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wondrsblog · 5 years ago

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flower petal

credit for the gif goes to whoever made it and posted it first 🖤

yandere! jeon jungkook x reader oneshot

reincarnation au

you were once the queen married to the most well-known king of his dynasty, Jeon Jungkook. He failed to rule his kingdom properly, however, and took to prioritizing you rather than his kingdom. As a means of escape, you helped the people sneak into the palace and overthrow the young king.

centuries later, where you may have forgotten your place by his side, Jungkook will be all too sure to remind you where you stand.

note: (M/N) is for your middle name, and not your mother’s name just to avoid any confusion :) happy reading!

warnings: yandere themes, physical altercations

A.D. 1200s-1400s, North Drokest

“A king…does that mean I can be yours?”

He balked in confusion at the dark tone in your voice.

You weren’t meant to sound like this. Your voice was the honey in his tea to soothe his aching throat, the flower petals pressed between his pages in which he left a bit of his soul.

His queen would never speak to him with such a cruel, demeaning tone.

“Answer me.” Your voice got steadily louder. “You call yourself ‘king.’ You claim you rule over this sad, desperate realm but in reality, you divide. You cause turmoil. Your people aren’t happy. They starve, and they beg you for your mercy and you have none to give.”

The throne room was vast but straightforward. High walls and ceilings held up by ornate columns, decorated in every inch with the colors of the household. Red and gold banners decorated the walls, even the carpet leading to the red, plush seats of the golden throne was red with yellow lining. The tall, wooden doors of the palace stood behind you as threatening as the presence of the man before you.

The space was empty, except for you and the king, as all the advisors and knights had been released from duty. You assumed they were happily spending their freedom buried in spirits, women, men, or something of the sort.

You stood before the king, the red and gold trim of his robes mockingly prominent.

“A king would not sit back in amusement as his land festers away with an illness, a virus that is the king himself. You poison your land, this land. You have absolutely no right to call yourself king. To me, you are nothing more than a child playing dress-up.”

He sucked in a breath, gazing at you curiously. This was the first time he was making this sort of expression to you and for some crazed reason, you thought your words were finally reaching the mind of the deranged man before you.

“As for me? I am anything but yours. My body is dust, my breath air. Everything that was given to me I intend to give back to this world. You lay no claim over me, just as you lay no claim over this earth.”

“A king is only as powerful as his people intend him to be. In accordance with your current state, the people have deemed you unworthy.”

Your words were accentuated with the crashing of the palace doors. Citizens young and old marched into the throne room, pitchforks and torches lit, clamoring for the death of the king.

His eyes never left yours as the crowds grew behind you. “So you have betrayed me, my love.”

“You lied to me. You promised that once you took the throne, you would change everything your brother and father stood for. The minute you placed yourself on their seat, you followed in their footsteps.” You had to scream over the chants now.

The crowds hushed as the village leaders climbed the steps to the throne, pausing beside you.

“This is not me enacting punishment against you, for it is not my place, but the responsibility of the people to remove a leader they deem unfit.” You said.

“This is how we end?” He asked, remaining calm. If anything, the sadness in his tone made you clench your fists tighter.

“We ended a long time ago,” you said.

Just before you stepped to the side and let the people take him away, you bowed to His Majesty one last time.

“Your flower petals lost color a long time ago,” You choked out, stumbling backward and rushing out the throne room.

Your voice was torn, he noticed. You had tears in your eyes.

That was his darling.

Breaking out of the cold, hard shell that was the woman before. You were there.

“(M/N)!” He called, watching your form retreat into the darkness. The leaders restrained him, but he fought tooth and nail to catch a glimpse of your form once more. “Petal!”

You froze, but only for a moment. You then continued on with a quickened pace, holding back sobs.

And all throughout the kingdom, up until the king’s execution, the only words that passed through his lips were your name.

In small, breathless whispers and desperate, ravaged screams.

He called for you, but you never came.

———————————————————————————

A.D. 2019, a metropolitan city

“I don’t know why I took this course,” you muttered to your friend, sticking your phone inside your bag as you stood in line at the Treshiuan Art Museum.

The building was lined with obsidian rock, glistening in the morning sun. The steps were dark and slippery, and the glass walls that adorned the first floor reflected harshly against the material. Inside, the cool blasts of air from the ceiling didn’t make the space any more welcoming. You untied your sweater from around your waist and zipped it up.

“You didn’t want to be stuck with a science course for the optional summer colloquium,” Taehyung stated, carelessly flicking through a museum pamphlet. “You said, and I quote, ‘Memorizing old people, dates, their art, and its meaning would forever be easier than learning oxidation-reduction.’’

“But was I wrong?” you grinned at him as he rolled his eyes. Taehyung felt that you had a lack of appreciation for “the arts”. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate them; you just weren’t as interested as he was. You would never discredit the beauty (or lack thereof) and meaning artists placed into their pieces.

“Tell her she’s wrong, Jungkook.” The upperclassman pouted at your classmate, whose eyes were glued to the game on his cellphone.

“You’re both wrong for trying to interrupt me right now,” he muttered furiously slamming his fingers on his screen.

“Joumou University students, over here!” The art history teacher called your group out of the line, standing next to a tall, brown-skinned woman with dark eyes. She smiled ominously, eyeing your trio with something akin to amusement in her eyes.

“Good morning everyone,” her slightly accented voice rang through the students, causing even Jungkook to look up from his handheld game.

“My name is Ilyana and I will be your tour guide this morning. I have been told by your teacher that most of you know little to nothing about thirteenth to fifteenth century dynasty art. I am excited to tell you everything I can. Before we embark upon our journey to the past, are there any questions?”

“I like her,” Taehyung whispered in your ear.

“Same. Anything like ‘embark upon our journey’ would sound lame from anyone else, but she makes it elegant and exciting.” You whispered back.

Jungkook snorted and tucked his phone into his pocket.

“No? Then let’s begin. Our tour will cover pieces from the Drokest region.”

Ilyana led your group to the elevators spouting information about the formation of royal lines in Drokest, where you somehow managed to fit in with another group. Your stop was first, and as you stepped off the elevator, your jaw dropped in awe.

The room was covered wall to wall with blue, purple, and silver. Tapestries, silks, and paintings, all had the same colors with glittering figures and jewels.

“In this land, every dynasty had designated colors. The first family to rule, the Layvns, were crowned with shades of royal blue and purple underneath a full moon, depicted by the silver embroidery.”

You walked around with Taehyung and Jungkook, admiring the care and attentiveness put into the tapestries.

“They must have loved this family,” you noted.

“The royal line of the Drokest region, albeit short, was mostly highly favored,” Ilyana said as she moved into the next hall.

“Mostly?” Taehyung asked.

“That’s a story for later.” Ilyana smiled.

You giggled and glanced over at Jungkook. He had his hood fully over his head, walking past all of the artwork without so much as sparing a look.

Like this, you passed rooms and rooms of bright, blooming colors. Pink and ivory for the second family, black and green for the third, and brown and ginger for the fourth.

As you passed through each room, the amount of artwork lessened. The number of tapestries decreased, the silk wardrobes became sparse, and the only consistent painting was that of the king and queen, possibly with their royal family.

You were with Taehyung, who was commenting on the horrible color choice the fourth family made when you noticed Jungkook sitting on a bench in the middle of the room. He had been downcast since before your tour of the exhibit started.

You left your energetic, argumentative friend and sat next to Jungkook. “You know, for the actual art major, you seem less interested in these pieces than me. Is everything okay?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I’m fine…the pieces are nice and everything. I just feel like…”

“Feel like what?” You gently pressed for him to go on.

“…I feel like I shouldn’t be here.” He finished. “Like someone hurt me and I don’t want to feel that pain ever again.”

Usually, you would push the feelings off with a joke, claiming Jungkook was getting in his feels because of the art and asking him if he wanted to play his hurt girl music. But the pain in his face told you a truer picture.

“Well, we’re almost done. After this next family, we can leave the museum and head back to the hotel. Or we can go to the restaurant you were excited to check out!” You said, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s only another half an hour. You’ve got this, and I’ve got you.”

Jungkook smiled weakly at you and you both stood as Ilyana called for the group to move on.

When your group entered the fifth room, it was a surprise for you to see only one painting. The room was bare of any tapestries or silks, and all of the lights were off, except for a single, dim light clearing the piece.

“Here, we have the fifth and final royal family of the Drokest region. We call them a family, but they were really just a royal couple. A young royal couple.”

“King Jeongguk and his Queen, (M/N). The two have quite a fantastic love story, full of tragedy, love, and disloyalty.” Ilyana smiled as if she had been present for the development of their story herself. “Gather for such a story, if you please.”

“King Jeongguk grew up in the palace a sheltered, careful boy. He did not have the same bloodthirsty, righteous drive his father and older brother carried. His closest companions were the walls of his bedroom; not even the chambermaids would speak to him.

“Jeongguk’s mother passed away at his birth, and he had never known the kindness of a woman’s touch. Legends say it was why he fell so hard, so fast for his future queen.”

“(M/N) was a little girl, the daughter of a flower peddler. She would stand in the streets of the capital city with her parents and older sister, charming people into buying a flower or two from her.”

“Jeongguk’s chambermaids would often purchase a bouquet of these flowers and place them in his room and the hallways of the palace. He adored their smell and look, pressed the petals between the pages of his book to save them, and talked to them in his extreme loneliness.”

“One day, the youngest prince escaped from the palace. He fled to the streets of the capital city, away from the brown and ginger flags of his father and pledged to live a simple life hidden amongst the commoners. During this short escape, he managed to meet the young girl as she and her family were selling his favorite flowers.”

Jungkook choked back a groan as he felt a sudden migraine hit. He stumbled his way to a bench and held his head in his hand as he tried not to draw too much attention to himself.

Images flashed before his eyes, with words and names that didn’t name sense. The clearest image was that of a young girl, with (h/c), (h/l) hair and the most beautiful (e/c) eyes. Her (s/c) hand extended a flower to him.

“Would you like to purchase a flower today?”

She grinned up at him, a few years younger and a few heads shorter. “I think it would look ever so lovely on your wrist or finger.”

He stood in awe until he heard the pounding feet of the palace guards.

“The palace guard found him, however, and dragged him back to the palace where he endured years of torment at the hand of his father and brother.” Ilyana continued.

Jungkook sat shaking.

How was he able to see the story in his mind?

“With every beating, the prince lost more and more of his humanity. The very viciousness that the king tried to instill in his own son was inflicted upon him and the crown prince. He slaughtered them and hung their bodies from trees in the mountains, letting the birds pick at their flesh. When nothing but bones were left, he had the soldiers throw their skeletons in the river.”

“Damn.” Taehyung whistled. You shivered, the feeling crawling down your spine.

“And once this cold-hearted prince became king, he had only one woman on his mind for him to marry. The same, precious little girl who offered to place a flower around his finger.”

“The king had her brought to the palace, where he essentially threatened her into marriage. At first, their relationship was tense but with time, the flower peddler’s daughter saw what was once in her young, sensitive prince. She brought out the best in him, hoping his kindness towards her could reflect more upon his actions in the kingdom.” Ever so often, Ilyana would pause and look you in the eye as she spoke about the queen. Her eyes carried a heaviness, a burden of emotions that you felt had no right to be turned against you.

“Unfortunately, however, it did the opposite and his reign got harsher, and the control he placed over his wife was suffocating. The citizens were taxed harshly, and corruption in the palace ran rampant. Jeongguk cared more for his wife than he did for being king. He was extremely possessive of her and forbid the chambermaids and knights from speaking to her. The queen eventually tired of this treatment and worked with the townspeople to overthrow the king. She disappeared in the night, and he was executed with her name on his lips. Thus, this was the last of the Drokest dynasty.” Your tour guide finished.

The room was hushed with the power of the story. Jungkook grit his teeth as more images flashed by in his mind.

The cracking of a whip against the air, the sting on his back and the smell of blood. His voice was hoarse from screaming.

The feeling of blood on his hands as he rid himself of his tormentors.

The joy he felt when he slipped a golden band onto his queen’s fingers.

The despair and anger that consumed him when she turned against him.

You had your eyes glued to the painting. Your chest ached painfully at the images of those two, young people. In every other portrait, the royal family is side by side staring cold and unforgivingly into the onlooker’s eyes. But in this portrait, as the queen grasps the king’s hands, she smiles gently. Her eyes are crinkled a bit, and the king beams as he turns his eyes on her.

How long must he have held his head in that position?

Since the beginning, I only ever had eyes for you. You are my saving grace, flower petal.

You turned, expecting to see someone next to you, but there was just empty space.

“Who said that?” you muttered.

Your eyes scanned the room for Jungkook, worried about how he was feeling after hearing the story. Perhaps it had hit him as hard as it hit you. Or perhaps it had made his uneasiness worse.

The young man stood in front of the painting, as close as the red rope allowed him. He scrutinized every aspect of the work.

Why did it feel so familiar?

He felt a hand on his shoulder and jolted. “Woah, are you okay?” You chuckled.

His eyes refused to land anywhere near you and his voice was currently not working, so he settled for a nod.

“The story must have gotten to you too. I was just thinking about how much love he had for her to break his neck staying in one position for the painting…” You looked at him searching for a laugh, or even a smile, but to your surprise, Jungkook had tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Jungkook?” You gasped out and reached to wipe them away.

He smacked your hand away harshly, his hood falling down to cover his eyes. Without another word, he stormed out of the gallery.

You were about to go running after him when Ilyana stepped in your path. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“What? Oh…yes.” You said. “In another life, I’m sure they would have made a great pair.”

Ilyana laughed gracefully. “I admire the way you think. Would you like to hear a little known fact?”

“Sure,” you said trying to hide your frustration as you watched your friend get farther and farther away. “Why not?”

“Rumour has it, King Jeongguk had the sweetest nickname for his queen.” Ilyana mused. “He called her flower petal.”

Your blood froze.

——————————————————————————

The rest of the summer was extremely hard. Ever since the travel colloquium, Jungkook had been ignoring you. Two weeks into the school year his behavior hadn’t changed. He would be with Taehyung, and once you walked up to the two he found a way to step out of the conversation.

There was a day when he stopped giving excuses, and it was the same day you stopped accepting them.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Taehyung asked as you were in his dorm room one night. The two of you were eating pizza and playing video games, as usual, relaxing from a busy, stressful week of adulting. He sat relaxing in his Gucci shirt and sweatpants. “Why are you and Jungkook so tense? Are you fighting or something? Did you two have sex over the summer and then things got really awkward, so you stopped talking?”

You spluttered, choking on a slice of pizza. “Tae, what? No! Absolutely not! I don’t know what went wrong–we were looking at that painting from the Drokest dynasty and he flipped out on me and hasn’t spoken to me since. I don’t know what I did wrong…”

“You shouldn’t let him treat you that way, especially if you don’t deserve it,” Taehyung advised. “Why don’t you confront him about it?”

“You know I’m not a very confrontational person. I don’t like getting into other people’s business. Then again, Jungkook isn’t just ‘other people’. So if he’s going through something, I should at least try to meet him halfway.” Your argument changed direction in a matter of seconds as you reconsidered your thoughts.

“Most definitely!” Taehyung cheered you on. “It isn’t too late, why don’t you go over to his apartment now?”

You hesitated but grabbed your bag. “Alright. I guess I’m off, then.”

Taehyung walked you to the door, hugging you goodbye.

On the way to Jungkook’s, you thought over everything you were going to say. Things ended so awkwardly back at the museum, you hadn’t the slightest idea what to do.

You passed by a familiar green and white sign, looking at the multiple flower bouquets and stands.

This would either go horribly wrong or horribly right, but it was going to happen nonetheless.

———————————————————————–

You stood, shaking for some reason, in front of Jungkook’s door. He resided in a quieter part of the university town, a considerable distance from campus.

When terms with you two were better, he would join you and Taehyung’s “legendary” sleepovers and rarely had to worry about the distance. Lately, according to Taehyung, he’d been shutting himself inside his house.

Jungkook was a good student–he’d show up to class, never handed assignments in late, and was virtually passing every subject. But for the past couple of days, his teachers hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him.

You gulped.

“Come now, (Y/N). You’re not walking into certain death here.” You spoke under your breath. “This is a friend of yours who is shutting himself away from you, and you care about him. This is serious.”

With that self-encouragement, you rang the doorbell twice and stuck the flowers behind your back.

It was quiet inside for a moment, but you soon heard floorboards creaking. The chain slid into place before the door slightly opened.

As he peered out the crack, he saw you standing there with a smile on your face. His eyes widened.

“Hey, Jungkook.” You rocked back and forth on your heels. “I know it’s been a while but…I’ve been worried about you since our museum trip…I’m sorry for anything I did to offend you back then and I would sincerely like to talk to you about anything you’re worried about.”

He eyed you for a few moments. Without another word, he closed the door and removed the chain.

“Come in.” He said quietly.

You smiled, entering with your front to his so that he could not see your gift.

Jungkook was never this demure before, you noticed.

The apartment was dark. All of the lights were off, save a single lamplight illuminating his desk. It looked like the apartment of a recluse.

“So you have willingly returned to me, my love?” Jungkook murmured.

“What?” You asked, turning your head to face him.

“What?” He replied, locking the door behind him. “I didn’t say anything.”

You laughed weakly, eyeing the lock he just turned. “Sure, okay. But on a more serious note…”

Rather than the usual doodles and pieces of artwork Jungkook would have strewn around his apartment, there were clippings of articles about the fifth king and queen of the Drokest dynasty pinned to the walls, curtains, and windows. From art reviews to historical findings, any piece of information he could find was stapped to a chalkboard near the desk like a considerable life map.

“Were you that fascinated with the king and queen?” You asked him. “I still find the ending unsettling. I kind of wish it had ended another way, you know?”

This was obviously dangerous territory, for the last time you tried to talk to him about them, he’d burst into tears.

Yet when you looked at Jungkook, his eyes were alight with a hope that had not been present before.

“Yes!” He said, beaming. “That’s why I’ve been trying to find out so much about them…I want to recreate ou-their story so that they can get the best ending possible.”

“That’s cute.” You chuckled. “I wish you all the success in making that happen.”

“What did you bring me?” He questioned. “I’m ever so curious.”

You blushed, ignoring his antiquated speech. “Funnily enough, I was coming from Taehyung’s dorm-”

You didn’t notice the way his face darkened.

“-and on my way here, I passed by a flower shop and saw these and, well,” You handed him the bouquet. “Aren’t they beautiful? I think they’d look adorable on someone’s wrist or-”

“Wrapped around someone’s finger, yes.” Jungkook took the flowers so carefully, treating them like precious glass.

“Yes, how did you know?” You wondered.

“It was just a feeling…” Jungkook placed the flowers on his table and started preparing a vase for them. “…you know, (Y/N), when we were at the museum listening to the story, you didn’t feel anything strange?”

“Strange? No, I-actually, there was something a little weird. I thought you or Taehyung had said it to me, but after the story ended I heard someone calling me their ‘saving grace.’ But there was no one next to me the whole time.”

Since the beginning, I only ever had eyes for you.

Your head began to pound harshly. You grimaced and sat on a chair by his living room table.

Your friend placed the vase in the center of the table, setting the flowers in the water. “So you don’t remember anything other than that?”

Jungkook’s voice was oddly menacing. He trembled in the darkness of his apartment.

“No, should I?” You said.

Why is he shaking?

“You remember nothing of our past.” Jungkook lifted his head and those deep, dark, brown eyes were teeming with rage. “You remember nothing of your betrayal, yet your actions remain the same.”

“Jungkook, what are you talking about? I never betrayed you!” Your headache wasn’t getting any better and the situation had clearly worsened.

“I’ve been using my time to find out any and all information about us,” He continued. “My death was broadcasted all over the kingdom, with the next ruler being the son of one of the village elders. You, however, you disappeared without a trace.”

Your head was spinning too fast for you to understand. “Your death? The kingdom? …Jungkook. Do you honestly think you’re the fifth king of Drokest?”

“I don’t think! I know I am!” He hissed at you. “I didn’t ask to remember, but now that I have do you expect it, all of it, to be water under the bridge?”

“Is that why you’ve been so angry at me?” You stood now furious, head pain be damned. “You think I’m the queen from the painting? You think I want you dead?”

“Like I said, your own actions betray you.” He gestured towards the flowers you brought him. “I can clearly see that history is about to repeat itself.”

“Those people are dead, Jungkook!” You finally burst. You had had enough of his emotional tantrum and gaslighting. “They lived, they loved, they’re gone! We are us! Here! In 2019!”

Jungkook grabbed you by the shoulders and slammed you so hard against the wall you saw stars. But they weren’t the normal stars erupting behind your eyelids.

The sky was lit with constellation upon constellation. A cool, night breeze blew your (h/c) hair from your face. You reached up to brush it back for the hundredth time when another hand grabbed yours.

“For you, my love.” A young man with dark hair and dark eyes appeared next to you, holding out a beautiful hairpin. The flower on it was a dazzling red, and the beads that hung from it shimmered of gold and pink.

You accepted the gift with a bow and trembling hands. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

When you tried to fix the ornament in place, your hands were shaking so bad it would not stay still. He gracefully took it and in one swoop, locked your hair behind your ear.

“I know that you are afraid of me,” he claimed as you stiffened. “I won’t pretend that I have not done some things others may consider atrocious…”

“Yet you have nothing to fear from me, darling. Should you give yourself to me, I promise you will see me anew.” He wrapped his arms around you so easily, as if they had always been there. “As a changed man, I will do better for you.”

You relaxed some. “Your Majesty-”

“Jeongguk.” He interrupted. “Please, call me by my name.”

You blushed and whispered his birth name. “I am afraid of you. I’m not crafty enough to lie in your presence. But there is something I have wanted to ask you since the wedding.”

“Speak.” Jeongguk rubbed his head into your shoulder. “Anything you ask of, I will comply with.”

You gently pushed him off of you so that you could look him in the eyes and it would not be taken as rejection. “Why me? My family and I have done nothing but vend flowers for years. I have no special meaning to this kingdom, I truly can not comprehend how I can be its queen.”

The king was still for some moments. “Your flowers were my only friends in this palace.” He muttered at last. “In this sad, cold place where I was confined to my room, I pressed the petals between the pages of my books simply to feel their smoothness and warmth later on.”

His arms, strong and constricting, still rested around you. They tightened as he went on, holding you to the point where you felt that you could not breathe.

“When my father and brother chose to discipline me into becoming like them every day, it was the love for your flowers that they tried to beat out of me. My love for you.” He smirked. “Clearly, it didn’t work.”

You shivered and resisted the temptation to look to the mountains, where the bodies of the previous king and crown prince were still hanging, swaying in the wind.

“I chose you because you are the reason I stay human. Since the beginning, I only ever had eyes for you. That precious day when we met on the market streets, and you offered to tie a flower around my finger. You are my saving grace, flower petal.”

With a harsh gasp, you were brought out of the memory. Your hands grasped Jungkook’s arms like a vice and your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath.

The vision..the voice…they were real.

Jungkook patiently waited for you to calm down, tsking as you slid to the floor still in his arms.

“That’s just like you, petal. Blaming me for not being able to recognize your wrongdoing.”

“So I was the…” you said. “And you were…we really…why?”

“I couldn’t tell you why, (Y/N). I hardly know why myself.” Jungkook said. “I laid here in torment since the summer, trying to find a way to prove to myself that it wasn’t real.”

“The visions?” You asked.

“Your betrayal.” He gritted out. “The way you sold me out to the villagers like some common criminal. I screamed until my throat bled, begging for you to come back and you never did.”

Your eyes widened with awakened fear. “I…it was…”

“Do you still stand by that decision?” Jungkook asked as he kneeled next to you on the ground.

“I…had to…” You whispered. Even after all these years, your feelings hadn’t changed. He was destroying the country, you, and himself. “Everything you touched was poison.”

Jungkook let out a sickly, dark laugh. He wrapped his hands around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter, bringing his lips to your ear.

“I suppose that alternate ending you were waiting for has arrived, then, hasn’t it?”

You feebly kicked at the spot between his legs but he jerked back without removing his hands. “Don’t worry, petal. I’ll make sure we go back to being happy and in love. With that, we will have the perfect ending. We can start the sixth line that never got to be.” His voice was dreamy and his eyes were light, despite the fact that he was applying enough strength to your neck to choke you out.

“N..o…” you barely managed to get the word out. It didn’t matter how much you resisted. Jungkook had centuries worth of anger backing him up.

“Don’t make me break you, petal,” he brushed tears from your eyes and shushed you like a child. “Flowers can’t grow to be as beautiful as they can be if the stems aren’t intact.”

I never should have come, you thought to yourself.

“Yes, you never should have betrayed me. But it’s alright, (Y/N). As you said, those people are dead and gone. We will start anew in this century and this life…and perhaps even the one after that.” He smiled, looking down at your unconscious figure and stroking your hair.

“I don’t care how many lives I have to live if it means I can finally be with you, petal.”

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