His midnight hair, still long and wild, danced with the breeze that seemed to weave around him. He gave me a soft, knowing smile.

“Cadoc,” I said, trying to match his warmth but finding it difficult. “I’m glad to see you.”

He approached with cautious steps, his gaze roaming over my body with a tenderness that felt like a cool autumn breeze. His touch was feather-light, as if he was afraid to impose. I appreciated the carefulness, suddenly aware of the uncertainty about my condition. I could be more hurt than I realized. Maybe I wasn’t as free as I thought.

“You seem fine,” he said, his voice resonating with that peculiar echo, unchanged. “I’d advise against using any magic unless absolutely necessary.”

I nodded, accepting his advice.

“Thank you again,” I managed a small smile. “I’m grateful for your help out there.”

He gave a nod. “You saved my life. I thought it only right to return the favor.”

I nodded back and began to turn away, but he called after me.

“Before you go,” he said, and I turned back. “Sam wants to see you. I think she’s quite fond of you.”

This time, a genuine smile broke through my weariness. “I’ll visit her after I’ve checked on my loved ones.”

Cadoc chuckled softly. “Good luck. My sister isn’t known for her patience. And my condolences for your loss.”

I looked down at the grass beneath my feet. Suddenly, the verdant green shifted to memories of fire and blackened earth. Screams pierced through the haze, and shadows of fleeing figures danced across the scorched ground. My hands felt cold and heavy, and when I blinked, a fleeting face appeared before vanishing into the void. Gasping for breath, I placed a hand over my chest to steady myself.

Wendy would be beside herself. I needed to get to them quickly. We had to be together right now. Oh God, Cordelia.

“Was it only the woman?” I asked, my voice trembling as I hoped he understood what I meant.

“She was the only fatality,” Cadoc replied. “Your friend is blind, another is badly injured and still receiving care, and one has severe burns on her leg.”

“Who’s here?” I demanded, my gaze snapping up. I needed to see them before I left.

“Tae-jin, I believe,” he said.

My eyes closed involuntarily. I had to see Seokjin, make sure he was alright. His mother must be frantic by now. Torn between visiting Tae-jin and comforting his family, my body moved on its own toward the tent. A hand on my arm halted me.

Cadoc was pressed close, his icy presence forming a chill around me. I fought the shiver that threatened to rise. His lips brushed my ear as he whispered, his body too near, and in an instant, he vanished from view.

“They’re here,” he said.

I turned my head, straining to catch his words.

“There’s someone in this village working with the elves,” he continued. “I’ll explain later.”

I nodded, understanding that this conversation wasn’t suited for the current setting. Pulling away from his cold embrace, I tried to make my pause look natural, though my heart was heavy with the devastation around me. The chill from his touch lingered.

“Meet me in the meadow tonight,” he urged.

I nodded once. Satisfied, the cold that had surrounded me receded, and I began walking again. Whatever the Quietus had to say would have to wait until I ensured everyone was safe. At least well enough to live.

I found Tae-jin a short while later, with the help of anyone able to guide me to his cot. He lay there, still unconscious, a large gash marring his face, red and raised. Relief washed over me as I noticed his steady breathing. He would wake up, and I hoped he’d be alright, though the scars from that night would haunt us all forever. Cordelia’s face flashed in my mind, and I shivered. I hoped this was our only loss—the witches had to handle no more. I studied him for a few moments longer before leaving the medical tent. My family needed me now, and I had to trust that Tae-jin was in good hands.

Stepping into the daylight, I was struck by the desolation. The village lay in ruins, every building destroyed. Many villagers would be unable to repair their homes, too injured themselves. Choking back tears, I reminded myself of my duty. I could crumble later; right now, my family needed me to be strong.

As I walked past a small group of villagers, their eyes followed me with a mix of curiosity and sorrow. I didn’t recognize any of them, but I assumed they knew who I was. I had never learned the names of the villagers outside those I had helped through the change. The women looked older, their bodies fuller, likely beyond the shift. Ignoring them, I pressed on, having no time for local gossip.

“They’re in the Park house,” one woman called out. I glanced back at them, seeing only grief in their eyes. I didn’t know who they had lost, but I hoped they would find a way to heal. “It’s the only house still standing down the main road to your right. Be careful; there’s a lot of debris.”

I nodded, “Thank you.”

“No,” another woman cried, her face reddened and sunburnt. “Thank you. Cadoc told us what you did. We are forever in your debt.”

I offered a sad smile before continuing on. The praise felt hollow, a poor substitute for the weight of my guilt. None of this should have happened. I should have done more. I winced at the thought, halting momentarily to regain my composure. Not now. Later.

The house was easy to spot. Amidst the charred remains and rubble of the other homes, the Park residence stood out like a beacon of hope, albeit a battered one. The yard was a wasteland of ashes, the walls were singed and weak, and a gaping hole revealed the interior, exposing its wounds to the outside world. Through the ragged edges, I could see Seokjin and Wendy, engaged in a muted conversation, their voices lost to the distance.

I chose to approach through the front door, grimacing at the blackened wood. It was clear that this house had been the last to surrender to the flames. I knocked and waited, the silence inside stretching like a taut wire. I braced myself for the inevitable flood of hugs, tears, and the overwhelming burden of keeping it all together. I was expected to be the rock, the anchor, the one who would soothe the storm inside these walls.

Callisto answered. Her face, drawn and weary, was framed by chocolate hair haphazardly pinned back. Despite her exhaustion, her blue eyes sparkled with a glimmer of recognition and relief. Without warning, she threw her arms around me, her embrace fierce and desperate.

“Oh, thank Goddess,” she cried, her voice breaking with raw emotion. “My brother will be so happy to see you. We were so worried.”

I hesitated but returned the hug as best I could. She was so small and fragile, her thin frame making me uncomfortable to hold her too tightly. I imagined her bones were as delicate as her presence. She pulled away quickly, taking my hand as if we were old friends reunited after years apart. Her exuberance was almost overwhelming, and I felt a pang of embarrassment at the intensity of her joy.

“Bridd,” Wendy’s voice, wild and frantic, called out as she spotted me.

I rushed to her. The sea witch crumbled into my arms, her sobs shaking her entire body. Her once-flowing blonde hair had been cut short, dirty strands clinging to her shoulders. She was as frail and distraught as I felt, her grip on me frantic and all-consuming. I wasn’t sure if I should tell her that I’d been the one to find Cordelia. The image of Cordelia’s face—her green eyes vacant and distant—flashed through my mind, punctuated by memories of fiery red. Her hair had been a chaotic mess, dirt and flame mingling in a grotesque spectacle. I shuddered and held Wendy tighter, praying she hadn’t seen her mentor in such a state.

“She-she-” Wendy gasped, her voice a piercing cry of anguish.

“I know,” I croaked, running my fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her. “I know, Wendy Byrd.”

I glanced over her shoulder and saw the rest of the witches huddled around a small fireplace. They all turned to look at us, except Yoongi. His gaze was unfocused, and I recalled Cadoc mentioning he was still blinded. I gently whispered to Wendy, easing her grip so I could move toward the others. Seokjin stood nearby and took her from me with ease, patting my head with a large hand before drawing Wendy into a comforting embrace. She was falling apart before my eyes, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to offer her much solace. I felt I might crumble myself.

I went to Hoji next. Her husband was ill in the medical tent, and she looked frazzled. Seokjin would be too absorbed in mourning Cordelia to worry about his father, especially since we all knew it was only a matter of time before he woke up. Cordelia, however, would never return. I shuddered, glancing down at my shirt, which was filthy and soot-streaked. I was still essentially naked, with no undergarments or pants to speak of.

Heji reached out to me from beside her sister, her smile sad and resigned. They had always been mirror images, their faces almost indistinguishable, but now they seemed to blend into one mournful entity. They were a single presence of sorrow, lacking the usual banter and gentle teasing. At this moment, they were one soul mourning a shared loss.

Yoona was by her son’s side and pointed me toward Thelma. I looked at Yoongi, who was visibly hurt and despondent. His eyes, usually so expressive, now seemed distant. I nodded to Yoona and moved toward Thelma. Enver was missing from the group, and Thelma whispered that he was asleep.

“Thank you,” Thelma whispered, her voice fierce but barely audible. “You kept him away from the worst of it.”

I nodded, my silence a testament to my own struggle. Thelma wasn’t one for physical comfort, but I knew her heart was heavy. Cordelia had been a dear friend, and Thelma had been unable to help her. I’d talk to her later, but for now, I let her grieve in her own way.

I thought of Shiloh and felt a wave of self-reproach for not having a proper goodbye. Her absence left a gaping hole in my heart, a wound that would never fully heal. I’d have to face Jimin, confessing the ruin I’d brought upon his village. I’d be branded a traitor, perhaps. Taehyung might cast me aside, but I hoped he’d understand. Sol would be relieved her mate was safe, and things might eventually mend between us. Jimin adored me, but would he still look at me the same way?

“Y/N?” Yoongi’s hesitant voice broke through my thoughts.

I was at his side instantly. He looked so young and vulnerable. I took his hand, holding it tightly.

“I’m here, Yoon.”

He reached out with his other hand, and I took it, finding comfort in his touch. Yoongi had never been one to seek physical affection, and I frowned at the oddity of the moment. I squeezed his hands, offering what solace I could.

“Are you alright?” Yoona asked, her hand gently squeezing my shoulder. “We were worried, but Cadoc said you’d be fine with rest.”

I nodded, speaking softly for Yoongi’s benefit. “I’m fine,” I whispered. “Physically, at least. I’m not sure about everything else.”

Yoongi’s grip tightened, his fear palpable.

“How are you feeling, Yoon?” I asked.

He shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m scared.”

I inched closer, our knees touching as we both knelt on the floor. I took one of my hands back and smoothed his bedhead, caressing his cheek. He reminded me of a small boy frightened by the unknown. Tears slipped down my face, and I surrendered to the sorrow. Yoongi would always be there to catch my tears.

“Me too,” I admitted softly, my voice barely audible.

“Thelma told us about your visions,” Hoji said, her voice tinged with sympathy. “We’re all sorry you had to face this alone.”

I shook my head, guilt gnawing at me. “I saw nothing. I knew something bad was happening, but I was blind and stupid. I should have spoken up. I should have—”

“We are all responsible,” Thelma interrupted, her voice firm. “I take full responsibility for your silence. It was my choice, based on my own biases. I should have known better.”

“And we all knew you were lying about Aldara’s book,” Yoona added. “We knew you were hiding something. If we’re assigning blame, then you can blame us all.”

“But Cordelia—” I choked out, my voice breaking.

“It’s not your fault,” Wendy cried, her voice small and frail. “Those things—” she spat, “—killed her. Not you.”

I turned to her, knowing I was failing to keep my emotions in check. The heartache was overwhelming, closing in on me. I’d have to confess to Jimin, face the devastation I’d caused, and brace for his reaction. I feared he wouldn’t see me the same way again. Taehyung’s understanding would be a comfort, but the thought of Jimin’s disappointment was unbearable.

“The elves are coming,” Hoji said, her voice frail and cracked, like a record on its last spin. “They would’ve come regardless of what you told these people. It wasn’t like you were on good terms with them. Hell, those wolves would’ve had their hands full.”

I tried to let her words sink in, to dull the edge of my guilt, but it was no use. The pity party was wearing thin. I took a deep breath, readying myself for the next step. I needed to find Jimin, who was with Taehyung at the palace.

“I’m going to check on the others,” I said, my voice more resolute than I felt. “I came straight here, and I’m sure Jimin will be worried if he sees me missing.”

Thelma nodded, her eyes heavy with worry. “Will you come back?”

“I’ll try to be back tonight,” I promised. “If not, then first thing tomorrow morning.”

“And we will talk,” Jin said, his voice steady but his eyes heavy with sorrow.

I owed Jin the biggest apology. I’d let my own biases cloud my judgment, just like Thelma. If I’d been more forthright with everyone, maybe I could’ve devised a better plan. Maybe Cordelia would still be alive, a voice in my head hissed. I swallowed hard and nodded at Jin.

“Be safe, Birdie,” Yoongi whispered, and the old nickname hit me like a ton of bricks. I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the sting of nostalgia and regret.

It had been years since he’d called me that. My lip trembled, and I hugged him tightly. If I had done more, maybe he’d see me crying into his shoulder. His fingers gently toyed with the tattered cotton at my neck, and I crumbled a little more as he rested his head against my shoulder.

“You should change before you leave,” Callisto’s bell-like voice startled me. “Come on. Our socrus might have something that’ll fit you, but if not, I’m sure Ji-Hyun won’t mind parting with something of his.”

As we moved out of the living area, my mood sank further at the sight of the wrecked house. It was barely standing, and I longed to start fixing it. Enver would have a field day with that, but it would have to wait. I’d tackle it when I came back later.

“The water’s out,” Callisto said as we approached the back, “but we’re close to the stream. We can wash up there and come back to get dressed.”

I admired her tenacity and the faint light still burning in her eyes. It was impossible to know if I’d ever be as strong as her. She would see her reflection and only want to eradicate the pests that had caused this devastation. She wouldn’t be haunted by the smell of smoke clinging to her clothes. I’d never ask, but if she did, I was sure it would show in her eyes when she looked distant.

“Pink or blue?” she asked, lifting two pieces of fabric.

I shook my head, “Whichever your mother likes less.”

“Blue, then,” she said with a mischievous smile. “Good thing it’s my levir’s favorite.”

I didn’t speak Latin fluently, but I knew the word for brother well enough. Hearing it often in the village had me cracking a smile. Leave it to Callisto to think about making me presentable for my mate. Seeing my reaction, Callisto’s smile broadened.

“I’ll grab a set of Ji-Hyun’s clothes just in case. Jimin will hate it, but he’d hate you wandering around in rags even more.”

She returned quickly, a knitted bag slung over her shoulder and a bottle in her hand. The floral scent wafted from it, and I smiled softly. Her efforts to cheer me up, even through something as mundane as hygiene, were touching. I found myself liking her more than I’d expected.

We left through the back, and I was disheartened by the state of their yard. It was a wasteland, the remnants of happier times gone. Callisto took my hand, guiding me towards the rushing water.

“Where’s Jimin’s mom?” I asked.

Callisto shrugged. “She left this morning to help some friends gather supplies for the rebuild. But knowing her, she’s been all over the place today. You’ll like her a lot.”

I couldn’t tell if she was sincere or just trying to convince me. Jimin had been confident in his family’s support of our relationship, and Callisto’s warmth was reassuring. I had no doubt Ji-Hyun would be equally kind, but a mother’s expectations could be heavy. I wasn’t sure I’d measure up.

“Do you think she’ll like me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Callisto laughed, a sound that seemed to chase away some of the shadows. “Oh, trust me, she already does. The way Jimin speaks of you is more than enough for her. So, don’t worry about it.”

Her simple outlook was refreshing, and I envied her for it. I wanted nothing more than to escape my own tumultuous thoughts, to drown out the images of fire, Cordelia’s disfigured face, and Aldara’s arm under the moonlight. I longed for a reprieve, even just for a moment. I wished I could live in Callisto’s mind for a while, to experience her strength and clarity.

“Are you okay?” Callisto asked, her voice gentle.

I hadn’t realized I’d been zoning out. “No, but that’s just how things are sometimes.”

She tilted her head. “Not if you don’t want them to be.”

I laughed without much humor. “It’s never that simple for everyone, Callisto. I’m glad you seem to be an exception, though. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”

She hadn’t lost those she held dear. The elves had left the humans alone, so her family was safe, and she didn’t seem to mourn any lost friends. Faulting her for not grieving my losses would be unfair.

We walked in silence, Callisto’s hand still tightly clasped around mine. For once, her touch didn’t bother me; it was a comforting presence. When the stream finally came into view, we began to undress at the bank.

“Oh,” Callisto choked out.

I looked around, searching for the source of her distress, but we were alone. I glanced down at my arms, and a wave of despair washed over me. They were burned and scarred, the skin tight and marred with splotches. The iron had done more damage than I’d realized. My palms were the worst, and I followed the scarred skin until it disappeared from view.

I traced a finger down my chest, feeling the ridges of scar tissue until I reached a large, raised gash on my abdomen. Hunching over, I whimpered at the sight. The jagged edges of the wound felt like rough stones under my touch. I traced them repeatedly until Callisto’s voice broke through.

“I’m sorry for saying anything,” she said quickly, her gaze fixed on the water. “It was rude.”

“It’s fine,” I replied, my voice harsher than I intended. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to soften my tone. “I’ll wear them with pride.”

The lie seemed to do the trick, soothing her unease. Callisto stepped into the water, motioning for me to join her. The water, warmer than I had anticipated, wrapped around me like a comforting embrace. I relished the sensation against my skin, using my hands to scrub away the grime that clung stubbornly. I had to bite my lip to stifle the grimace that threatened to escape as the friction burned my damaged skin. I didn’t want the human girl worrying over me. We used the flowery wash, and I was relieved by how refreshed I felt, the dirt and grime of the day dissolving away.

The dress fit me a bit loosely, but it was manageable. I wasn’t thrilled about donning another man’s clothes, even if they were Jimin’s brother’s. It somehow made it worse. Callisto’s enthusiasm to help me lace up the back was palpable, her worry evident as she adjusted the fabric to hang properly. The flowy material fell gracefully to my ankles, but the top clung more tightly than I would have preferred. Once I was dressed, I helped Callisto into her own muted-green gown before we headed back to the house.

“I’ll wash the shirt,” she offered.

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll replace it later.”

Callisto nodded, took my hand again, and fell silent. The quiet of the forest struck me. There were no birds chirping, no frogs croaking, no insects buzzing. The usual rustle of deer hooves or the scurrying of a rabbit in the underbrush was absent. The forest was as silent as we were, and the stillness felt ominous. Bangtan had always been alive with sound; now, it was as if the life had been drained away.

The house came into view again, and I tensed. I wasn’t ready to face my friends, and my urgency to see Jimin grew. I needed to explain myself before anyone else had the chance to tell him what was going on. I stopped, realization dawning on me that Callisto had overheard my conversation with the others and knew more than I had assumed. She paused too, her brows lifting in silent question.

“Does Jimin know?” I demanded, pulling my hand from hers.

“What?”

“Does Jimin know about—” I struggled for the right words. How do you explain hearing the wind speak without sounding insane? “Does he know about me?”

Callisto’s eyes softened. She reached out, taking my hand back and rubbing my knuckles. I didn’t deserve her kindness, but I accepted it, selfishly. Her tender gaze was so understanding, so kind, that for a moment I almost believed I could be forgiven. Her silence, however, spoke volumes. I pressed on.

“Yes,” she said gently. “Jimin knows. The whole family does. Don’t take Hyun’s words to heart; he’s not known for his sensitivity. I’ll keep him in check.”

My world seemed to tilt, the weight of the reality crashing down. I wanted to be the one to tell Jimin, to be honest without being exposed first. Now, that chance was gone. Callisto’s warm hand was a small comfort, but it didn’t change anything. Even if Jimin loved me, even if he had forgiven me, it did nothing to alleviate the crushing guilt I felt. Part of me wished they had turned me away and blamed me for their troubles—it would have been easier to understand. Ji-Hyun’s disdain for me made sense.

“Cali!”

The moment was shattered as Callisto pulled away from me, practically running toward the source of the voice. I looked up to see who had captured her attention. The brunette flung herself into the arms of a towering man. His massive muscles bulged, and his skin was a deep bronze, contrasting sharply with his light hair. His hair was an unusual mix of taupe, gray, and white, cropped short and slicked back. He smiled down at Callisto, and the sight stopped me dead in my tracks. His smile was wide, his teeth perfectly straight, with a dimple appearing on his left cheek. His eyes twinkled with an intensity that made me want to flee toward the palace. This was Jimin’s younger brother, who looked everything and nothing like him.

Noticing me, the wolf’s attention snapped to me instantly. Callisto, following his gaze, flashed me a blinding smile. Her eyes, now a striking hazel, were even more captivating than before. The man’s curiosity about me was evident, but he didn’t immediately question my presence.

“Bridd?” he called, his voice deep and rougher than Jimin’s. His eyes were a light greenish-brown that shone prettily in the sun. “What are you doing here?”

I gathered that he hadn’t been frequenting the medical ward recently. From Callisto’s expression, she was clearly irritated by his manner. It dawned on me that Jimin’s brother had always known about us, even before we had gotten together, but he was accustomed to keeping it private. Out here, it was easier to overhear. I felt a surge of gratitude for the small gesture, even if it seemed unnecessary now. Jimin had evidently made our relationship public.

“I needed to see everyone before heading to the palace,” I replied. “You must be Ji-Hyun, then?”

He nodded, a smile on his face that seemed forced. His gaze lingered on me, and I felt self-conscious. I had yet to see myself in a mirror, but the glance I’d given myself earlier had been revealing enough. Ji-Hyun’s eyes stayed on my hands a moment too long, and I quickly folded them behind my back. Callisto smacked him on the chest and hissed at him to stop. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Jimin spoke of you often,” I continued.

Ji-Hyun looked away, blushing slightly. “I’ve heard plenty about you too.”

“You should go,” Callisto said, giving her mate a look. “My brother will be thrilled to see you up and about.”

Ji-Hyun laughed, and a wave of embarrassment washed over me. Biting my lip, I nodded and started walking again. Callisto smacked Ji-Hyun and chided him for being “such a boy.” I laughed softly and met Ji-Hyun’s exaggerated pout with a grin.

“I swear,” Callisto groaned. “You’re always so thoughtless.”

Ji-Hyun laughed. “Don’t start with the Namjoon insults.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you were Namjoon, I’d be far more tempted to punch you in the face. Broken hand or not.”

As they faded into the distance, I watched them with a bittersweet smile. They were an odd pair—deeply in love yet playfully childish. At least they had each other, and their humor was a small beacon of hope amidst the bleakness. I hoped their mother was as joyful as they were, but I didn’t hold out much hope.

A few villagers were beginning to clear debris and rebuild. I spotted Namjoon among the workers and kept walking. I had little to say to him at the moment, and he was busy. Up ahead, Jungkook was tossing things out. It was unusual to see the omega outside the palace walls, even more so away from Sol. With Taehyung home, Jungkook no longer needed to shadow and protect Sol.

I wondered about Hoseok and Hyuna. I trusted Shiloh to heal him, but I had heard nothing since I woke. The witches would likely be unaware of any deaths in our group. My conversation with Da-yun had eased my mind slightly; she would have mentioned Hoseok’s death if it had occurred.

I climbed the hill to the palace carefully. I would have liked to use magic, but I respected Cadoc’s wishes—no magic unless absolutely necessary. It was for the best. The elves' conversation in the forest lingered in my mind, and I quickened my pace. If their plans were already in motion, I needed to gather as much information as possible to warn the pack. Whatever the elves were plotting, I suspected this was just a taste of their power, and I would need all my strength to fight back. Magic would be off-limits for now.

Halfway up, a young woman noticed me and came to my aid, her gray and brown fur shimmering in the sunlight. She offered her back, and the remainder of the climb, which would have taken me fifteen minutes, was reduced to three. She was enormous.

She let me down before heading back down the hill. I felt a pang of guilt for taking her away from her duties, but she seemed unbothered. I had more pressing concerns.

A few guards watched the palace entrance, one of whom gave me a cursory glance before recognizing me. I entered without trouble, the heavy doors thudding behind me.

The air still carried the scent of soot, and I was thrust into a whirlwind of activity. The palace, once serene, was now a flurry of people scrubbing walls, cleaning fabrics, and shuffling documents. The sight filled me with a sense of disgust. These people should be focusing on their homes, not polishing stone floors.

“Can I help you?” a gentle voice called out to me.

She was a big woman, bigger than me by a solid three heads, and built like a grizzly. Her muscles rippled under her skin, and her short, silky black hair had a glossy sheen to it. When she smiled, it was a small, guarded curve of the lips, and the lines and wrinkles etched into her face hinted at a life well-lived but marked by struggle. It was clear she’d survived the chaos that had claimed many of the village's elderly.

"I’m looking for Alpha Jimin," I said.

The woman nodded, her face a mask of stoicism. A sense of foreboding gnawed at me; I had the feeling I wouldn't be seeing him anytime soon. But before she could lead me away, I introduced myself, giving my title. The maid flinched, her fear so raw it hit me like a physical blow. I was taken aback. What had they done to this woman?

"I’m so sorry," she said quickly, her eyes wide with alarm. "I didn’t know."

I waved off her worries. "There’s no need for that," I said, trying to soothe her. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, and I clenched my teeth. This was a conversation I’d need to have with Taehyung. No one should be made to fear me. "Please, I need to see him."

"Of course, Uxor Park," she said, her voice steady but laced with an odd formality.

"Excuse me?" I said, my eyebrows arching in confusion.

Her face flushed, and she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. As we climbed the grand staircase, she spoke in hushed tones. "I forgot you've been recovering from the battle. Alpha Jimin has announced your bond, and wedding arrangements are already underway, Uxor Park."

"I’m not his wife," I said, frowning. "Stop calling me that. What’s your name?"

"Koda, daughter of Ammon," she replied.

I mulled it over. "Well, Koda, I have a name and I’d prefer to be called by it."

Koda's eyes widened in scandalized surprise. I could tell she was used to strict protocols. The term 'amica' Jimin used for me didn't sit well with me, a reminder of how detached our relationship seemed to others. I inquired about its meaning.

"It means 'loved friend,'" Koda said, her tone warm. "It's a term for someone cherished, but in a platonic sense."

The word 'platonic' felt like a cold slap. I had hoped it was more than that. Koda, noticing my discomfort, offered a reassuring smile.

"It’s a term the Alpha takes seriously," she continued. "He’s never used such nicknames for anyone outside his family, and never 'amica.' He might reserve more intense terms for after the bonding ceremony."

Her chuckle was a comforting balm. The tension from before seemed to lift. I hoped she knew I would never raise my voice to her. I suspected Ahn had been one of those dreadful mates she spoke of—vile and cruel.

"He’s very traditional," Koda said. "He’s been handling your union with the utmost respect and had refused to publicly announce your partnership until you woke up."

Her admission was a mixed blessing. I understood his caution but it was still hurtful. He had promised me a choice, yet now it seemed he was hesitant to make it public. The mention of Bo’s interference was aggravating. I would have preferred Jimin to claim me openly, not as a response to political maneuvering.

"Even knowing how cautious he is, I’m surprised the bond hasn’t been completed," Koda mused, speaking more to herself than me. "He’s such a gentleman. His mother raised him well."

I was intrigued. "You know him well?"

"Not personally," Koda admitted. "But he’s one of the few wolves who’ve never laid a hand on me."

"Why stay?" I asked softly, trying to keep our conversation private.

"It’s my duty to serve," she said with a resigned sigh.

I felt a pang of empathy. Though I had never been physically harmed, I understood the feeling of being trapped. Here was Koda, ensnared in her own form of imprisonment. Anger flared within me at the thought of Ahn. I wanted nothing more than to deal with him myself.

"Is Ahn still alive?" I asked with a sneer.

"Ahn?" Koda’s fear was palpable, but she quickly composed herself. "No, he’s dead. It’s only Kim Yong-Seok, Namjoon’s father, and Bo Ha-Joon. Bo’s been struggling—she lost a child."

Guilt washed over me again. The poor woman. I tried to recall her face but couldn’t remember. Ahn had kept the council women silent, a vile man indeed. Kim Yong-Seok would have to be dealt with, but Bo was the immediate issue. I hoped Namjoon would honor his son’s wishes, and I resolved to thank the Alpha for his aid during the fight.

"Taehyung is a good man," Koda said, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "Sol is lucky."

I agreed wholeheartedly. Taehyung’s potential shone brightly. Despite his seeming passivity, his heart was in the right place. He fought fiercely, but his strength lay in his care for those around him. I was grateful for his presence.

"What happens now?" I asked as we approached a set of large wooden doors.

"You’ll meet with the council as a new Uxor," Koda said, her voice returning to a professional tone. "Afterward, you’ll start planning your wedding. With everything going on, it might be rushed or postponed. You and Bo will discuss your options. You’ll live in the palace until things settle. You and Jimin won’t be allowed to be alone without a chaperone. Taehyung and the Luna wed quickly for the same reason. Bo was unhappy but accepted it."

I nodded, trying to absorb it all. The rigid customs were foreign to me. Jimin’s mother sounded like a force to be reckoned with, and I was eager to meet her. Koda’s words offered a glimpse of the world I was stepping into, and I hoped for the best.

"Kim isn’t angry about your union," Koda continued. "In fact, he’s pleased. He believes your children will be strong, which is crucial if the war continues. After the wedding, you’ll need to meet with Jimin’s family to discuss arrangements. Traditionally, a woman might serve her in-laws for a year in exchange for loyalty. Mi-Jeong won’t do that to you. She’s strong and will support you."

I smiled, reassured by Koda’s words. The world felt a little less daunting with her by my side. As we neared the council room, Koda’s nerves were palpable, but her kindness had made her a friend in this new, uncertain world.

I struggled to keep up with the parade of rules and formalities, feeling like I was lost in a fog of outdated customs. Was this what Sol had been drilled in her whole life? I scoffed, imagining Taehyung’s indifference to such trivialities. As for Jimin, his disregard for my manners was legendary. It was almost comical to hear about his mother’s no-nonsense temperament, yet it stung how little she knew about the true nature of our bond. The fact that Bo had spilled the beans instead of Jimin himself was a bitter pill to swallow.

“The most important thing,” Koda’s voice cut through my thoughts, “will be your intentions. You’re about to become one of the most influential women in the village. For this to work, you need their trust and respect. You’ve already made quite an impression, and that’s a start. But with the war looming, not everyone will be pleased.”

I could only hope Koda was right. As we approached the door, she signaled for silence and knocked. The room’s murmur faded into a tense hush. When she announced my arrival, the silence exploded into a cacophony of excitement. I couldn’t help but grin when I heard Sol’s voice rise above the din, her eagerness to see me palpable.

“I need to apologize,” she declared, her voice brimming with sincerity. “You’ve been through so much, and I...”

I waved her off, trying to dispel the weight of her guilt. “There’s nothing to forgive. What happened was a drop in the ocean of chaos.”

Sol pouted, her eyes filled with earnest regret. “I still feel I owe you an apology. You’ve done so much for me.”

I hoped my gaze conveyed that her apologies were unnecessary. I had taken Taehyung in because it was the right thing to do, not for any debt of gratitude. To her, I was a savior. To me, I had merely done what was right.

“Let’s move past that,” I said, gently redirecting the conversation. “I’m here to see Jimin.”

I heard a sharp intake of breath from the room’s occupants but ignored it. If Jimin had an issue, we’d discuss it later. For now, I was untroubled by the murmur of others.

“I’d like to be excused now,” I said, my patience wearing thin.

Sol clung to my side, her weariness evident in her voice. “He’s so tired,” she murmured, her tone heavy with fatigue. “His voice... it’s so rough.”

I longed to comfort him, to run my fingers through his hair and kiss his weary face. But decorum held me back. I disentangled myself from Sol and moved closer to him.

“After,” came a deep, commanding voice. “It will only take a few moments, Alpha.”

Stepping into the room, I finally saw Jimin. His hair was pulled back, revealing a face etched with exhaustion. He looked as if he had been through a war—a reflection of what we had endured together. I wanted to rush to him, to reassure him I was alright, but I caught Taehyung’s eye and held myself back. This had to be brief.

Taehyung rose, bowing respectfully. I mirrored the gesture, aware that hugging was out of the question. It would be a step too far, a breach of the decorum Taehyung sought to maintain.

Jimin remained seated, his eyes locked on me. It was clear he struggled with the weight of our recent ordeal. The room's tension was palpable until a voice broke through.

“It’s so wonderful to see you alive, Bridd,” an elderly woman spoke. I assumed she was Bo. “The Council was growing anxious.”

I offered a small, neutral smile. “I am quite well,” I assured her.

“We are grateful for your service,” came another voice.

I turned to find an older man with graying hair and a stern face. He was unmistakably Namjoon’s father. The resemblance was clear, though their shared seriousness was where their similarities ended. 

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of a formal introduction,” he said, approaching and bowing deeply. I returned the gesture.

“I am Kim Yong-Seok, Namjoon’s father. I’ve served this council since the time of the previous Bridd, and I am honored to have fought alongside you.”

“I am Y/N,” I replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yong-Seok.”

“Elder Kim is quite alright,” Bo interjected, her voice too sweet for comfort. I resisted the urge to scowl.

Kim took a seat at the large table, which was cluttered but unheeded by the council members. I remained standing, noting Sol’s return to the room. She was curled up in Taehyung’s lap, oblivious to the discussions unfolding. I was envious, and my patience was wearing thin. Jimin’s silence was heavy.

“I would like to thank you for taking Alpha Taehyung in,” Kim said. “My son was not acting rationally, and there were many voices in his ear. I tried to make him see reason. Ahn was the one who intercepted the letter you sent. Ha-Joon found it in his belongings yesterday morning.”

A jolt of anger tightened my jaw. Ahn was dead, and speaking ill of him wouldn’t change that. My anger simmered beneath the surface. I didn’t trust these elders—Kim or Bo. Not yet. I remembered Cadoc’s warning. There was a spy among us, and I needed to be wary.

My thoughts shifted back to Aldara’s cryptic message. I needed to find Naida—wherever she was hidden within Lustra. The name had never come up before, and it unsettled me. I would have to dig through my mentor’s old books to uncover her identity.

Jimin guided me out of the room, and I noted Koda’s absence. She must have slipped away while I was inside. As Jimin wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close, I struggled to keep pace. For now, I allowed myself to bask in the simple joy of being near him, pushing my worries aside.

“So,” I whispered, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace, “I’m your wife now?”

His ears flushed crimson, a stark contrast to his usually composed demeanor. “It’s just a formality,” he replied, his voice trying too hard to be even. I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of him flustered. For now, it was just us, and that would have to be enough. I’d deal with Cadoc once the sun dipped below the horizon. “I had planned on a proper proposal after this war.”

Jimin guided me through a door and into a dimly lit room, where the flicker of candles barely illuminated the sparse furnishings. A large bed dominated the space, its fresh cotton and lavender-scented sheets almost too pristine. The room was stark and bare—two pillows, a thin blanket. I longed for the comfort of my cabin, with its thick, cozy quilts.

As thoughts of home stirred memories of Shiloh, an ache settled in my chest. I should be grateful to be reunited with my mate, but the façade of being fine was growing tiresome. My emotions swayed wildly, anger and sadness colliding like a storm. 

“Come here,” Jimin murmured, his hands sliding down my sides.

I looked up and saw a hunger in his gaze, but it wasn’t the kind of hunger I was ready to feed. His touch felt like a double-edged sword. I wanted to step back, but his grip only tightened, pulling me closer.

“What’s wrong, amica?” he purred, nuzzling my head.

“I don’t want to be left hanging again, alpha,” I breathed, my voice trembling as his fingers brushed the side of my breast. “I know how you feel about my ‘honor.’”

The bitterness in my voice was hard to mask. I hated the idea that he saw me as tainted if we went further. My mind screamed that he wouldn’t think that, but his actions said otherwise. Why else would he be so fearful of loving me openly? Instead, he’d brought me to this shadowy, damp room in a palace teeming with whispers. He seemed content to keep us apart, while I felt as if I was suffocating.

“Is that what you think this is about?” he asked abruptly.

“Isn’t it?” I shot back, my anger flaring anew.

Jimin shook his head, cupping my cheek. I turned away, pushing against him with a desperation that bordered on irrational. I knew I was acting out of raw need, wanting his touch but feeling rejected by it. His denial stung more deeply today, making me feel more inadequate and unwanted than ever. I wanted him to address my betrayal, to shout at me, to confront me for the lives lost, but instead, he remained silent.

“No, mea columba,” he said softly, “You are always someone I am proud to be with. No matter what.”

I scoffed and tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. “Is that why everyone found out about us through that vile woman? You’re so proud you’d rather keep me a secret?”

Jimin’s confusion was palpable as he reached for me. “Where is this coming from?”

I wanted to scream that I didn’t know why I was so enraged, why I’d been so happy to see him moments ago. I wanted to explain that I needed him to need me, to acknowledge my guilt and fears. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was for the things I’d hidden, for the blood on my hands. Instead, I just recoiled.

“You said you’d choose me over everyone, but when it mattered, you didn’t,” I spat. “You didn’t even tell your mother! The only reason she likes me is because she dislikes Bo!”

Jimin reached for me again, his determination unwavering as I backed away. He seized my arm, and our eyes locked. The fierceness in his gaze made my words falter. Tears welled up, blurring my vision.

“Stop it,” he said, his voice unnervingly calm. “I hate it when you talk about yourself like this.”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I felt myself sobbing, overwhelmed by emotions that I couldn��t fully grasp. Was I losing my mind?

“I’m sorry they found out this way,” Jimin said, his voice gentle yet pained. “But you have to believe me when I say I planned to tell them. I just wanted to wait until you were awake, carissima.”

I knew that. Koda had explained it, and I had believed her. My anger should have been directed at Bo, not Jimin. I struggled to understand why I was so furious. What was wrong with me?

“You’re overwhelmed,” Jimin murmured, pulling me into his embrace. “I just want to help you relax, carissima.”

I nodded, sinking into his chest. Despite having slept for two days, exhaustion clung to me. Jimin rubbed my back, kissed my head, but the comfort did little to still my racing heart.

“Amica means friend,” I sobbed, my body wracked with violent shakes. “Is that all I am to you? Just a friend?”

Jimin’s dark chuckle rumbled through him. “Of course you’re my friend, Y/N. My dearest, most loved friend. Is that a problem?”

I nodded, tears still streaming. I felt like a storm was raging within me, a tempest I couldn’t calm. My stomach churned, and I felt like I might vomit. As I closed my eyes, Cordelia’s face flashed before me, and I flinched away from Jimin. The overwhelming grief felt eerily similar to Aldara’s death. I gripped his shirt and sobbed uncontrollably.

“Can’t we be both?” he whispered. “Can’t you be my very best friend and my lover at once?”

I nodded again, unable to speak. My crying continued, each sob a release of pent-up agony. The sounds of people moving outside were distant and irrelevant. All I wanted was to hide in his arms forever, to be enveloped in his warmth. Why had I pushed him away?

“Sweet girl,” his lips brushed my ear, “I’m not upset with you.”

I exhaled shakily, finally finding some relief. I curled into his body, my hands pressing against his strong back, feeling the muscles shift beneath my touch. Jimin sighed deeply and rested his head on my shoulder. I buried my face in his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. My cries began to subside.

“Fall apart,” he whispered. “I’ll be here to hold you together.”

For the first time in a long while, I let myself revel in his love, shedding the guilt that had weighed me down.

“I forgive you,” he kissed my cheek. “I’m sorry you were hurting.”

“I’m so sorry, Jimin,” I choked out.

He responded with a tender kiss on my collarbone and a gentle bite on my jaw. The moon climbed higher in the sky, and as I stared out the lone window of what I now considered my own room, I awaited a sign of Cadoc. It wouldn’t be long before I could leave this place. The walls felt suffocating without Jimin’s embrace, but he stayed with me for the entire hour, holding me as I cried until my tears ran dry and my wails had quieted. I told him everything—the visions, the secrets, the pain. 

He listened as I recounted the battles, the injuries, the loss. He flinched when I spoke of Yoongi and wept with me as I described dragging Cordelia’s lifeless body from a pile of the dead.

“She was so heavy,” I lamented, rocking in his arms. “So, so heavy.”

Though Jimin had duties to attend to, he was reluctant to leave me. He offered to send someone else to stay with me, but I refused. No one but him was welcome in this room. This would be my sanctuary, my new nest, and I would decide who could enter. I would make an exception for Koda, but only to keep her away from Bo and Kim. My friends were unlikely to come searching for me here, not with my desire to escape this castle so evident.

I caught sight of a shadow slipping through the village like a ghost—a dark figure darting between the flickering lanterns and darkened doorways. I didn’t wait for a signal or an invitation. I shifted, my wings unfolding with a silent grace, cutting through the night like a whisper. The palace loomed ahead, shrouded in darkness, and I maneuvered effortlessly around its towering walls, my feathered form blending with the moonlit shadows.

Landing near the main door, I knew I couldn’t open it without raising alarms. I needed another route. The window in my room was sealed tight, but luck was on my side tonight—one window, in the maze of broken frames, stood open, a gaping hole left by repairs.

I seized the opportunity, shifting back into my human form as I slipped through the opening. The forest greeted me with a chilling silence, the kind that presses in on you, making every sound a threat. I hoped my friends were safe—Patto was tough, but Delinah, she was vulnerable. Elves had a taste for deer, and I shuddered to think of the worst.

Cadoc awaited me in our meadow, his silhouette barely discernible against the destruction. The cottage stood in ruins, yet it felt untouched by time, as if it had been forgotten in the chaos. The air was still, untouched by recent visitors. I could tell no one had been here for days; they must have abandoned it when they thought it was of no more use.

“No one’s been out here,” Cadoc’s voice cut through the stillness as I approached.

I landed softly, shifting back into my human form with practiced ease. The spell on my clothes had never seemed more valuable. Cadoc, now draped in dark, blending seamlessly with the night, looked both familiar and strange with that ghostly, translucent aura. I kept my guard up, fingers curling around the iron ring I wore.

“What do you know?” I demanded, cutting straight to the chase.

“Not much,” he admitted, his voice laced with frustration. “Samanya is suspicious of the female chief, but that seems too easy. Lorcan distrusts humans, his judgment clouded by bias. Both are heading to our queen in Moland to discuss their theories.”

I frowned. The lack of consensus between them wasn’t promising. If they couldn’t agree, how could their queen be of any help? Why was she still in Moland when the real battle raged in Foxglove? It made no sense, and I couldn’t find fault with Bo or the humans. Even if I disliked the older woman, her loyalty to her pack was undeniable. It was hard to believe she’d betray them or kill her own child.

“What evidence is there that anyone was involved?”

“They entered through the caves,” Cadoc explained, frustration etched in his features. “No army could traverse them so quietly without intimate knowledge. How did no wolves detect them? It’s too strange to ignore.”

I had to agree—it was bizarre. The cave’s echoing silence was a stark contrast to what should have been a cacophony of warning. Only someone who knew the cave’s ins and outs could exploit it so effectively. The wolves would have been on high alert for any sign of intrusion, but nothing had stirred. It ruled out the humans, who were barred from the cave. The whole situation felt unsettling.

“You believe me,” Cadoc said, surprised.

“You make good points,” I replied. “But why would someone use elves against their own?”

“Power,” he said, grimly. “The same reason elves betray one another.”

Elves were vile creatures. Aldara had always said that Quietus killed for vengeance while elves killed for glory. They thrived on destruction, hating hybrids and “halflings.” During the Century War, they had taken Korika from the wolves and foxes. Lustra had resisted, but those who once ruled had diminished. Quietus were among them, their aggression towards outsiders evident. Aldara’s tales had painted them as monstrous, but looking at Cadoc, I saw the truth in her words. Despite his unyielding support, I kept my thoughts about Quietus involvement to myself. We couldn’t afford infighting when the real enemy still lurked.

“What did your ancestor show you?” Cadoc asked. “The witch boy said you’d seen her in the spirit world.”

I frowned. “She mentioned someone named Naida.”

Cadoc’s face shifted, recognition dawning in his eyes. The name stirred something within him, but I couldn’t place it. Aldara had spun tales of Lustra and its legends, but names had always eluded me. Keld, the fire dragon guarding King Omar’s grave, came to mind. I wondered if the elves were encroaching on dragon territory and whether the Sarkan allies were missing. The humans in Northorn seemed far from their home country, while Northorn itself was in turmoil.

“And she said you specifically?” Cadoc pressed.

I nodded, weary. Cadoc began to pace, mumbling to himself. I grew increasingly frustrated, wishing he’d just tell me what I needed to know. My emotions were a storm, and I struggled to keep them at bay.

“You’ll need to go to the Ozryn Mountains,” he finally said. “Finding Naida is impossible without Khione. She’s in the Mountains near Idris, and you might convince her to help if you explain the situation here.”

I scoffed. “Who are these people?”

“Khione is an elemental who bends the elements. She’s Naida’s closest friend, and easier to find.”

I sighed in exasperation. After the day I’d had, my patience was threadbare. I wanted to return to Foxglove, to sneak into Jimin’s house for comfort, even if it meant defying him. The thought of leaving made me want to break down. My frustration boiled over, and I clenched my jaw.

“I don’t know who any of these people are!” I shouted. “Explain it to me, Cadoc. I’m lost, and you’re telling me to go find some elemental.”

Cadoc paused, his gaze piercing. I felt I was missing something crucial, but my understanding of the wider world was limited. Politics and war had never been my forte. The only woman I could think of was Queen Elizabeth of Northorn, but she held no significance here.

“You’re too young to remember the age of dragons,” Cadoc said, as if realizing my ignorance. “Naida is the first dragon-shifter, the mother of them all. Khione is a distant relative of dragons, born from a dragon and a Quietus couple. Their lineages are the remnants of ancient dragons.”

“I didn’t ask for a history lesson,” I grunted.

“It’s vital you understand who you’re dealing with,” he insisted.

“There’s no Naida in Alcona,” I snapped.

Cadoc chuckled softly, disarmed by my reaction. I flushed, realizing I was overreacting. I offered a sheepish smile and scratched behind my ear, my frustration ebbing away.

“Naida is a water dragon,” Cadoc continued. “Khione is an elemental with diluted blood, unable to shift.”

Dragon-shifters were believed to be fire elementals from Alcona Islands. Aldara had mentioned their enslavement during the Century War, forced into service by Sarkan weaponry. Water and air dragons were rare, and the thought of water tribes in Ozryn was unfamiliar, like the rumors of hybrids hidden in the mountains.

“The people of Alcona know her,” Cadoc explained. “Queen Affra is her godchild, though they seldom meet. Naida bears a grudge against Etelin for what they’ve done.”

I was skeptical about finding this dragon woman. My experience was limited to the forest and Moland. I had no maps or guidance. Jimin would resist my departure fiercely, and I’d need to navigate around him. Cadoc seemed to read my thoughts.

“Samanya will have maps for your journey,” he said. “She might even offer to accompany you.”

“No,” I shook my head. “If I’m gone, I want the strongest fighters here. I’ll go alone and write when I can.”

Cadoc seemed disappointed but conceded. I was resolute. I’d ensure only I was missing and would need to convince Kim and Bo to let me go, promising to return with help. Taehyung would see through any pretense, adding another complication to my plans.

“You’re braver than you look,” Cadoc said.

“I don’t feel that way,” I replied.

Ignoring his comment, Cadoc continued. “You’ll first need to get to Clarcton. There, you can find lodging. The elves are avoiding Briar Glen Beach, where Keld resides. He’ll alert Queen Affra.”

“Pack for the cold, buy clothes, and find a guide to the mountains,” he instructed. “The elves are at the northern tip of Northorn. Seek out help if you can. Stay south in the mountains and find the passageway to Idris.”

“How will I know I’m going the right way?”

“Dwarf caves are common,” Cadoc said. “You’ll hear them during the day. Avoid traveling at night—danger lurks in the dark. If you’re lucky, someone will inquire about your presence. Mention you’re seeking Khione. Dwarves hate elves more than we do.”

“If not, follow any distant light. That’s Khione’s tower. It will guide you.”

The plan was forming. Tonight, I’d gather grimoires from the cellar and ask Cadoc to take them back. Over the next two days, I’d study fiercely, preparing for the challenges ahead. I’d select a few books to bring along, my companions on this uncertain journey. I had to start soon if I hoped to be ready by dawn.

“Stay here,” I told Cadoc. “I need to gather some things.”

“Heidi would have better information,” Cadoc said, recalling her from the war. “The girl with her would be helpful, too.”

I walked inside and opened the cellar door. The cold air hit me like a slap, and I shivered despite myself. The place was a mess of old crates and dusty shelves, but I knew exactly what I needed. I grabbed a few of my knives and set about crafting a new one. Thelma’s order for iron had come in, and there were two iron sconces in my room I could melt down. My magic was temperamental, and I couldn’t afford any mistakes. On my way out, I snatched three feathers I found in Shiloh’s nest, tucking them into my pocket.

“Look,” Cadoc started up again as we trudged back to the village, “I get why you want to do this alone, but at least think about bringing a friend.”

Annoyance flared. I huffed, letting my frustration boil over. “Do you think I’m too weak to handle this by myself?” I shot back.

“Absolutely not,” he replied, his voice dripping with sincerity so convincing I almost bought it. “But I do think you’re loyal to a fault. You’re starting to act recklessly, putting everyone else’s needs before your own safety.”

“Well,” I sighed, “it’s my duty to protect this forest—and that includes the people within it.”

Even to my own ears, it sounded weak. The idea of going alone was gnawing at me. Something inside was pushing me to do this on my own, but I couldn’t quite put it into words, especially not to someone like Cadoc. Elementals were never the most spiritual bunch; I doubted he’d understand.

“Tell me, how would your wolf feel about this?” Cadoc prodded.

“He’d never allow it,” I snapped. “Jimin would forbid it, even if I had an army backing me. Overprotective fool.”

“And what does that make you?” Cadoc’s voice took on a sharper edge. He was clearly irked. “A prideful martyr? An overzealous know-it-all?”

I breathed deeply through my nose, fighting to keep my temper in check. My emotions were already frayed—Namjoon, Jimin, and now Cadoc had all managed to push me to my breaking point. Still, Cadoc’s words stung more than I cared to admit.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he taunted. “I know you’ve suffered, and I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, but do you really intend to die? You’re much more valuable alive.”

My face twisted with frustration, and I threw my hands up. The books I was carrying felt like they weighed a ton, and I dropped them with a thud. My eyes burned, and I was even angrier at the tears that threatened to spill.

“Why does everyone treat me like I’m made of glass?” I seethed.

“Do they?” Cadoc dead-panned.

I glared at him, feeling a creeping sense of irrationality. It was as though I was watching someone else’s life unfold, seeing the world through another’s eyes. I didn’t feel like myself.

“But your wolf does?”

I closed my eyes and stopped walking. “Not exactly. I’m just... tired of being coddled by him. He’s always so kind and understanding, and it makes me feel like I don’t have to work for anything with him.”

Cadoc’s mouth twitched slightly, but his eyes remained stony. In the darkness of the trees, his gaze seemed stranger, almost glowing faintly. I lit our way with a flame spell, the heat uncomfortable against my skin, but I pushed through the growing discomfort.

“Does one need to work for love?” he asked.

I pursed my lips. “Everything in life takes work.”

“Sure,” he quipped, “but do you think you have to earn his love? Fight for it?”

“I-” I stammered. “I thought we all fight for what we want.”

Aldara had drilled into me that anything worth having came from hard work—mastering my powers, pushing my limits, learning potion-making. Nothing came easily. Earning Jimin’s affection was just another challenge, and I had a lot to make up for.

“Do you think Jimin wants you to fight for his love, or has he given it to you freely?”

After a pause, I whispered, “He’s always given it freely, though I don’t deserve it.”

“Would you like to talk about that?”

I told Cadoc about my nightmares, the spirits that haunted me, and how I cried every night in shame while Jimin held me. He listened in silence, his sympathy palpable but unwelcome. I didn’t want anyone’s pity. This whole mess was my fault. If I’d confided in my boys, we could have done something. When I voiced that thought, Cadoc’s scowl deepened.

“You can’t seriously think this is all your fault, can you?” he hissed.

“I can and do,” I shot back, my defenses already up. “And you can’t shift any of the blame off me. I deserve to feel this way, Cadoc. I don’t care what anyone says, if I—”

“You’re throwing away your life on a ‘what-if’ scenario?” Cadoc growled. “The elves would have attacked no matter what. If they’d known the wolves were ready, it would have been even worse. You can’t change what’s happened, Bridd.”

“But I can atone for it,” I mumbled, the fire within me dimming. I was exhausted, craving rest, longing for Jimin.

“I’ll tell your boyfriend,” Cadoc threatened suddenly. “Unless you let someone help you.”

Glowering, I summoned the last of my strength to shout at him. “Why are you so pushy?”

“You saved my life,” Cadoc reasoned as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I owe you. I think a life for a life is the only fair trade.”

I could see I wasn’t going to win this battle. If he told Jimin, my departure would be impossible. Yet, if I went alone, I’d endanger someone else. Feeling defeated, I nodded, accepting my fate. What was one more death on my shoulders? The thought made me shiver, and I pushed it away.

“I get to choose who comes with me,” I said.

Cadoc’s smile was triumphant. I felt sick to my stomach. Each step felt heavier, and I knew I wouldn’t make it much further. Thankfully, the village appeared on the horizon.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Bridd. We’ll decide in two days.”

“Two days,” I affirmed.

I found his home easily. Despite the disarray and damage, it was clear that people had tried to keep it together. I didn’t think it would withstand much longer, but I hoped it would be enough for Jimin to stay safe. The other copiae had taken refuge in the palace, their homes too damaged. Bo had insisted Jimin stay out here, away from us, and I could only hope he would be safe.

I made my way to the bedroom window where I had flown in months ago. How much had changed since then! The thought twisted inside me, a bittersweet mix of joy and pain. Jimin was at his desk, quill in hand, hair tied back. The soft candlelight flickered across his face, casting shadows that made him look almost ethereal.

Cadoc had taken my things to my room—Heidi’s five books, Griselda’s one, and two more of Aldara’s journals. His powers made gliding through the village practically silent, a feat my bird could never manage. Along with the books, I’d packed spare trousers, my jewelry box, and my quilts. This room would be mine for a few days, and I intended to make it feel like home. I hoped it might bring Jimin some comfort in my absence. I tapped on the glass.

Jimin glanced up and rose from his chair. He gestured toward the front door, and I circled the small house. The door was already open, and Jimin’s arms stretched out to me.

“You were gone when I came to check on you,” he said softly.

I stepped into his embrace, closing the door behind me with a firm kick. His warmth enveloped me, and I inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar scent. The thought of being away from him for so long was almost unbearable.

“I sneaked away,” I said with a grin. “Needed to grab some of my things. Hopefully, Bo won’t be too upset.”

Jimin chuckled. “Ignore her. She’s hurting and trying to drown herself in distractions.”

“Like hate? Disgust? Disdain?” I asked, resting my chin on his chest and peering up at him.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Jealousy,” he sniffed my hair and stiffened. “You weren’t alone on your outing.”

I shook my head. “No. Cadoc wanted to discuss some... issues they’re facing.”

“Can we talk about it?”

I nodded and reluctantly pulled away from him. I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything while he was coddling me. I stifled a yawn and waved off his concern. Jimin, like everyone else in my life, treated me as though I were a delicate glass house in a storm. Normally, I appreciated his tenderness, but tonight we needed a serious conversation, and his pampering was only going to derail it.

“They think there’s a whistleblower,” I began, sinking into the sofa. “Using caves was risky, and they’re consulting their Queen about it now.”

“Taehyung and I considered that possibility,” Jimin mused, his gaze intent on me. “Is that all?”

Again, I faced a choice. Lie and deepen the breach of trust, or be honest and risk a confrontation. I was too drained for a real fight tonight, but I could muster enough strength to plead my case.

“I might need to do something in the next few days,” I said, staring at my hands. “It won’t be easy, but you need to trust me.”

“You need to give trust to receive it.”

Looking at him, I saw the hurt in his eyes. Keeping secrets had made everything worse. Even if he never voiced it, even if we never spoke it aloud, I knew he was pained by my silence. All this time, I’d been focused on keeping him safe, never considering that he wanted to ensure my safety too. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for the words I knew wouldn’t ease his mind, but hoped might soothe his anxiety.

“I can’t tell you much right now,” I said, taking his hand. “I don’t know enough myself, but when I do, I’ll let you know. There are things I need to figure out first.”

His heart seemed to break with each word. His face fell, and his eyes dimmed, but I knew this was the right decision. I wished we could have a reassuring conversation, but tonight wasn’t the right time. I was too tired and emotional. I had no clear path, no idea who would accompany me, and I couldn’t let Jimin’s protectiveness hinder my mission.

“I can live with that,” he said quietly.

“It won’t be like last time,” I promised.

Jimin peered into my eyes. “You look exhausted.”

Relief washed over me as he lifted me off the sofa and settled me onto his makeshift cot. He took my feet in his hands, rubbing my arches. I was astonished by his touch, not caring about the dirt. It had been so long since anyone had touched me like this.

“I’m sorry for this morning,” I murmured. “I’m just so tired. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He lifted my foot and pressed a gentle kiss to the top before dropping it back into his lap. The cot was nothing more than a stack of blankets on the hard floor, and the thin pillow beneath my head was far from comfortable. Yet, as I lay there, I had never felt more at ease before sleep.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he said with a grin. “I love you even when you’re angry and frustrated with the world.”

I choked back a sob and reached out to him. “Can you just hold me? Just for a little while?”

We lay together on the floor for the rest of the night, talking and caressing each other. I had missed a lot while I slept, and I was glad to hear the updates. Koda’s words from earlier had eased my insecurities about our slow progress. Jimin truly believed he was honoring me this way, and I would let him have it.

“Jimin?” I called out, my voice rough from overuse.

“Hm?” he hummed, half-asleep, barely able to keep his eyes open.

“I love you too.”

He chuckled, the sound resonating deep in his chest and vibrating through me. With a kiss to my head, he turned onto his side, pulling me close against his chest. His warmth was almost overwhelming, and I was relieved we didn’t have a blanket; I would have been sweating buckets by now. Another kiss to the back of my head, and soon his gentle snores filled the room. As the sun rose, I fell asleep with a smile, imagining Bo’s confusion at finding my room empty.

Translations:

Socrus - Mother-in-law

Levir - Brother

Mea columba - My Dove

Carissima - Dearest

Disclaimer: I can’t speak Latin at all. I try to research as much as I can, but that doesn’t mean I’m always right. I do attempt to keep it as close as possible without relying on Google Translate (it’s not the best source either). The Lustrian language is a made up language based on Old English. None of it is accurate, but I don’t think that matters all that much.

Taglist: @greezenini @adventures-in-bookland @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @zae007live @jimin-neverout @nikkiordonez12 @canarystwin @yamekomz @chimthicc @michiiedreamer @amorieus @mima795 @i-never-post-but-i-am-here​

© chimcess, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 012 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. 18+.modern royal au. infidelity. minimal angst. reader is confused with her feelings. toxic characters. toxic relationships. explicit smut. unedited. implied dub-con. smoking. physical violence. sex tapes. reader has a gun and almost uses it.

notes. i wanted the kiyoomi and suna girlies (/gn) to win so here it is! feedbacks / reblogs/ comments are appreciated <3

wc. 12.9k

series masterlist 

[ TWELVE ] for you, i would cross the line. i would waste my time, i would lose my mind. they say “she’s gone too far this time.”

You prided yourself in being logical.

There was little to no room for measly emotions when it came to royal affairs. Granted, you had no proper training, but you were raised as a noble, and the rules were clear. Set aside your emotions, always look towards the most plausible solution, and cry about it later – where no one could see. Those were your mother’s words. You held onto them for as long as you remembered, with the exception of making only one grand mistake: proceeding with the marriage after catching your fiancé cheating on you.

But now? Now, you were about to make your next worst decision – letting Kiyoomi walk away.

It wasn’t love, of course. It couldn’t be. The odds simply weren’t in your favor, but couldn’t a Princess hope? You met him first, had him as your last dance on your debut ball. He was the first Prince who ever held your hand, the first Prince to dance with you, and the first – possibly last – who reminded what love could feel like. What love should feel like. It was explosive and angry like fire licking up at your skin, begging, pleading at you to chase after him. Every nerve in your body protested as you watched him take one more step away from you. It’s a mistake, one I’ll regret – Don’t let him go. It screamed at you, its cries desperate to be heard. You didn’t want to be here in the Palace. You didn’t want to return to your shared quarters with Rintaro.

You wanted to go back to Itachiyama – his farmhouse, the castle ruins, riding aimlessly with Astra and Lucy, picking fruits from his garden, and spending hours in his library. You hadn’t even held your end of the promise yet to learn everything about him.

What did Kiyoomi love? What did he look like in his slumber? Does he talk in sleep? Does he steal the blankets? What about his favorite song?

You moved before you could think.

Closing the distance in hurried strides, you grasped the Prince’s elbow. He stiffened under your touch, his eyes unreadable through the dimly-lit hallways. “Your Highness. Wait,” you panted, “Listen… back at Itachiyama–”

“Do you want me?”

Your grip on him faltered. Briefly, you took a step back, but the Prince was having none of it. He easily closed whatever distance you attempted to put between you two, his face hard and eyes burning with passion. With yearning. You never thought a man could look so determined yet hopeless as he did, the picture-perfect image of ardor. His brows pinched together, his lower lip trembling as he sighed. “Do you want me?”

You shook your head.

If only it could be as simple as that.

“It’s wrong, my Prince. We couldn’t… We wouldn’t work out. I only meant to say that I do adore you, and I do not want whatever complicated feelings we have to ruin our friendship,” Lies. Every word uttered from your lips were nothing but measly lies. Kiyoomi could tell too – the hesitation written all over your face said otherwise. “I hope you understand. You and I – we’re impossible.”

You couldn’t tell which one you needed more: for him to deny your worries, or for him to agree that you were right. You figured both would be just as painful.

Kiyoomi’s nostrils flared as you looked away from him, feet shuffling in the other direction already. “Stop. Do not take another step. Don’t you dare,” with a low growl, you were suddenly pulled back against his warm chest. You gasped at the hardness of his body, the warmth of his skin, the tenderness of his touch. His lips were everywhere but the one place you needed it to be – lingering at the curve of your neck, his breaths fanning over your exposed collarbones. It was like he had set you on fire with one touch alone, his firm grip around your waist both eerily intimidating and lustrous. And he must’ve laughed – you weren’t sure anymore. All you knew was that you were completely under Kiyoomi’s mercy, and quite frankly, he could have his way with you as he pleased.

“If you do not choose me…” murmuring, your breath hitched as his lips briefly grazed your skin, making your pulse jump. “You will regret it. You will be unhappy with him.”

I’m already unhappy with him, you wanted to say, but the words died in your mouth.

You’d lost all forms of coherence under Kiyoomi’s spell. Especially in this compromising position, this scandalous way his hand now slowly trailed its way from your abdomen and up to the swells on your chest – Gods, what would any witnesses say? This wasn’t how a Prince held a woman that wasn’t his.

“Your Highness,” you tried to fighting from his grasp, only to fall momentarily back against him when finally, finally, his lips were now leaving marks on your neck. It took all of your willpower to not give in right there, to not sink your fingers in his delicious curls. You had to say no. “I-I think we’ve both had a long night. We should retire to our quarters.”

“I will allow it if it’s my quarters you’ll be sharing.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck – your gaze darted around the empty hallway, paranoid.

The lights had been dimmed hours ago, the staff retiring to their rooms, but it was so quiet your breathy moans could echo. Anyone could walk in and see you like this, pleading but not quite begging for the Prince to not stop holding you.

And it was wrong, so deliciously wrong.

“Please,” you closed your eyes, unable to stop yourself from craning your neck to give him access. Above you, Kiyoomi chuckled, the rumbling of his chest deliciously low.

“You should stop lying to yourself, Princess. You do not want him. Whatever attachment you still have for my brother, it is nothing but a pitiful excuse of familiarity. You keep him around because there is no other choice, but you cannot keep lying to yourself. You cannot keep lying to me that you do not feel as I do when I see the way you look at me,” grasping your chin with his much larger hand, Kiyoomi forced you to look into his eyes. Pools of inky depths stared back at you with part frustration, part lust – his skin already flushed with sweat. You couldn’t look away even if the world ended. There was only you and Kiyoomi, with his hand resting on top of your breasts and gently caressing, so light you might’ve thought he wasn’t there.

And you, breathless and reckless, clung to him like he was your last lifeline.

Kiyoomi dipped down. His nose brushed against yours, your breaths mingled before he breathed you in greedily. “I was never a man who had many desires, but you are the greatest of them all. You run through my mind even in my sleep, and you are the first thing I search for when I wake. So do not tell me you do not want me when I know it’s my name you cry out in your sleep.”

Your knees felt impossibly weak.

“What do you want me to do? I’m married. You’re married. Are you forgetting divorce is impossible?” you snapped back, shoving him until his back hit the wall. The painting above him clattered, yet the Prince seemed uncaring, his arms crossed against his chest as you breathed hard. This was preposterous – this could not go any longer. “This would never work. The people would never understand.”

“I do not care what they think.”

“I care what they think! My husband is already cheating on me, and his own people detest him for it. What more if they find out I have taken you as my lover?”

“Then tell me to go,” he whispered, tilting his head back as he stared at you almost defiantly, mockingly. Like he knew you wouldn’t have the courage to actually say it. “Tell me, and I will walk away.”

When Kiyoomi is met with silence, he scoffed. A smirk graced his handsome face before he’s grabbing you by the arm and twisting you, the positions reversed until your back hit the wall. There’s a slight ache pounding at the back of your head, but nothing – absolutely nothing – could tear your attention away from his lips crashing into yours. The kiss is nothing short of avidity. Kiyoomi devoured you like a man starved, molding the shape of his lips into yours while his large hand encompassed the entirety of your face. Thumbs running over your cheek, his imposing frame completely dominated you. Your bodies were now pressed into each other that it became difficult to tell where you began and the Prince ended.

All you knew was Kiyoomi kissed you like he spent most of his nights dreaming about it, sighing and groaning all at once before his tongue fought for dominance.

Pushing his tongue inside your willing lips, he tasted all of you. He spoke the words he struggled to say, the firm grasp on your hip keeping you in place beneath him a clear sign he didn’t want you anywhere but here. But you weren’t leaving. You’d be a fool to walk away now that you finally had a taste of him, and it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

You wanted more, needed more.

Kissing him back harder, your palms flattened on his chest before you balled his shirt into your fists, uncaring if he’d walk back home flustered and wild. You simply needed him there; you wanted to breathe him in, to have nothing but him as your entire world.

“Stay,” you pleaded in between kisses, letting the Prince maneuver you until your bum landed flat on a table. Uncaring, the Prince swept aside all knick-knacks placed above it when his lips found yours again. And oh, a greedy man he was. Even after kissing you until you were breathless, he still hadn’t had his fill. His tongue danced with yours in this gentle melody only you two could sing, your bodies moving in sync like a choreographed dance. Your hand would wound up to tangle itself in his dark locks, his hands would scramble to undo his breeches, and willingly – wantonly – you would welcome him with all your being. It’s a dance between lovers, a forbidden tune you sang wholeheartedly, accompanied by your high-pitched moans once the Prince had himself buried in you – “Oh. Oh.”

“Who makes you feel good?”

“You, my Prince, it’s you,”

Biting down on your lip to muffle the noises you made, you heard the crescendo of the music. Rising and rising with overwhelming intensity at each note hit, each perfect thrust and drive into you. He hadn’t felt like anyone else. He was thicker and spread you open, impaled on his stiffness while you sat there helplessly to take it all. You felt empowered and weak at the same time, with your legs locking behind his chest as tears rolled down your face from the pleasure of it all, but Kiyoomi showed no signs of stopping.

Heavens, he might not even stop tonight, not when you sucked him in tight and made his breath stutter, his thrusts staggered.

“Kiyoomi,” you cried out, unable to keep quiet any longer. He simply held you carefully, a great contrast to his hips pistoning in and out of you – no, he held you like you were a porcelain doll he feared would break, someone he had to protect and cherish. And his eyes – droopy yet adoring – gazed upon you like you were worth more than any crown. “Oh, you are so…”

His forehead landed on top of yours, his lips minutely brushing against yours for a quick kiss. It’s rushed, frantic, yet intimate in ways you’d never experienced before. For once, sharing bodies with someone didn’t feel like just like sex.

For once, you finally made love with someone.

“Choose me, Princess,” he gritted his teeth, “It was always meant to be me.”

You awoke with a gasp.

Sitting up, your heart pounded in your chest, your skin clammy and drenched with sweat. A scan of your surroundings told you that you were in your room, the empty side of your bed a sign Rintaro kept to his word and left you alone. Closing your eyes, your head dropped down to your palms.

So it had been a dream, after all.

You really allowed Kiyoomi to walk away from you. And one mistake leading into another, you let Rintaro do the same.

Regret churned at your stomach. You could see it perfectly now – the drooping of the Prince’s shoulders, his gaze cast downwards when you bid him farewell. There were still traces of the happiness you felt in Itachiyama lingering on him just as he finally left, ones you were compelled to reach out to before it was too late. But it couldn’t be – you refused to give into your desires when it meant committing a sin. Rintaro didn’t deserve your loyalty, but he was still your husband, and you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing you’d been exactly like him.

In fact, you might be becoming like him with each passing day, and although you would never say it out loud, you understood him better now.

To find someone who could’ve been yours, someone who would’ve made you so happy against all odds, and to not have them at all – it felt like a cruel joke was being played by the Universe.

Is this what Rintaro felt like? Did he feel as if the world was being unusually cruel to him? Did he wonder what he could’ve done to deserve all this? Because those thoughts ran into your head long enough that you gave up on sleep, and rolled out of bed with a heavy heart and – shamefully – aching with need. Snatching your robe from the closet, you tiptoed out of the room. Rintaro was fast asleep in the sofa, his arm shielding his eyes from the lit candles. When he didn’t budge from his spot at you poking around him, you let out a sigh of relief and left the room. Clicking the door shut, you spun around, coming face to face with a wide eyed maid.

“Heavens!” you placed a hand on your chest, and then chuckled as the maid stepped back and bowed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone would still be around.”

The maid frantically shook her head. She scratched the back of her head as her gaze darted around, seemingly determined to not look you in the eye. “No, Your Highness, it was my fault for startling you. I was reassigned to you just now, you see, and… Uhm, I’m Airi. Prince Shinsuke sent me here.”

Airi… You’d heard that name before.

“Oh! Airi. Yes, of course, I remember you,” you nodded, tying the robe around your waist tighter. “Why are you up this late?” At your question, Airi’s cheeks flushed a deep red before turning away.  You smiled to yourself, chuckling under your breath as you gently squeezed her arm. “I understand. You needn’t say anymore.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Would you like to accompany me for a walk?” you gestured to the empty hall. Airi nodded, a little too enthusiastic in picking up her skirts. You figured neither of you wanted to stay here any longer where anyone could easily see you.

Turning to the other direction, you headed for the gardens at the outer wing. It was the closest to your shared room with Rintaro, and coincidentally, an infamous shortcut to Belleview’s surrounding gardens. There had been rumors that Belleview was added in the palace grounds as an afterthought years ago – how a sudden need arose to have a separate place for a married couple. It was bizarre, in your opinion, how this long, seemingly endless path would certainly end up right at Kiyoomi’s doorstep if you were patient enough to brave the half hour walk.

Could you?

Would you?

Absentmindedly, you gnawed at your nails. Your Mother would chastise you for the unladylike gesture if she were here, but it was only you and Airi. She wasn’t going to judge, although you didn’t miss the way she glanced at you so often. Curiosity, maybe, but a question imposed her eyes. Deciding to break the silence, you smiled at the dark-haired maid.

“You’re very pretty. I can see why the Prince fell for you.”

Airi stuttered in her steps. “Oh! Thank you, you’re too kind for that, but I doubt it’s because of the way I look. The Prince and I have known each other since we were kids, that’s all. My mother was a maid too before she died. She was the one who helped raise His Highness,” she babbled, grimacing when she realized your patient smile held little to conceal your amusement. “Uhm… If I may be so bold, my Princess, I think you look rather great for someone who has been cheated on.”

Your brows rose. That you hadn’t expected.

“I do?”

“Yes. You look unbothered by it, or at least, you seem to be doing a great job at it,” she offered a polite smile, “Being a royal must come naturally to you as a noblewoman.”

Unable to help it, you chuckled. Oh, how wrong she was.

“Not at all. I haven’t always been this way,” you told her, watching as your surroundings changed from the marble pillars and into the night sky, where the fresh, cold breeze bit at your skin. You were thankful for it – the cold atmosphere was a great contrast to the blooming, colorful flowers.

It somehow reminded you of Kiyoomi’s gardens, and how you probably wouldn’t see it anymore.

The smile on your face disappeared. The ring on your finger grew heavier, and unbeknownst to you, you started spinning it with your thumb. It was curious, truly, how a week was all it took before you completely lost yourself. You couldn’t remember who you were even like before Itachiyama, before Kiyoomi. Or could it be that the past you had never been fulfilled to begin with? What if you were merely a work in progress, and the you in this moment was the real one?

If that was true, then that could only mean two things you would never want to admit out loud.

One: that you weren’t as in love with your husband as you thought if you couldn’t get Kiyoomi out of your mind, or Two: that the traditional saying and belief was right – your last dance would be your fated lover.

And it would make sense, too. Of course, you were happy with Rintaro. Were. You fell in love with him simply because there was no other appropriate reaction. He was the Crown Prince, a man who called on you every single day and learned about your passions until night came. He charmed your parents, loved them as his own, and proudly presented you to his regal family. It was the kind of love little girls were taught to dream about. The kind of love everyone wanted. You couldn’t blame yourself for craving the Prince’s touch, for giving him all your firsts. It seemed only the right thing to do. He courted you, committed to you, loved you as much as he could – it was logical and methodical.

It was one plus one equals two.

But Kiyoomi? It didn’t feel natural, or a step by step process.

It felt all kinds of wrong because you shouldn’t, and all kinds of right because it’s him. It’s the way he smiles at you when he thinks you’re not looking, or how his head is always turned in the other direction to act like he isn’t listening. He isn’t like Rintaro who never takes his gaze off of you – not because he can’t get enough of your beauty, but because he was watching. Rintaro was always watching, analyzing everything you did, crafting his actions and words perfectly to elicit the response he wanted from you.

His brother was the exact opposite.

Kiyoomi always stayed at the walls and blended in with the background. He never attracted any attention to himself, but would devote his entire focus on you simply because he’s entranced. Or you hoped he might. Surely it couldn’t be one-sided.

You felt it too – the frustration ebbing off of him each time you slipped away. You saw with your own eyes the way his face fell when news of your husband’s affair spread.

He didn’t hate his brother for sleeping with his mistress behind your back. He hated Rintaro for ruining a night that should’ve been yours. A night where his touch could linger on yours for a moment longer as you smiled for the cameras. A night where it’d be appropriate for him to look at you like you’re the star of the show – it’s camaraderie, you’d play off – and a night where he might’ve drove you back at the farmhouse and slowly, tenderly, begin with tugging your gloves off before he moved on to your dress.

Gods. You exhaled. You shouldn’t be doing this.

You shouldn’t be thinking about Kiyoomi, his plump lips that looked inviting, his dark eyes hungrily roaming over you and hoping, praying, that it’d been him instead. These were all wrong – so why were you walking towards Belleview?

“Your Highness?”

Airi’s voice snapped you out of your trance. Blinking, you smiled back at her in apology and continued. “Sorry, I must have been lost in my thoughts. As I was saying, though, I spent most of my life hiding behind my parents’ shadows because I struggled talking to people. And then the Crown Prince came and swept me off my feet, which changed everything. When he came into my life, I figured I had to become someone worthy enough to stay by his side, someone he could be proud to be with. It took a lot of years and effort before I could be confident enough to say I was good enough for him,” you mumbled, stopping in your tracks to look up into the dark horizon before you.

Huh. Why hadn’t you realized that before?

You’d been trying so hard to impress Rintaro all along. Isn’t that why you were so frustrated? You’d spent years molding yourself to become who he wanted, only to be slapped in the face that it was impossible because you could never be her.

You let out a dry laugh. “But apparently not. He already had someone else.”

“I’m really sorry you were dragged into this. From the stories Prince Shinsuke tells me, you’re a kind woman who deserved better.”

“I don’t know about that,” you said, “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t mad upon reading the tabloids about his affair? If anything, I was just furious he couldn’t stay out of trouble and ruined my trip to Itachiyama.”

“Did you like it there?”

“I loved it. I wanted to stay.”

Admitting it out loud felt… liberating. You were beginning to feel more like yourself, even if it meant being less of a Princess and more of this unorthodox woman who simply wanted to be. It must be the side effect of spending time with Kiyoomi. You would soon care less about the rules imposed on you, and unapologetically be yourself.

“But the world sure has a cruel way of bringing you back to reality.”

“Your Highness?”

Both yours and Airi’s head snapped at the sound. Amongst the rustling of the bushes, a tall figure suddenly appeared – all mighty and regal even in his creased blouse and loosely tied breeches. His hair, dark and tousled like he’d run his fingers through it, did little to hide the surprise on his face.

“My Prince,” you breathed out, “What are you doing out here so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And you?”

You fought back a smile at his raspy voice. You could almost picture it – Kiyoomi tossing and turning all night in a bed separate from Iris. The sanguine voice in your head fibbed, too, wondering if the Prince thought about you as well. “It’s a restless night,” was all you let on, and gestured to the shock-still maid beside you. “Airi, do you mind giving us some privacy?”

Vehemently, she shook her head. “Not at all, Princess. Please, call for me if you need anything. I won’t be far.”

You waited as Airi disappeared from sight before you stepped closer to the Prince, compelled by an invisible force to be closer to him. “Kiyoomi–”

“Are you well?”

“Me? Why do you ask?”

He tipped his head to the side, causing a lone curl to fall in front of his eye. You fought back the urge to brush it away, beguiled by his long fingers sweeping it away “You’re in a very difficult position right now, whatnot with the article spreading,” he gestured back to the castle, “Has he spoken to you?”

You shook your head. “He’s kept to himself the past few days. I think this is a lot harder on him than it looks. As for me, well… I’ve had better days.”

True to your word, Rintaro almost secluded himself from the world. He shut off his phone, chucked it at another corner of the room, and never touched it again. It was painful seeing your husband that way when you know of his hobby of endless scrolling. But now, he couldn’t stomach the social media wishing him ill, seeing so blatantly with his own eyes his people’s deference to him. It hurt – more so for him than you – but still, a small part of you wished he’d say something. You were there, were you not?

You cut off your trip short because your husband needed you, and he barely uttered a word since you arrived. It got at your nerves. Nevertheless, you’d give him the time he needed. You planned to keep to your word that you would fix this all for him, regardless of what that might take.

You weren’t so cruel to let your husband be dragged into the pits of hell. Because quite frankly, that wasn’t the media’s right to begin with. If anyone would unleash hell upon Rintaro and Iris, it had to be you.

Kiyoomi scanned your face. “You don’t seem upset about all of this.”

You shrugged. “Their secret would’ve gone out one way or another. It was only a matter of time. Besides, I have far, bigger things to worry about, like you,” you leveled your gaze with his, watching as the Prince sucked in a breath.

Your last conversation with him the past night still played in your mind. It ate away at you to have to say goodbye when you didn’t want to, but he was here now. You woldn’t waste the opportunity to make things right.

Steeling yourself, you shut your eyes tight to gather courage. “Kiyoomi… Your Highness. I… I do not wish to stop talking to you. I know I sound absurd because I haven’t known you that long, but everything we shared in Itachiyama, I cherish it. I won’t forget a single memory I shared with you. So please allow me to take back what I said. I didn’t mean it when I said I would stop talking to you.”

“You should, though.” Opening your eyes, your heart dropped into your stomach when the Prince took a step back. “I don’t think we can be friends, Princess.”

Your hands grew cold and clammy.

“W-Why not? Have I done something to offend you? Tell me, and I will correct it–”

“We cannot be friends because I do not wish to be just your friend.”

Whatever distance he created between you disappeared. In the blink of an eye, Kiyoomi had closed the gap in one smooth stride, leaning down close enough his nose nearly brushed yours.

You inhaled sharply at the proximity. Kiyoomi’s heat blanketed you, making you realize you’d been shivering from the cold prior to his arrival. Now, he was here, and your senses were filled to the brim with him – his scent, his warmth, his frame looming over yours making you feel protected instead of small. You couldn’t help it; your fingers twitched to pull him by his collar and finally have his lips pressed to yours. It’d been eating away at you for several nights.

A peck couldn’t hurt.

But you made no move, greedily sharing in the same breaths instead. Because if it was all you could have, then it was all you could get.

“You’re right. It does sound absurd. We have barely spoken to one another, yet I’m already tired  of this stupid game my brother is playing – his foolish plans to become King, make my wife his concubine, all with the intention of keeping you around like a pet. It makes my blood boil,” Kiyoomi grinned, though it was more sinister than genuine. “He cannot have everything for himself. I will not let him.”

“My Prince. I–”

“–Don’t get me wrong. I’m not in love with you, nor do I have any intentions of stooping down to Rintaro’s level and stealing what isn’t mine,” cruel, you think, as the Prince effectively cut you off with a brush of his thumb to your lips. You were now putty at his hands; melting and knees weakened with nothing but his touch holding you up. “But I am tired of seeing you this distraught over a man who cannot see your worth. I have had enough. So whatever plans you may have to retaliate, tell me, and I will gladly be a pawn in your game. Make your move. You may command me as you please.”

It took a moment before his words dawned on you. When it did, your palms flattened on his chest, absorbing its warmth and feeling the flutter of his heart underneath your fingertips. He felt so alive, whole, and well – you couldn’t possibly drag him into your mess.

“I could never use you like that. You know this.”

“So you do have a plan in mind,” he noted with a smirk, fingers crawling up to circle your wrist. “My brother really underestimated you, hasn’t he? You’re already proving to be far more dangerous than any sword.”

You flushed warm at his compliment. Pretty, yes, Rintaro has called you that multiple times. Beautiful, gorgeous, even, but dangerous? It made you feel powerful, like the crown was already on your head, and the kingdom was all yours for the taking. But greed often started out as a small flicker of fire, and you stomped on it as quickly as it breathed into life. You were no thrill seeker – you would not dabble or tread in dangerous, unknown, forbidden paths. Such paths like Kiyoomi, but it was there. The temptation. The calling to just reach out to the hand he’s offered.

Its voice beckoned you. Come, it whispered oh-so-sweetly at your ear, he is your puppet.

You bit the inside of your cheek in contemplation. “It isn’t a good plan at all, and the Queen has summoned us – all of us – to inform us of her decisions on how we will proceed with this scandal. There’s a good chance Her Majesty might get in the way, but I’m determined. I need this plan to work.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“I plan on turning the tables around and pinning it on Iris. I know it’s dangerous – she’s your wife, and you might get caught in the crossfire–”

“Do as you please.”

“Are you serious?”

Kiyoomi nodded with resolve. “When I said I do not wish to be just your friend, I meant it. I want you to use me. I want to be your weapon,” nudging his nose with yours, he brought up your hand to his lips, kissing the glimmering diamond on your ring. A kiss of rebellion, a war cry, or a silent plea to be dominated – it said everything and too little all at once. “If there is anything I can do to help you escape this royal hell, I will do it.”

You closed your fist around his lips, and basked in the ghostly flutters it will leave upon your skin hours after he has gone. Then, you questioned it all: how could something so poignant evoke a raging will within you?

“It will be hard for you, Your Highness,” you warned him, “My plan is not a kind one.”

“I do not have very kind thoughts myself,” he chuckled, the sound dark and ominous. “But you should be careful, Princess. Iris is not who you think she is. If you are to proceed with your plan, you need to watch out for yourself, and Maiko especially.”

Maiko? What could Maiko’s involvement with Iris be?

“She won’t hurt Maiko, will she?”

“She wouldn’t dare, but I can’t guarantee she won’t try doing something to you,” with a wary gaze, Kiyoomi immediately masked it with that of indifference. Scanning the surroundings, and hearing nothing but the crickets of insects and the rustling of bushes from the wind, Kiyoomi wrapped a protective arm around your waist. “It’s getting late. Let me walk you back. Iris is probably somewhere close.”

You were never one to feel much fear, but in that moment, a sense of numbing chill settled in your bones. Goosebumps arose on your skin. It was almost like you could feel it – her sharp gaze, her wicked and deceivingly innocent smile. You shivered despite yourself and huddled closer to the Prince, letting him guide you through the garden’s maze when his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“Do you wish to know what would make Iris tick?”

“What?”

“It may be Rintaro who she wants,” his breathy voice caressed you, sending a different set of shivers down your spine. “But it is I whom she would kill to keep. Present yourself as a threat, make her believe you can steal me from her, and you will find her willingly offering Rintaro to you.”

You scoffed. “And if I don’t want him?”

“Then you shall always have me.”

Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi…

The Prince’s last words haunted you. Moreover, the way he looked with the moonlight illuminated upon him… he felt surreal. He came to you in your dreams more than once, caressing you in places he shouldn’t be touching, filling you in ways you never thought possible. A part of you wondered if it was merely your brain coping with the fact you’d mistakenly lain in bed with Rintaro. How you’ve felt disgusted with yourself ever since, and found it hard to look in the mirror. Perhaps it was simply a trick of the brain – replacing the man who left marks on you with the man that could’ve made you feel better. And you knew Prince Kiyoomi would – with those large, calloused hands, and luscious lips you spent countless hours gazing upon… would it be such a sin to wish they hadn’t been dreams only?

Picking up the nearby body wash, you scrubbed yourself clean of Rintaro. Your body still ached from last night’s events, but your heart clenched for an entirely different reason. Seriously. You couldn’t believe it. First, he’d let himself get caught in the action, and you let him sleep with you? You could’ve pushed him away. You could’ve said no.

It didn’t have to lead to whatever happened last night.

But then again, laughing to yourself, why did you chastise yourself so much? He was your husband. You were both married – sleeping with him wasn’t a mistake. Yet why did it feel like it? It felt as if… you kept on letting him take and take from you. How long until you’ve had enough? How much more could you give before there was nothing left of you?

You sighed, sinking deeper under the water. It’d been hours since your previous encounter with the older prince, and he hadn’t left your mind since. His offer for you to make use of him like he was a weapon, or worse, a tool, wasn’t an opportunity you could let pass by.

You could make use of him. He had more access to Iris than you ever could, and planting spies in Belleview Manor sounded terrible. She’d probably won over their loyalty judging by the way they kept their mouths shut that first night you arrived there to give her tea for her ‘headache.’ She had secrets, that you were sure of, but did Kiyoomi know them too? What was her connection with Maiko? Surely… Maiko wasn’t involved in whatever schemes they had in mind. The Princess was too sweet and innocent for that, but then again, so was Iris. The so called ‘dear friend’ of your boyfriend before he’d asked for your hand in marriage.

This was proving to be nearly impossible.

It was hard to tell who to trust within the Palace. Kita would be at your side, but you couldn’t possibly involve him in your plan. He might not even approve of it. It would be against the law, and it wasn’t the kindest thing one could think of. Kita would call it ‘the opposite of justice.’

“I hope the meeting went well, Princess?”

Popping your head from the water, you watched as Airi entered the room, folded towels in her arms. She’d prepared a bath for you long before you arrived, the water warm and filled with bubbles – just how you liked it. The room smelled faintly of roses, too, and you made a mental note to thank Airi for her efforts.

“It was great. His Highness and I discussed a lot,” he almost kissed me, too, but she didn’t need to know that, or the fact you wished he did. “Oh, and Airi.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

You pondered over it, you really did it. It was out of your character to abuse the power you had, yet you couldn’t stop the heat flaring in your veins. The pettiness that begged to be revealed. “Could you have someone call L’Essenxe Royale? Tell them I want them to discontinue their Vanilla Candy line because I’m allergic to it, and it would be a shame if I had to stop purchasing their perfumes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Airi nodded, stopping in her tracks after a beat. “I wasn’t informed you were allergic to vanilla. I’m sorry, I’ll do better in catering to your needs more.”

“I’m not allergic. I just don’t want to smell Iris ever again.”

Just before Airi could respond, the doors swung open. Suna sauntered in like he owned the place, the top three buttons of his white shirt undone and loose. His collarbones and the top of his chest shone with sweat, his skin flushed and his dark hair messily swept to the sides. He must’ve gone for his early training – and damned him for looking good.

You snorted inwardly. But Prince Kiyoomi probably looked better.

“There you are. I didn’t get to see you before I left.”

“Airi, please give us a moment,” you requested from where you sat, arms lazily resting on the sides of the tub. Airi scurried out of the room with reddened cheeks – no doubt picturing what events could transpire between a naked wife and her insatiable husband. And speaking of said husband, he’d leant against the pristine white walls, arms crossed against his chest as he let those dark, hooded eyes roam over your exposed skin.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I think the real pleasure here is this view.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is that what you told your mistress too when you fucked her in my bed?”

Suna paused. It was a bait; he was sure of it. Choosing not to bite at your provocation, he pushed his weight off the wall and gestured to the doors. “You redecorated the room,” he announced, “Without my permission.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission. I thought we made it clear – under your suggestion – that I was to sleep in that bed, and you take the couch outside. Technically, that would make it my room, no?”

“You made Airi burn the sheets.”

“Sue me.”

“You threw away Iris’ clothes.”

“They barely counted as clothes, Your Highness. They were just thongs.”

“If this is about last night–”

“Last night was a mistake. Never speak of it again,” you warned, and just the mere reminder that you’d let him have his way with you, and you were too weak to refuse, again, no longer made the relaxing bath enjoyable. All of Airi’s efforts poured down the drain because having Suna around had your muscles stiffening with tension again. Rising from the bath, you wiped off the bubbles and suds off your body before stepping out. “What did you truly come here for? You never bother me when I’m bathing.”

Suna’s hungry gaze followed your every movement. The perverted bastard wasn’t even trying to hide it – his poor attempts of adjusting his breeches a failure once you’d put on your robe. “Her Majesty has summoned us for breakfast. She has an important announcement to make. I suggest you make haste so she won’t be anymore upset with us.”

“With you, you mean,” you waved around your lip balm, “What? Don’t look so offended. I am not the one who caused a scandal here.”

“I’m tired of arguing with you.”

You couldn’t agree more. Smacking your lips together, you walked past him, making sure to sashay your hips as you did. But before you could leave the room, Suna’s hand shot out to wrap it around your wrist. Gently, he pulled you back into him until your breasts brushed with his chest, the dampness of your robe making his shirt stick even harder on his skin.

 “Wait,” he breathed out, not once taking his eyes off you as he blindly swiped for a towel. “Let me dry you off properly. It would be a shame if you made a mess on your newly decorated room.”

Your husband fell down on his knees before you could say a word.

You almost asked him what he was doing when his hands tugged at the ties of your robes, his tender touch pushing them past your shoulders until the robe pooled at your feet. You inhaled sharply. Suna was kneeling before you, caressing your leg and urging you to place at his thigh. You don’t know what compelled you to obey, but you did. Resting it on his leg, you felt too exposed – his nose was right at your stomach, his hands touching everywhere but that one place near your heat.

It was torture.

The entire act was done with slow, purposeful motions. Like an artist taking great care with his sculptures, he pressed hard on your hips to keep you in place when you shivered. His strength, his silent gestures that he wouldn’t let you slip and fall – it broke your heart.

Why couldn’t he love you?

Why couldn’t he touch you this way and mean it?

Why did he have to remove his ring?

The glint of the golden material caught your attention from the vanity. You picked it up where he left it last night, unconsciously hugging it to your chest until you fell asleep. Until now, you’d brought it with you, and stared at it hard enough it might’ve melted. It never did, just as he would never belong to you. And then – his finger swiped over your nipple, the cloth on his hands now damp and his breath staggering as he moved to kiss your bare stomach.

You pushed his head away.

Suna stumbled back, barely. He sat there with a dazed expression, the towel he used to dry you with now forgotten. His hands shook in his lap, his eyes blown wide with something you couldn’t quite name – longing, regret, frustration. Whatever it was, it matched yours.

“I’m dry enough,” you told him, snatching off his ring from the counter and flicking it his way. The two of you watched as it stumbled along the ground with a loud clink, clink, clink, before it rolled right at his feet. When you finally found the courage to speak, your voice was so quiet – you couldn’t hear yourself at all. “Wear it. I don’t care that it no longer means anything to you. I won’t have you causing anymore problems for me when your mother asks about it.”

When you and Suna sat next to each other at the dining hall, neither of you spoke a word.

In fact, not a single person present dared to. Her Majesty sat at the head of the table, the clink of her utensil the only thing audible as she furiously cut into her steak. She was furious, that much was obvious. Even Crown Prince Ushijima hadn’t touched his meal, and his young son, barely a boy of eight, had his lips shut the entire time.

Finally, she takes a bite, takes a huge drink of her wine, and slams the glass down. All of you jump at the sound.

“It is not every day we can all be gathered here, but as you are all aware, it is a trifling time for the Crown. We as the royal family need to be united now more than ever,” she announced, her back straight as she looked everyone in the eye. “Which is why I am here to inform everyone of some minor changes we will implement from now on, and some events we have planned for the next season. First of all, Princess–” she pointed her knife your way, “-I need you to hold your mother back. She’s getting on my nerves with all her incessant calling.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she lifted her chin, “Your Mother hasn’t stopped bugging me ever since that article was released. She demands I return her to you, but I think she forgets her place and yours. You are a Princess now; you are the Crown’s property. You are to stay here and see to your duties until you take your last breath.”

Forcing a smile, you willed yourself to calm down. “My mother was merely concerned, Your Majesty. I’m sure she doesn’t mean any harm.”

“Which is exactly why I’m telling you to tell her to stand down. I have already spoken with my advisors our next course of action and have all decided that we will deny Rintaro and Iris’ affair by all means. We are to pretend as if the article never existed. We need to show we are the Crown, the monarchs and rulers of this grand kingdom. We will not be swayed by measly gossip and defaming rumors.”

“But it wasn’t a rumor. The Crown Prince did sleep with the Princess.”

Her Majesty sighed, the sound dramatically drawn out. “Do you have any complaints, my dear? Because if you did, then you should have attended the meeting this morning.”

You gritted your teeth. “I wasn’t informed there was one.”

“That’s a shame – I thought Rintaro would tell you. It seems he likes to keep his secrets, then,” she jabbed, and your husband nervously sipped his wine as you glared at the sides of his head. “Now, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, we planned a few events for this season. For this month, the four of you will be showing up to public events and you are to appear united in marriage. Laugh, kiss, hold hands – I do not care. Just make sure the cameras get it, and if anyone dares ask on any clarifications about the affair, simply tell them that it is very easy to fabricate photographs nowadays. You will deny everything. Understand?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” agreed Suna, and you scoffed. Snaking his hands under the table, he squeezed yours in assurance and whispered, “Don’t cause a scene in front of the Queen. We will talk later about this.”

“I was hoping we would.”

“Next, Iris and Y/N will be having weekend dates to show they are friends. We have already contacted an orphanage you will pay a visit to. Play with the kids, read storybooks with them, and get as many pictures as possible. Not only will it show that there’s camaraderie between you two, but hanging out with children will also imply that we can expect a next line of heirs soon.”

“A splendid idea!” Atsumu beamed, the first to dig into his meal. Rather, the Prince was halfway finished stuffing his mouth, happily rubbing his hands together at the thought. “This will all be good for the Crown, and to win the people’s trust back.”

“You really don’t know how to shut up, huh?” muttered Osamu.

“Your Majesty. Don’t you think this is going too far?” Tobio spoke up, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up. Beside him, Prince Shinsuke was pleading for him to sit back down. The youngest Prince merely slapped his hands away, looking betrayed by his brother’s words. “Why is no one speaking up? Is this how the royal family really is? You would all lie to your people, deceive them we are all in one heart and mind when we are not. Is that the kind of rulers we aspire to be? Are we really the rulers they look up to?”

Prince Shinsuke pinched the bridge of his nose. “I understand you’re upset, but the throne wouldn’t have lasted this long if none of us pulled some strings and kept up deceiving acts. Trust me, I also do not wish to take a part in this, but Her Majesty is right. The people are already growing restless that we have been without a King for years – having Crown Prince Rintaro’s reputation tarnished will not make this better. And as far as I know, there are still many protests against having an illegitimate child on the throne,” he reminded, causing Prince Ushijima to clear his throat awkwardly. Still, Shinsuke pushed on. “Rintaro is the King the Cabinet wants. We must follow the law. Ushijima can only be crowned King until we have ran out of options.”

Your jaw dropped.

“And what of me?”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, the future of the Kingdom is a heavier matter at hand than your broken heart,” Iris quipped, “Besides, if you knew about our relationship prior to the marriage, then you cannot blame anyone but yourself. You’re in this predicament because you were too cowardly to let go when given the chance.”

“That’s enough!” Tobio yelled. “You all need to stop talking about her like that. You’re all right – the Crown is more important. We need a stable ruler and for the people to not lose their trust in us. But the Princess is still a human. She was lied to, manipulated, and constantly looked down on. The least you can do right now is let her acknowledge her pain, seeing as it is clearly too much for each and every one of you to be decent human beings!”

Her Majesty paid him no mind. Waving her hand in the air dismissively, she sighed. “He is young. He will understand someday.”

At her nonchalance, Tobio’s nostrils flared. It was the last you saw of him before he kicked his chair back, storming out of the hall before everyone erupted into protests. Keiji slunk back into his seat, Shinsuke was immediately making efforts to appease the Queen by apologizing on everyone’s behalf, and Maiko was crying. And you? You glowered at the Queen before following after Tobio, the three other Princes right at your heels.

The doors slammed shut behind you.

You could hear the Princes running after you. Two pairs were rushing, but one pair of footfalls sounded more like stomping. Before you could turn down the hall where Tobio went, you were dragged by, Suna firmly gripping your elbow as he halted you in your tracks.

“Her Majesty was speaking,” he hissed, fingers digging harder to your skin. “Don’t be rude.”

“Oh, fuck off, Rintaro. I can’t believe you right now. Letting me be friends with your mistress? Really? And you didn’t even tell me there was a meeting this morning!”

His free hand ran through his hair. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you would act like this. You would’ve embarrassed me in front of the advisors. Besides, you left before I could–”

“I embarrass you? Do you even hear yourself? You’re the embarrassing one for going behind my back and sleeping with your mistress–”

“She’s not my mistress!”

“Isn’t she? I wasn’t aware there was another word to describe a woman frolicking with a married man!”

His grip grew tighter as he spoke, and you squeaked out in pain. You tried to pry his fingers off of you, but Suna wasn’t having any of it. “You’re one to talk, leaving me here in this country to go around dancing with my brother–” Your husband’s face disappeared before you. In the blink of an eye, he was shoved nearly across the room and falling right at his ass.

Kiyoomi stood protectively over you, his chest rising and falling as he shook with anger.

“Stay away from my wife!”

Meanwhile, Tooru dodged between Suna and Kiyoomi, the former rising on his feet and reeling his arm back in a punch. Tooru effortlessly caught his brother’s arm, but holding him back was a different struggle of itself. “Rin, that’s enough!”

“Are you okay?”

You blinked back from the scene. Kiyoomi was now holding your arm where Suna grabbed you, checking for any injuries. Aside from a little aching, and a possible bruise that would show up tomorrow, you were unharmed. Still, the Prince wasn’t assured. His thick brows pinched together in concern, turning your arm over and over as he muttered to himself the violent things he wished to do to his brother. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not really, but I want to go after Tobio.”

Kiyoomi nodded in understanding. “Go. I’ll handle this.”

You shared a knowing look with him. I’m on your side, his eyes said, and that was enough to reassure you. Giving him a nod, you quickly turned on your heels and ran. You ran and ran until you were out of breath, your corset digging into you uncomfortably. The youngest Prince sure was a fast one – he’d already reached his own study in such a short time.

Peeking through the partially closed door, your heart broke at the sight.

Prince Tobio sat on his painter’s stool, an unfinished portrait of you – smiling in your wedding dress – lay before him. He was crying, sniffling to himself and wiping his tears with the collar of his blouse. Even the sounds of his cries were too painful to hear.

Shutting the door behind you, you took your place behind him, gently squeezing his shoulders to make him look up. When he did, his bloodshot eyes greeted you.

“I’m sorry you had to witness all of that,” you tell him softly, “I didn’t mean to ruin breakfast for you.”

Tobio shook his head. He pulled out a handkerchief before blowing on it, and you smiled despite yourself – he’d grown so much, yet he was still that sweet, naïve boy in your eyes. It felt like a lifetime ago when he had his debut, and now he was flourishing into such a great, young man. Your little brother, the sweetest Prince – you would do anything for him.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, sis. You’re the victim here.”

You laughed a little. Victim sounded too poor of a word choice. Turning to the canvas before you, you gestured to it. “What are you painting?”

“You,” he admitted with red cheeks, “I started on this when Rintaro announced he’d be marrying you so I could give it as a wedding gift. But Her Majesty wanted me to focus on my studies, so I didn’t have enough time to finish. I mean, it’s not even the same dress you wore on your wedding so it’s inaccurate–”

“-It looks beautiful.”

“It’s still unfinished,” his shoulders slumped in your flattery before he lightened up, already moving to pick up the brushes as he wiped his snot with his hanky. “Since you’re here, would you like me to paint you as you are now? I’ll get a new canvas.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to lose all your efforts on your previous painting.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured, and per his instruction, you sat stiffly to ‘pose’ for him. It’s a little awkward, and Tobio struggled to sketch you each time you fidgeted, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. Midway through his sketch, though, he placed his pencil down, his eyes brimming with tears again. “I still can’t believe Rintaro was capable of being so cruel. I’ll never forgive him for what he did,” he said, his lower lip quivering. “Are they really like this? Is everyone in the Palace truly so heartless? Will I… never find love of my own, too?”

“Oh, Tobio,” you reached your arms out, crushing him to your chest. The Prince’s tears dampened your dress, though you paid it no mind. He was too young for all this hurt – this war over the crown. He was too good for a cruel place like this. “It will get easier someday.”

Fisting your skirt, he buried his face to your neck, his whole body shivering under you. “I never wanted to be a Prince. I-I wanted to keep playing sports and go pro someday. There’s a whole world out there for me to see, and I’m so afraid I’ll never become the person I want to be. I’m afraid I might turn out like my brothers.”

You pulled back to make him look at you. Cupping his face with your hands, you shook your head firmly. “That’s not true, Tobio. You’re already a thousand times better than your brothers. Look, you’re sweet, kind, and passionate. Who says you don’t deserve to achieve your dreams? You can be who you want to be. You can see the world. I promise you that I’ll support you in anything you want to do. Anything.”

“Really?” grinning, he wiped his cheeks free from his tears. “Then… will you come to my game? There’s a match and the Coach just added me to the team. It… Well, it might be a good opportunity for you and everyone else to show you’re unaffected by the scandal, too.”

“Oh, forget the scandal. I only want to see you play,” you tell him, and the Prince’s innocent smile is so big and bright it soothed all the aches in your heart. You promised to yourself, then and there, that you would do what it takes to protect that smile. “Now, should we get to this painting?”

That talk with Tobio filled you with unwavering resolve.

The poor boy didn’t deserve to spend a minute longer in the Palace. It simply wasn’t a place for him. He needed to be out there, living his life to the fullest, and to be surrounded by good people who were healthy for him. Not his greedy, cheating brothers, and most especially not with the heartless Queen as his only mother figure.

You had to do something for him. You had to weaken the throne even further, exploit their weakness and make the monarchy crumble. If not for you, then you would do it for Tobio.

It was the reason you’d gained enough courage to dial the number weighing heavily in your pockets long before Itachiyama. That piece of paper Kiyoomi slipped into your coat just before you parted ways. You should’ve known it back then – Kiyoomi was somehow always one step ahead of you. It’s like he knew what you wanted to happen before you said out loud. What you needed before you told him what it was. And you’d done it – scheduled the meeting, hired a private chauffer, and rented out a restaurant in the middle of nowhere at the dead time of the night before you could change your mind.

Do it For Tobio. For Kiyoomi. For you.

He arrived not a minute later than the designated time. He stood tall and confident – seemingly unbothered by the mass of hate he’d accumulated. Sauntering in through the doors with a smirk, he let out a low whistle, impressed with the lack of people. You had promised him privacy, after all, and if you wanted to succeed in your plans, you couldn’t be shy in splurging a little bit of money.

“Kuroo Tetsurou, was it?”

“Your Highness,” he greeted with a bow, his smile growing wider as he pulled out his chair. He’s handsome, with a smile you wouldn’t deem trustworthy, and he held an aura to him that warned you to tread carefully. He was, after all, the man who singlehandedly exposed your husband’s affair. “I am flattered by your efforts, though I must admit. I did not expect you would reach out to me of all people. I assumed you wanted my head.”

You offer him a polite smile. “You have it all wrong. In fact, I’m thankful for the opportunity you’ve presented to me,” leaning forward, you slid a thin envelope his way. Inside it contained a document of your own words, one you trusted Kuroo would twist to sound more convincing. “I want you to publish another article.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened. He waited for a beat, a moment or two, for you to say you didn’t mean it. You could’ve been joking. But you hold his gaze, your smile just as firm, refusing to waver from his intense gaze. “With all due respect, Ma’am, I think I’m already in enough trouble for that last one.”

Fair enough. You didn’t think he’d be that easy to convince.

Reaching beside you, you pulled out a case and clicked open the locks for him. If Kuroo was surprised before, he was most definitely flabbergasted by now. Wads of cash piled against each other stared back at him – temping him to reach out and take it. Smiling to yourself, you gently nudged the case in his direction.

“This is half of what I’ll pay you. I’ll pay you twice as much once you’ve done your part,” you promised, “You don’t need to fear, Mr. Kuroo. I’ll guarantee your protection if you do this for me.”

Kuroo chuckled to himself. Shutting the case back shut, he was quick to slide it to his side – deal done and closed. “If a lovely Princess is asking so nicely, I can’t possibly turn it down, can I?” pulling out a small notebook from his coat, Kuroo uncaps his pen with a twist of his teeth. “So let’s get into it. What story do you want, Ma’am? Do you want the truth or… something more scandalous than your husband’s affair?”

“I want you to ruin Iris,” you declared, “Inside that envelope is a list of people the Princess frequently interacts with, as well as records from her history dating back from when she moved here with mother. I want you to look into everything and pick apart whatever could destroy her reputation. There are secrets that she keeps, and I want them out in the public.”

Kuroo doesn’t bother writing that down. “Her reputation is well ruined already, Ma’am. I doubt much could make it worse.”

Your brow shoots up. “Are you doubting my abilities or questioning my demands?”

“Neither,” he reassured with a mischievous grin, “I shall write something about her, then, but what about the Crown Prince? Do I still have the assurance of your protection if he comes after me for messing with his precious little thing?”

Oh, please. His ‘precious little thing’ doesn’t even want him.

Spinning your wedding finger with your thumb, you stared at it. “Tell me, Kuroo. You’re a journalist, one that wasn’t invited at that private party my husband was in. So why were you there that night? Most importantly, how did you get their photos?” you brought your gaze back up to him, “You’re not secretly planning for the downfall of the crown, are you?”

Kuroo scratched the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Your Highness. But to answer your question, then no, I wasn’t invited. I wouldn’t even know a single thing about their affair if it wasn’t for one of you.”

“One of us?” you echoed, “Are you saying someone in the royal family hired you as well?”

“Indeed. Though I must say, I never expected working with just one of you could have me set for life. What more if I teamed up with you too?”

So your theories were right. That article didn’t appear out of nowhere – someone wanted it to happen. “It was Iris, wasn’t it? She asked you to publish that because she knew I was with her husband… but that wouldn’t make any sense. That article puts her in a bad light. It couldn’t be her, right?”

“You’ll be surprised, Ma’am, but it was not the Princess,” he clarified.

Kuroo’s face pinched in contemplation, and then suddenly, pulls out a different phone from his pockets. It’s a beat-up iPhone with its battery nearly dead, but with a few clicks here and there, the video played loud and clear. The camera is shaky, the angles all wrong. Whoever recorded it clearly seemed to be inebriated. Yet there it was – the unmistakable masculine voice groaning, the slapping of skin against each other, and a high-pitched womanly moan. The camera caught nothing but long, blond hair flowing on top of her bouncing breasts before the camera was flipped, finally showing the culprit –

“Atsumu?”

Atsumu gripped Yuki’s hips, shoving the phone between their bodies to show the pistoning of his cock in and out of her. There was no point denying it now. Both their faces were clear from the video, and if this got out…

Kuroo paused the video. “I’m not supposed to be showing you this, but the Prince hasn’t kept up to his end of the bargain, so I might as well ask for your help, too,” shutting the phone off, Kuroo rested his chin on his hands. “That night, he slept with an intoxicated actress and accidentally filmed themselves in the act. The Prince was drunk himself, made the mistake of posting that video online, and merely eighteen minutes later, any traces of their sex tape disappeared. Curious?”

The pieces of the puzzle finally fit.

“He called you to write about Iris and Rintaro to cover up his scandal.”

He snapped his fingers. “Bingo! And he succeeded, even if it was an impulsive decision on his side. Still, the Prince paid me handsomely because he was desperate, but he hasn’t offered me protection like he promised. I’m being hunted down by the Queen’s goons as we speak. Isn’t that why you offered to have me chauffeured here?”

You knew Kuroo prioritized his safety over money due to his current predicament. It was the reason why you risked sneaking out of the Palace and meeting him alone. His terms were clear – no witnesses, no guards, just you and him. You would keep to your word if it meant cornering Iris, but with Atsumu and that poor actress thrown into the mix… things just got more complicated.

Reaching out for Kuroo, you squeezed his hand. “You will be safe with me. I promise you this.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

You glanced at the iPhone between you two. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Kuroo, but now that you know he’d do pretty much anything for money, you couldn’t risk it. It wasn’t just Atsumu’s reputation you were worried about – firstly, Rintaro would kill him if he found out it was all his doing. Second, that poor actress. She rose to fame in her career recently; this would ruin her image. If things took the wrong turn, who was to stop the Queen from forcing the two to get married if that tape was leaked? You couldn’t risk any cracks in your plan.

“Kuroo, may I have that phone?”

“It’s all yours if you throw in another five grand, Princess.”

“Consider it mine then.”

You and Kuroo left immediately after everything was settled. Just as promised, you would cover all his travel expenses. He would stay overseas to ensure his protection while he reached out to his connections to get all the information he needed, and once the article was ready, he’d publish it and disappear from the media. You covered that too – he was paid enough to live comfortably while in hiding. Now, you only needed to wait for everything to go according to plan.

First, the downfall of Iris. Next, her separation with Kiyoomi without having to let Rin ascend to the throne. And once she’s finally out of the picture, you’ll move on to your beloved husband. You’ll seduce him, have him fall completely to your whim, make him realize he could never have anyone like you again – and once he’s wrapped around your finger, you’ll plea for divorce.

A heart for a heart. A marriage for a marriage.

And if the odds play into your favor at the end of it all, there’s only one destination in mind: Kiyoomi’s farmhouse in Itachiyama.

You smiled to yourself – it would work out. You had a good feeling about it. Kiyoomi is supporting you and acting as your spy, Kita is backing you up on the grounds for divorce, and the nation has unwaveringly showed their support for you in these trying times. After all, you were just the poor, neglected wife. They expected you to spend your days crying and chasing after your deceitful husband, or to simply take it all – be silent and smile for the cameras.

Fuck what the Queen said. You won’t let her win.

Driving back to the Palace, you glanced at the time. It’s almost four in the morning, and soon, Her Majesty would be beginning her routine and expecting her daily calls from the Princes. Pressing harder on the gas, you sped up until a glint catches your eye. You glance at the rearview mirror, eyes widening at the fast approaching car from behind – a sleek, black car with the royal family’s crest on it. Shit. But – it couldn’t be the royal guards. You’d made sure no one would see you, and Airi had gotten your note to slip some sleeping pills into Rintaro’s tea so you could sneak out. Kiyoomi was informed of your plans, too, and he’d reassured he’d hold the fort down while you dealt with Kuroo.

Unless Iris had snooped through his phone and found everything out, then –

You wasted no time. You drove faster, reaching for the gun in your glove compartment as the roaring of the car behind you moved in closer and closer. Heart pounding in your chest, you speed-dialed Kiyoomi, praying to any God who was listening that he would pick up. It couldn’t be Iris, it shouldn’t be her. God forbid she does anything to provoke you into pulling the trigger.

Infidelity was one thing, but the murder of a royal family member was not something one could merely frown at. You didn’t want to be thrown into jail.

The call did not push through.

“Fuck!” you slammed your feet on the gas, watching as the car sped up even more until it was now next to you. You were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but the mammoth of trees and a never ending road with darkness clouding the path. Just then, the windows rolled down, and you waited with bated breath as the face finally came into view.

Dark hair was the first thing you saw. The windows rolled down, down, down, until you were staring deep into your husband’s eyes. Brow cocked, he smirked, raising the phone to show he’d been calling you – that’s why you couldn’t call Kiyoomi. Suna was interrupting the line. Shit, how was he even awake right now?

Moreover, how did he find you?

You scowled to yourself. There was no outrunning him now. Suna was a ridiculously good driver, and there was no way you would ever use a gun on him. Steeling yourself, you forced yourself to regulate your breathing – your efforts boon when Suna suddenly pressed on forward until he was a feet away from you, maneuvered his car with the hood facing your direction, and then just – stopped.

Bracing your hands on the wheel, you forced all your energy to release its power on the slamming of your brakes. The skidding of your car squeaked for what seemed like minutes until finally – finally – your came to a halt. You were breathing hard, the back of your head aching from the impact of it crashing to the headrest. Meanwhile, Suna opened his car doors in slow, languid movements, the ends of his leather black trench coat hitting the pavement. With nothing but the headlights of his car illuminating him, he looked more like an omen of death than a Prince – dressed in a white turtleneck, black pants, and a long coat that highlighted his tall figure. He looked ominous, like he carried sorrow and pain with him – pain that he was about to make you feel.

Because you knew – of course you knew; you knew him better than anyone – that the placid smile he wore was anything but.

He slammed the car doors shut. Leaning against the hood, Suna’s gloved hands reached for a lighter in his pocket as he lit his cigarette, the stick hanging from between his lips. As soon as it flickered, he pocketed the lighter back, using two of his fingers to make a ‘come hither’ gesture at you.

Clearly, you spoke too early. The odds were not in your favor.

You exited your vehicle, hands gripping the edges of the door as you gathered to courage to take one more step towards him. It wasn’t that you were afraid – he wouldn’t hurt you, not really. But too much could be taken away from you in such little time – Kuroo couldn’t have gone far, and Atsumu’s sex tape was still in the backseat. You didn’t trust Rintaro to not ruin your plans. And you wouldn’t let him, not now when you were so close to victory.

One step, two steps, three steps – your heels clicked against the road as you walked, making sure to keep your chin pointed north. Hips swaying to the side, you finally ended up before him – right between his spread legs – your husband leaning back at the hood of his car whilst he sized you up, his free hand resting behind him.

“Funny seeing you here,” he drawled out, his voice thick with barely-held back rage. “They told me you were sleeping, but last time I checked, driving while falling asleep was illegal.”

“Cheating is also illegal.”

“Your comebacks are getting old, my love.”

Your head snapped to his direction. He hadn’t called you that in forever, not since you’d returned from your honeymoon. To have him call you that now, with such a deeply rich, smooth voice and sounding like he’d just woken up, all breathy and rasp – could it be possible to fuck someone to death?

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” tipping his head to the side, Suna’s lips slowly formed into a smirk. He took a drag of his cigarette, keeping his eyes on yours as he wrapped those lips around the stick – delicately and tantalizingly slow – just like how he did when he worshipped you in bed. You breathed out hard and attempted to take a step back, but he was having none of it. Swiftly, he’d tugged on your shirt to pull you close to him, causing you to stumble and fall into his lap. Above you, your husband’s chest rumbled with amusement.

“Look at you. Always so weak for me.”

He leaned in close, his scent of smoke and expensive woodsy perfume enveloping you. It’s addicting, just as he is, and your knees grew weak. Your legs slid down just as Suna wraps a strong arm around your waist to hitch you back in place, your core resting above his thigh. There, he spreads you open with just his knees, his warm lips suddenly attaching themselves to your neck. You gasped out, hands falling to his shoulders in a measly attempt to pull him away – and oh.

Suna had different plans in mind.

“You,” he breathed in your ear, his gloved fingers popping the button of your blouse one by one. “cannot get rid of me that easily, Your Highness. You can slip in as many drugs you want in my drinks, you can kill me a hundred times and fuck me over again and again, but don’t you dare forget,” growling lowly in your ear, your husband took your chin in his hands and forced you to gaze deep into his eyes – pools of hazel swirling with need and wrath – “Not even death can do us part. I’ll keep on looking for you even if you try to hide at the ends of the earth.”

[krchar]

Ok just a few days ago my mind shifted from work to evil W.I.T.C.H. AU and thinking what kind of evil would the girls be, so i need to share, behold my musings:

I have two versions for Will, sry she's my favourit girl.

She would be evil like Anakin Skywalker, bc her greatest weakness is the fear of loss and fear of her own power (Anakin is a bit more self-assured, that's truth..), doing horrendous stuff out of fear of losing her close ones to betrayal or death, till she loses them truly, because she does the horrendous stuff and then it is already too late and she's filled with furry and pain and feels betrayed. / OR she would just get fed up with all that is demanded from her, with the weight of the Heart and everything, and she would not be able to bear her burden - then she would turn entirely dark, not from powerhunger, but from deep breach (i also like the word breach) of her soul caused by the weight. So she would be like responsibility my ass, but she would never be a happy villain, rather a broken one. And when it happens everyone is like oh shit, because she has a crazy power. (Thinking about that how the hell did they actually take the Heart from Nerissa..?)

Irma would be this sassy evil bitch that makes fun of you as you are in chains and destroys your conscience before destroying the rest of you. She's got a few very close friends, with whom she regularly does evil and who she protects intensely. She has a lot of fun. She might not even have a backstory of becoming evil, just being so, having this aspect, but if she does, it would be something about just doing whatever for her friends, whom she sort of serves, trusting them, choosing, without question, friendship and love over any sense of general justice.

Taranee would be the quiet evil person with a partly sobby backstory of needing to stand her ground and fight for herself, which led her to casting aside any regard for the lives of others, cause the world failed her and she couldn't be bothered (kind of Magneto). She would make surprisingly cold decisions, until anyone steps over the grounds of her free will - she would roast them. She feels a singular fondness for someone from her past, like her brother or maybe one of the Guardians (Will maybe), but she does not share it.

Cornelia would be the dark queen, powerful and encouraging mad devotion, speaking and acting coldly, then letting you fall through an abyss just by waving her hand, with a violently dark anger that is apparent in her face, although it seems she has not moved a single muscle. She feels rightful in her destructive love, but a certain specific love for a good sistergirl might turn her. Maybe like Galadriel's potential herself had she accepted the One Ring from Frodo, only without those weird effects.

Hay Lin would be maniacal evil - a pure chaos, someone not really aware of bad or good, someone who only fleets through the world as a dark fairy and does evil, because it is fun, and who wouldn't do something so fun as hanging a person on a tree easily cause you can fly. She looks and acts cute, and the creepier is her big power and the way she uses it. She used to be a very sensitive caring person, but a great loss of everything she had, loved ones and sense in life included, turned her mind into one without any feeling, principles, or sense, or attention span.

So... my rant over.. thoughts? other suggestions?

[theicarusconstellation]

100-word snippet

ty for the tag my sunshine @ninety-two-bees <3

here’s a little piece about abby anderson and her dad from my the last of us nasa astronauts au (:

To be your father’s only daughter is to bear the burden like a shackle. Your father — your protector — can try his best to alleviate the pain, but he cannot unchain your wrists, cannot unclasp the weights from around your ankles. In the end, you must break them off alone, in the dark, and pray you do not lose his gentleness.

As Abby rides in the passenger seat of her father’s car, she wears her shackles with pride. There is no light through the furious flurry of snow that envelops the car, through its icy grip as frost forms on the edges of the windows and Abby’s breath comes out in huffs of fog. The night leers at them with a masochistic ferocity, yet her father’s driving never falters.

npt: @orbitfalls @angel-daydreams @calamitoustide @transsexualpriest + anyone else who’d like to join

[yankthoudong]

rubyneo and also rosebirds for the bingo

funny that you asked me for these together because they're 100% thematically linked in my mind

this one has been driving me insane for like 2 weeks now and i did pre-prepare this because if no one asked it i was going to anon it to myself lol. i am almost never an enemies to lovers type of shipper and even when i am it's normally about the potential of moving on for me. NOT here. neo redirects all of her self-hatred and blame onto ruby without ruby having any idea what's going on but directing her hero complex against neo as a stand-in for every other villain she has even less of a chance of beating (and most especially as a stand-in for her own failures that she thinks she's defined by) and they hit this dynamic at JUST the right angle to make me Obsessed. wrt the "only works in a specific AU in my head" bit it may well end up here but for now i am continuing to have the hopium that my Ascension theories will come real (regardless of canon romantic outcome). neo's previous Purpose was revenge against ruby, and she was devoted to it to a degree befitting an Afteran more than a human. so, i think her Ascension will go more like an Afteran's than like ruby's: a version of herself will be given different means and/or ends but with the same target in mind. same as what happened to the red monarch and to the paper pleasers/genial gems. the new neo will have a devotion towards ruby, but to help her bear her burdens rather than adding to them. especially since the Blacksmith seems to have liked ruby a good deal.

sorry i talk about this theory every chance i get lol and i don't think this is my best articulation of it. it's taking up a lot of my headspace and i'm not very confident in my personal ability to make a fic out of it for a few reasons. anyway theyre cute together and i think TATT is kinda hot

raven was hesitant to warm up to summer after a lifetime spent fighting for her next meal but when she does she puts her whole soul into it. she left the family because of her insecurities telling her that she would ruin their kids and that was even more unbearable to her than never seeing summer again. but she kept watch over them, a silent guardian ready to protect if necessary but never letting herself look at them, and leapt at the chance to help summer directly again if only to see her. whatever happened on that mission (my money's currently on salem forcing them to fight each other somehow before grimmifying summer) completely broke raven. she threw herself into the bandit life to try to live with the pain, but there is no true living with an emptiness in your soul. so she keeps watch over yang, and possibly ruby, trying to keep her/them out of oz's war as a kind of final tribute. this is how she can make up for her past wrongs, this is how she can live with herself.

[suicide-with-dazai]

"im so sorry for you"

synopsis - xiao struggling with his karmic debt / you comfort him !! - angst kinda , reverse comfort .. modern au but same lore (?) no tws today :)

" i find myself tangled in the threads of my own past , a web of karmic debt that clings to me like an unrelenting shadow . the weight of it all presses on my chest , a heaviness that makes it hard to breathe . tonight , the burden seems insurmountable "

his silhouette is a fragile echo against the dim glow of the room, and as you approach without a word , you slide into the cocoon of blankets beside him . the mattress dips under the combined weight of your shared existence . his presence , usually a comfort , now radiates vulnerability . his breathing is uneven , his chest rises and falls with each staggered breath .

" xiao , " you say softly , your breath a gentle caress against the back of his neck , " i know youre struggling love .. you dont have to bear it alone "

the vulnerability of his pain collides with the gentle warmth of your touch as you wrap your arms around his quivering frame .

at this , his eyes widen , " ive done things ... things i can't undo ."

tears well up in xiaos eyes , glistening like unshed raindrops threatening to spill over . he hides his face in the sheets , an attempt to conceal his evident pain from you . you only hug him closer , tracing small shapes on the bare skin of his back .

" will you face me , love ? " you shuffle back a little , allowing him room to turn over " when youre ready , of course . "

you place a small kiss on his back before sitting up against the headboard .

he nods , but the fear lingers in the depths of his eyes. its a battle he wages within himself , the struggle to believe that he deserves the warmth of your embrace despite the darkness he believes lurks within him . he turns to face you , resting his head on your lap , as if by instinct your hand makes its way to his hair , comfortingly stroking and scratching his scalp lightly every now and again .

" im ... scared " he shudders again . his voice a fragile whisper, and a tear brims in your eye . its not often you find him like this - but this past week , you can almost feel the pain hes carrying .

" 's okay to be scared ... but im here for you ... and i wont let anything hurt you . i promise . "

your hand moves to his back , and you rub slow circles into his skin . with the other hand you pull the covers up to his shoulders .

for a moment , the room is filled only with the quiet exchange of breaths . then , he leans into your touch , as if seeking solace in the haven of your embrace .

his hands , scarred by the echoes of his journey , are hesitant , fingers trembling as they trace the contours of your skin . its as if he expects the sins of his past to seep through his touch , a poison that could tarnish the purity he finds in you .

" i love you , xiao " you utter in a quiet and comforting whisper .

his gaze softens , vulnerability replacing the fear that once clouded his eyes . xiaos tense shoulders gradually ease , and the fear that once held him captive begins to ease - yet it does not dissappear .

as he rests against you, the rhythm of your shared breaths enshroud the excruciating battle in his head .

he becomes calmer , and you lie back down with him by your side . you turn to him and wrap your arms around his body once again .

" 'love you so much "

with a tender kiss to his forehead , and the quiet moments that follow, you guide him into the embrace of sleep .

the depressions hitting hard rn , apologies in advance for all the angst i may write . as always , reqs open .

dont steal my dividers , thank you kindly . if youd like me to make you some then just ask <3 ( gonna start that i think ^^" )

reblogs encouraged and greatly appreciated <3

like my work ? here's my masterlist <3

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

"Farewell"

Paring: Varda/Melkor

AU: Medieval AU

Themes: War of Wrath- Medieval AU version | Angst

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 600+ words

Summary: After the war ends, Varda calls on Melkor while his father decides his fate.

A/n: details of my Medieval AU can be found here.

Melkor lifted his head when he heard the faint sound of heavy boots trampling grass. He sighed, believing his lord father had finally deigned to call on him.

“He is here, my lady,” Eönwë, Lord Commander of his father’s host, and his jailer, said instead. “Shall I remain until you leave?”

“It will not be necessary, Lord Commander,” Varda said. She stood beside him in the open entryway of the tent and peered inside. “But my thanks all the same.”

“My lady,” Eönwë returned. He bowed and waited until she entered the dimly lit tent. “I shall return if you have any need of me,” he said, before taking his leave.

“My lady,” Melkor said when Varda stood before him. He could not rise despite the urge to do so; the others had tied him to a thick wooden pole in the center of the tent he was confined to. “Blood and steel becomes you.”

“Do they?” Varda replied. Her face was splattered with red streaks, and the ends of her azure cloak were covered in mud. Nevertheless, the Lady of Green Grove and mistress of Starfall still looked resplendent as always. Her armor was adorned in deep blue enamel and embellished with twisting silver vines and magnificent silver roses, the sigil of her House. She had removed her great helm, revealing dark hair that had been braided and pinned to keep it out of the way. Melkor could not help but look on appreciatively. “Perhaps I should have a word with the poets,” she added. “They will prove you true or false on this score.”

“Perhaps,” Melkor said. His lips curled up at the edges. “Pray why have you come?”

“To see you one last time,” Varda said, “before your lord father decides what must be done with you. We were once dear to each other, or do you not remember?”

“I do, my lady,” Melkor replied gravely. His back ached after sitting in the same position for what seemed like hours on end, and yet he did not even perceive it; such was the influence Varda’s mere presence had on him. “I remember when I gazed upon you for the first time; for a while, I wondered if I had strayed into a dream.”

“Is that all, my lord?”

“Far from it. I remember how your laughter drove away the foulest of my moods, how the warmth of your embraces made me forget my many burdens. You are a goddess come to earth, a glorious vision made flesh. I considered myself most fortunate to even say that you were mine.”

“And yet it was not enough for you,” Varda said, overwhelmed with anguish. “Naught of what I had and what I was willing to offer was enough for you. ‘Tis such a shame, truly, when I think of all that you could have been, all that you could have possessed, had you chosen a better path instead of the one that led you to the here and now.”

“Such is the fate I chose for myself.” Melkor looked away. He was once a king, and he had a king’s pride. He did not wish Varda to see how her words brought out an ache in his heart. At length, he said, “What will you do now?”

“Await his grace’s decision,” Varda told him. She reached up to touch her cheek, and she found that it was cold and dry. It was a good thing, she thought, for Melkor no longer deserved to bear witness to her tears. And the tears she had once shed had been many. “Then I will return home and seek solace from my companions."

"That is good then," Melkor said. He turned to gaze at her again and he sighed. The time had come for them to part; he could hear a herald shouting in the distance, calling the others to attend the king. It pained him in a way he could not describe. "Farewell, my lady. May good fortune smile on you always."

"Farewell, my lord," Varda smiled sadly. "Perhaps if fate is kind, you and I may meet again."

Tags : @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese

[caswensworld]

Could you do a description of the daughter of Mor'du based on my AU

Mindred

age:???

Family: mother unknown father Mor'du

Relationships: none

Family relationship: quite complicated

Life story: before Mor'du with banished to the Isle of the Lost for his crimes he had a daughter that he named mindred however when he was sent to the Isle of the Lost he was turned back into a bear and send himself away from civilization his daughter still stuck by his side but over time his Human Side started to fade away and the bear within him started to act more aggressive, to suddenly one day Mor'du had become feral and started going crazy having to battle his human side with his bare side incidentally also attacking his daughter, who Mor'du in his bare side tried to kill and eat but still try to restrain himself with his human side, his daughter Madrid was scared not knowing what to do, but Mor'du himself knew as his Human Side passed his daughter sharp knife, at first mindred thought this was for defense, but her father speaking from his Human Side told her that she had to kill him, mintred was so horrified by this request, but her father kept on telling her she had to do it or she would be killed by him, but as he said those last words his Human Side started to fade away of his verified started to come out and looking at midrand began to attack, but was stabbed in the chest by the knife by mindred, and was ended right on the spot, men dread felt so guilty and horrified by what she had done but she started to break down crying, but her father's spirit came out of the bear and spoke "don't worry my little Lassie, I will still always be here with you, I will still always love you" and as he said this last words his Spirit disappeared into the forest, mindred spent many days crying and feeling guilty feeling like it was her fault for her father's death, but from that guilt came anger in that anger turned into first for Revenge Revenge against Merida cuz the mingred's eyes none of this would have happened if it wasn't for the redhead Queen of Scots, so many years later and nobody has heard nor seen anything about the daughter of Mor'du, some believe she is dead others believe she escaped the aisle, but no she still lives in the dark woods isolated from all humans, but Legend has it, at The Darkest Hour in the darkest night if you go into the woods, you might see a black bear from a distance, but if you squint your eyes hard enough, you might see a little girl wearing a bare skin cape leaving a trail of wisps behind her who follow her every command

Mindred is the mysterious and scary daughter of Mor'du. 

She has long, thick, jet-black hair that often falls in her face, framing her striking features. Her eyes are a unusually bright, glowing gold, reflecting a mixture of pain and burning rage. Lean and wiry, with a deceptive strength honed through years of survival in the wilderness. She almost always wears a black leather jacket with bear fur lining the hood and black rhinestones on the sleeves. She favors black leather and fur clothing, often paired with combat boots and brown belts. This attire serves as a reminder of her father and a shield against the world.

**Personality Traits:**

Mindred is perpetually burdened by the guilt of her father's death, believing it was her fault. This internal struggle fuels her anger and thirst for revenge. Years of isolation have made Mindred withdrawn and distrustful of others. She prefers the company of animals to humans. She's resourceful and capable, having learned to survive in the harsh wilderness. The need for vengeance against Merida consumes her, becoming an obsession that fuels her every move. Despite her pain, she fiercely protects the memory of her father, even if it means clinging to the idealized version of him before the curse.

**Background:**

Mindred was the cherished daughter of the powerful bear Mor'du before his banishment to the Isle of the Lost. She witnessed her father's transformation firsthand, experiencing the gradual descent into madness and the horrifying aggression that led to his death. She was forced, at a young age, to kill her own father to protect herself. This act of self-preservation solidified her guilt and became the root of her current anger. Mindred retreats into the dark woods, isolating herself from the world and haunted by the memories of her father's transformation and her own act. Mindred believes Merida is ultimately responsible for her father's fate and the subsequent events that led to his death. This belief fuels her desire for revenge, shaping her into a vengeful and dangerous figure.

**Other Relevant Information:**

She has learned to survive in the wilderness, hunting and foraging for food. She possesses a deep understanding of the forest and its creatures, forming a connection with animals that she can't achieve with humans.

Despite her isolation, rumors of a 'Daughter of the Bear' persist in the whispers of the Isle. Some believe she is dead, others think she escaped, but few know the truth of her existence and her burning desire for revenge.

Mindred remains a shadow figure, lurking in the dark woods, waiting for the opportunity to strike back at those she blames for her father's demise. Her presence is a constant reminder of the dark secret lurking in the shadows of the Isle.

Mindred's story is a tragic tale of loss, guilt, and the path to vengeance. She is a complex character, driven by her past and haunted by her actions. Her story invites exploration of themes of loss, redemption, and the consequences of violence.