#The Evil Within Chapter 1 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoonia · 3 days

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Ever A Never After: Act 1

⟶ Chapter Summary | It feels like a dream come true. Prince Charming comes to the rescue, and then he is suddenly proclaiming his love to you. The promise of your happily ever after is suddenly within arm’s reach. Yet sinister ploys are at play, coming in the way of your happy ending just when you are merely a step away from reaching it

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Rom-com ⟶ Word count | 19,688 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | PG-13, +18 / M for future chapters; slow burn, black magic, curses, fantasy beasts/monsters, fantasy violence, fantasy weapons, mentions of (possible) characters death, blood, self inflicted injury (pretty harmless, no weapons are involved in this part), sudden wedding proposals, coercion, hypnotism, betrayal. ⟶ Special thanks to my beta readers, @downbad4yoongi, @theodea

⟶ Story Masterlist: Ever A Never After | next chapter ⇢

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⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After

Once upon a time, in a magical kingdom known as Andalasia…

A place where each story ends with happily ever afters and a dream can become reality with one simple wish. Ruled by the powerful Sorceress Queen Rosalyn, who reigns the kingdom with her iron fist, steel heart, and enchanting spells, the kingdom prospers with riches and an abundance of good fortune.

Magic exists in this place as the main core that holds the entire kingdom together.

It protects the people of the kingdom from the evil forces lying in wait within the shadows. Magic also brings light and joy to the people of the kingdom, opulence and prosperity to the land, allowing Andalasia to bloom magnificently for the past century among other magical kingdoms within the realm.

With magic, the people of the kingdom—even those who aren’t mages or sorcerers—are able to have a strong connection with the surrounding nature. The blessings of magic spreads through the land, providing crops and provisions for the people throughout the year. It also spreads through the waters flowing from the mountains and all the way to the open sea, enriching the land, the towns and the vast farmlands within the kingdom’s territories.

The blessings of magic also allows the humans and the creatures of the wild—the animals and fairies—to speak in the same language. Allowing all part of the kingdom to live in harmony and peace under the same sky.

But just like two sides of a coin, magic has another face that the people despises the most; dark magic, with its evil spells and curses, which often draws in malicious forces and lures the beasts and monsters that would pose a threat to the kingdom.

For years, the mighty Sorceress, Queen Rosalyn, has managed to protect the people by using her powers. Yet dark magic has always been powerful. Enough to continue existing in the darkest places of the kingdom, hiding in the shadows, waiting in the crevices of the land for anyone who would be strong enough to wield and harness it.

There is only one kind of magic in Andalasia that is strong enough to defeat these dark spells.

Stronger than the magic that the Queen possesses and casts to rule the kingdom and its people. The most powerful magic that everyone holds out their hopes, dreams, and wishes for. The one that everyone most desperately seeks, no matter what risk they would take to find it. Even the animals and wild creatures of the woods would sing praises about it between the breezing wind, while people within the kingdom would write fables to commemorate its existence.

It is the magic mostly known as the true love’s kiss.

Ever since you were just a little girl, you have heard many stories about it. From the tales that had been written in the books and scribes about the magical moments that are shared by those who have embraced their happily ever afters with their true love’s kiss.

Once you become old enough to understand all there is to know about the magic made possible with true love’s kiss, you begin to feel a deep sense of yearning growing within you. A desire so profound to find your own happily ever after, and to find someone that you could share your true love’s kiss with. This desire has filled your thoughts and dreams, always keeping you wishing and praying for the opportunity to look out to the world so you can find it for yourself.

And last night, after a seemingly long wait, fate itself has decided to answer your prayers by sending you a wonderful dream. A dream filled with signs telling you that your wish may soon come true.

What you saw in your dream was everything that you had always pictured to happen. It got you feeling elated, hopeful, and it had woken you up with the strong desire to immortalise it while you had the chance to.

The sun was barely up when you first opened your eyes, yet there was no way you could remain idle, no matter how comfortable it would have been to stay in bed. Your energy was already high, pushing you to start working on bringing the key piece of your dream into reality while it is still fresh in your memories.

An hour or so has passed since, and you have been moving around your quaint bedroom, bringing with you scraps of fabrics, ribbons, and various other raw materials that you managed to gather from the garden before the sky grew bright. The rapid thrum of your heartbeat becomes the music you hum to while you carefully combine the materials, pinning each piece onto the wooden mannequin standing in the center of your bedroom—the same mannequin you would normally use to create your pretty dresses.

Except instead of displaying a dress, the wooden mannequin has been set up to display your newest creation. These beautiful scraps of fabric that you have collected and formed together aren’t meant to be any piece of clothing that you might be wearing later once the season changes, but to bring the object of your dream—the object of your deepest desire—to come alive.

As your creation is slowly forming into its final shape right before your eyes, you feel a rush of enthusiasm and joy brewing inside your chest. A feeling that you share with your busy little helpers that have been moving in tune with you from every corner of the room.

Their presence has become another reason why you are so full of energy this morning. They are the true blessing that had come from the forest, lured by the sound of your voice as you were singing the wistful tune of your aspiration the moment you woke up from your deep slumber.

Each animal now present in the room are either having fun watching and cheering for you, or helping you with all the different tasks that they can handle. You enjoy watching your small friends following your instructions obediently while singing along with the cheerful tune you are humming while you continue to work.

The wild hummingbirds that are usually shy and diffident are now fluttering around the mannequin, securing the ribbons that you have specifically chosen for your project. The fluffy chinchillas keep running back and forth to bring in more scraps and little accessories from your drawers to add to your creation.

Once in a while, some more of your fluffy little fellows slip into your room. Always carrying with them the various items that they could find from the forest and the small patch of garden right outside of your cabin in case they would be useful.

Just like the pair of wild sparrows that are flying in through your window right this moment. The sound of their cheerful chirping fills the room, drawing your attention to their arrival. “Here are some more leaves and fresh straws that you can use for the hair, sweet Blossom.”

A smile is lifted on your face as they drop some autumn leaves and fresh-smelling straws from their beaks and talons into your open palms. “Why, thank you, sweethearts,” you gratefully say to them, “These should make the hair look all fluffy and soft.”

Soft flutters rise in your chest as you lean to give each sparrow a light peck on top of their heads. A gesture that you give not only because you are feeling grateful for their help, but also for the way they are calling you with your childhood nickname in such an endearing way.

Blossom.

Your mother had been the one who gave you the special name when you were born. It was said that the flowers seemed to blossom more beautifully the moment you came into this realm, and the nickname has stuck on you ever since. The name that is interchangeable with your birth name, and one that anyone who is close to you would often choose to call you with.

You begin humming to yourself again as you drift back to your mannequin, pinning the leaves into the crown of the mannequin’s head. You have yet to get everything done when you hear soft voices calling for you excitedly from below.

“How about these bronze quartz for the eyes?” A pair of white wild bunnies call out to you as they hop around your ankles. Clapping your hands with joy, you bend down to gracefully accept their gifts.

“Oh, yes!” you squeal as you lift the pair of bronze quartzes to your eyes, loving how they glow under the bright morning sunlight.

“How lovely, and they look perfectly similar to the eyes looking back at me in my dreams,” you delightfully exclaim to them as you attach the dark-coloured crystals to the mannequin’s face, giving it a pair of eyes that are glinting beautifully as if they are coming alive. “Those eyes looked as dark as the night sky but were glowing like twilight when I looked deeply into them in my dream, and these pretty quartz are reminding me of them.”

Ada, the gentle deer, prances over, bumping her head against your calves to draw your attention to her. “Then how about these are some goose feathers I found at the lake this morning? Would these help too?” she gently offers as she drops the delicate feathers by your feet.

With an astonished gasp, you bend down to your knees to retrieve it. You take a moment to marvel at them as a flutter of delirious giggle rises in your throat. “What beautiful feathers, perfect for a prince. I wonder where I should put this,” you ponder to yourself, tapping your chin as you admire the feathers’ colouring—its golden-brown gradient shade that looks luxurious, like pieces of expensive materials that you can only see adorning the fancy dresses or suits that the nobles wear to the Queen’s royal ball.

With a soft bubbling laughter, you twirl on your feet before pinning the feathers on its upper torso, and you can almost see it shimmer as the sunlight falls on them.

“Oh, how perfect!” you marvel at the mannequin standing right before you with a sigh. Stepping back from it, you take in the result of your hard work, making sure that you have followed every little detail that has been engraved in your memory.

“Just what exactly are you making so early in the morning? Keeping everyone busy before you even had your breakfast,” Poppy, the sassy squirrel who is also your most loyal companion, huffs curiously as she climbs over your shoulder, wanting to have a clear look at what you are creating.

“Oh, Poppy. My dear sweet Poppy.” A dreamy sigh escapes from your lips, which only draws more confusion on your little friend’s face. “I had a dream last night.”

“A dream?”

“Oh yes, Poppy. A wonderful dream.” You cannot help but giggle as a giddy feeling fills your chest. You also feel a sense of longing, an odd sensation which has been plaguing you ever since you woke up from this magical dream.

“Tell us about the dream, Blossom,” your friends chirp and sing from all around you, “Tell us!”

With a smile, you slowly drop down to the floor cushions at the corner of your bedroom, finding comfort as you begin to share your tale, “I dreamed of a prince. A very handsome, charming, and powerful prince.”

With your eyes on the wooden mannequin, you gesture your hand at your nearly finished work, “And he looks just like this.”

The statuette figure that stands before you, shaped by the decorated and fully-dressed wooden mannequin, appears like the prince of your dream. Standing tall enough that you have to lift your chin up to look at it properly even while you were on your feet, the replica of the prince seems to come alive. You may not have been able to see his face as clearly as you would have liked, with how hazy that dream now seems to your mind. Yet as you run your gaze over your creation, you have to admit that you may have come close to getting at least something about him right.

The upper frame of the mannequin is draped with a made-up attire that looks like a three-piece suit. While it doesn’t look as refined as the suit you pictured in your mind, it still looks intricate enough to resemble the fancy suits made for nobles.

The jacket, made from a piece of wool which you once used to craft yourself a winter coat, is fitted to show the figure’s broad shoulders and trim waist. You didn’t forget to add a long tail at the back of the jacket, giving it a more sophisticated look—which you can imagine would flow prettily should the ‘prince’ walks across the room to ask you for a dance. The royal blue hue of the fabric allows the suit to stand out under the bright morning sunlight penetrating into the room. You can almost imagine it, the person wearing this jacket shining among the other people in a massive ballroom, drawing everyone’s attention just as you are unable to look away from it now.

The golden-brown goose feathers that Ada had brought you look like golden embroideries adorning the lapels of the jacket. With a subtle sheen on them, the feathers are able to catch the sunlight perfectly as you try to look at them from different angles.

Beneath the jacket, a waistcoat made of a matching fabric but in deep brown hugs the mannequin’s torso. Its snug fit creates an illusion of a broad and strong chest that would have filled its form perfectly as a powerful gentleman would. Various stones and crystals that you have pinned at the front of the waistcoat make up to replace the fancy buttons, and they all look almost like polished jewels against the dark backdrop as the sunlight falls on top of them.

A pair of trousers are set up to cover the lower part of the mannequin. Using a smooth fabric that looks almost like satin, the piece of clothing looks no different than what most royals or nobles would wear in the fancy parties that you had quite a few experiences attending to. The trousers seem to have added an illusion that looks captivating to your eyes; a silhouette of a pair of legs that are long and strong, with toned muscles hidden underneath and a sturdy foundation that would display class and elegance.

A crisp dress shirt in pristine white completes the entire ensemble. The light ruffles from the collar are peeking out from beneath the jacket, creating the illusion of the figure’s long neck. A silk tie is knotted around the throat, created from your silky scarf that has a spread of tiny blue flowers on a white background which seems like the perfect match to the dress shirt and the intricate looking jacket.

“Yes, this is all perfect. This is how he looked like in my dreams,” you muse with a contented sigh, grateful that you were able to bring the image of your prince to life only based on the memory of your lovely dream.

“But what did you see in this dream of yours, Blossom?” you hear the wild doves chittering from the windows, no doubt asking on behalf of your other animal friends who are present here, all silently swooning over your story, “What did you and the Prince do?”

“Oh,” you stutter as you remember the beautiful moments that you saw in your dream.

“It was so, so romantic. He was fighting this evil beast, a black dragon that was breathing out fire so hot it could burn down the entire magic forest—” you start by sharing the part of the dream that gave you a fright, drawing a collective sound of sharp gasps from everyone in the room as well as you talk about the fierce dragon who was fighting against your Prince from the top of a dark tower.

“—and then, once he won the battle and peace was reclaimed once more, he came to catch me as I was falling from height. We locked eyes with one another and had our moment, and that was when he chose to stay longer with me, ensuring my safety instead of returning to the castle. We talked for hours, walked through the forest, and he even took me on a ride in his glowing carriage. And when evening came, once the moonlight and the bright stars came to replace the sun, he finally asked me for a dance.”

A collective sound of dreamy sighs echo through the room, increasing the excitement you feel bubbling inside your chest. And you have yet to reach the best part of it.

“And then? What happened next, Blossom?” the fluffy and shy badger, Brew, asks you curiously from behind the curtains, where he had been hiding while watching you have fun with his friends.

With a happy giggle, you lean back against the cushions while keeping your eyes on your made-up Prince. “We danced, and danced, and danced all night, and right at the sound of the clock chiming at midnight, we shared one of the most magical moments ever”—you let out a long, deep sigh as you murmur softly—”with a true love’s kiss.”

“A true love’s kiss?” everyone gasps and sighs, sharing the elated feeling that is now surging through your chest.

“But how will you be able to have a true love’s kiss,” Poppy teases as she climbs over the right shoulder of your ‘dream prince.’ She bends and points at the empty space at the bottom of the face as she jokingly asks, “If this prince of yours doesn’t even have a pair of lips?”

Your eyes follow Poppy’s little fingers and an astonished laugh slips out of you. “Oh, dear me! We forgot the lips!” You quickly cover your mouth before the sound of your laughter reaches outside of your bedroom, realising too late that this is still early in the day. Yet your eyes remain on the mannequin’s expressionless face. “Oh, what should we place there as his lips? Does anyone have any idea?”

Almost immediately, your little friends begin to chirp and squeal and chitter with each of their own ideas.

“How about some fresh flower petals?”

“Red roses don’t bloom as much or as pretty in this time of year!”

“Berries?”

“How about red chilli peppers?”

The last response makes you laugh, joined by your delighted forest friends who seem to be enjoying their time with you, just as much as they seem to be enjoying the look on your face as you are filled with happiness and joy.

But before you can say anything to respond to their ideas, a gentle voice calls out to you from downstairs.

“________! Sweet Blossom, where are you?” the voice echoes through the small cabin, and your friends scatter to different places to take cover. Some remain, yet they choose to hide in small places, while others jump into safety right out the window. The voice continues, “I know you’re awake. I can hear you singing from all the way down here.”

“Oh, it’s Grandmother!” With a stifled laughter, you rise to your feet and rush to move. “Quick, help me hide this.”

Grabbing a blanket, you bring it to the mannequin, hoping that you would be able to cover it in case your grandmother ever decides to walk up to your bedroom. While it may not cause you any trouble should your grandmother ever finds out what you have been up to all morning, you know that she would only worry once she sees the ‘dream prince’ standing in your bedroom.

You don’t even want to try and imagine what your grandmother would say, or what kind of look that she would give you if she ever hears why you are using your working mannequin to create your own Prince Charming.

“Get your head out of the clouds, dear. We have other important things to worry about and focus on. It’s not good to be dreaming too much when you’re awake.”

That is what she would always say whenever you talk about your dreams of finding your happily ever after, or whenever you listen to your grandmother’s friends and customers about the most recent gossips and tales from the kingdom.

“Blossom, quick!” Poppy’s voice snaps you out of it, as she and the rest of your remaining forest friends begin to pull on the other side of the blanket to help you cover the mannequin.

Once it is perfectly hidden, you pull yourself together and turn away, only making one last glance at the now-covered ‘dream prince’ before making your way downstairs to see your grandmother before she starts calling for you again.

“I’m coming, Nana!”

The place that you call home is nothing more but a small wooden cabin located deep in the woods, right at the heart of the Amaranth Forest. Located quite a distance away from the Queen’s castle, your home serves as a place of solitude, away from the bright and bustling life of the kingdom.

This is where your sweet grandmother has raised you all on her own ever since you were a young child. You may have no recollection of your parents, being so young when they were gone. But everything in the cabin serves as the reminder of their existence. From the pictures that are being hanged on the walls and placed on the mantle above the fireplace, to the small trinkets that they left behind, each one holding pieces of their memories for you to remember them by.

Growing up without them, you barely felt the weight of their absence. To every void formed by the lack of their presence in your life, your grandmother fills it with her overflowing love and beautiful memories. Being under her care allows you to live with happiness and joy, as she continued to make sure that you could live your life to the fullest. She has also taught you to remain grounded, to be able to build your own life without losing your focus or getting lost in your dreams.

And there are also your friends from the forest, the wild animals that would often come to visit you whenever you are in need of company. They have kept you from feeling lonely, whether during the good days, but more so on your darkest days. The same way they are keeping you company right this moment, as you are trudging along the woods to finish the day’s errands which your grandmother had sent you out to do.

“I’m making breakfast for both of us before I will have to leave to the shop downtown,” she said once you joined her in the kitchen earlier when she called for you to come downstairs, “But I need help getting some ingredients from the gardens and the groves. I would go myself, but my knees have been bothering me. Will you be a dear and fetch them for me?”

There was no way you could have refused your grandmother’s request. Not when you saw the look on her face this morning when you first came down from your bedroom.

The dark pockets under her eyes have been more obvious as of late, so have the lines of age marring her skin. You cannot remember seeing your grandmother so tired and weary as she did today, but she has always known to hide her exhaustion well. Even if it means having to force a smile on her face just to stop you from worrying about her as she continues with her day.

Still, it doesn’t stop you from wondering if there is something for her to be wary about. The thought follows you as you are gathering all the ingredients needed—the wild mushrooms from the nearby woods and some fresh vegetables from the small patches of gardens that your grandmother has been tending to.

Perhaps your worries have been written so clearly on your face, because the moment you announced your leave after seeing your grandmother, your animal friends immediately insisted to come with you. And you are grateful for their company. Because despite having these worrying thoughts filling your mind, you still find yourself enjoying your time in the open with them around to entertain you.

It is also a blessing that the weather is nice this morning.

The sun feels warm on your skin, while the canopy of trees above your head are keeping you safe from the rising heat. Small birds are flying between the trees above you while accompanying your walk with their melodic tune. You also have Poppy joining you, as she is perched comfortably on your shoulder when she isn’t jumping around to help you plucking out fresh ingredients from the ground.

The wild bunnies and Brew the badger are also there, jumping all around you as they follow you through the woods. Even Ada is following you close, as she acts like a guide before she will be making her way to the river to continue her morning stroll.

After quite some time has passed, and almost all of the ingredients that you needed have been gathered, your friends begin to remind you of your ‘dream prince’ once again when their constant teasing continues.

“Now that we have everything that your Nana needed, shall we go around to look for the perfect lips to give your dream prince?” Poppy suggests as she places the last piece of the potatoes into your basket.

“Oh, my! I almost forgot!” You gasp, and immediately, all the delightful feeling you had earlier returns to you tenfold as you remember about your Prince Charming. “You’re right! Now that we’ve gotten everything, we should continue with our mission to find the Prince’s lips. We do have some time left before Nana has to go to open the shop for the day.”

After sharing a quick discussion between you and your friends, everyone decides to follow Ada to the nearby river where she always does her morning stroll. Arriving there, she leads you to the thick bushes where the wild berries always grow during the season. The luscious shade of crimson from the fresh berries looks perfect, just the shade that you were searching for, and it makes you feel even more enthusiastic about finishing your creation.

Seeing the look on your face, Poppy rolls her eyes and makes a tutting sound. “Oh, Blossom, do you think that your dream boy truly exists?” she wonders out loud.

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” you simply answer, feeling optimistic about it still as you carefully pluck the berries and slip them into your basket. “If he could come into my dreams, then he must be out there somewhere.”

“Where?” Poppy teasingly asks as she dramatically begins looking around, peering through the woods to find your prince.

Rolling your eyes back at her, you simply laugh at her antics. “He could be anywhere. He might be somewhere within these woods, getting lost between the thick trees while he is making his way to find me. Or he could be on the other side of the mountains, fighting off dragons and monsters to claim as his prize while proving himself worthy before winning my heart and sweeping me off of my feet.”

With a sigh, Poppy shakes her head at you. “Oh, _______. I think your grandmother was right when she said that you have your head up in the clouds. Remember to get back to the ground before you fly too high.”

You can only smile as you recall your grandmother saying the same thing; that you have always been dreaming even when you are awake, and that you always let your imagination run too far, when your mind is filled with all the wishful thinking you have about finding your happily ever after.

You can understand why she would feel so worried about you, wondering if one day you would find it hard to face reality with how much you keep dreaming about your happiness. Even though it had been your grandmother herself who made you believe in happily ever afters in the first place.

“Your parents had their happily ever after. That was how you came into this world, and why they are still together now. Wherever they may be,” you heard her speak one time while she was lost in thoughts, soon after she was done telling you all the tales about happy endings and finding true loves.

It wasn’t often for your grandmother to talk about your parents. Except for the rare occasions where she would tell their stories, about how they met and fell in love, and how their happily ever after made it possible for you to be born.

She would always wear a look of longing in her eyes whenever she talks about your parents. Although it would always be accompanied by sadness and hurt — the emotions that are constantly written so vividly in her face. It has always made you feel hesitant about bringing up your parents when you talk to her. But there is something in the way your grandmother tells what little tale she has about your parents’ love story and happily ever afters that continues to bring you hope. It makes you wish that the kind of love they had does exist, and that you may one day find it.

Sighing to yourself, you embrace the blissful feeling that you have each time you recall parts of your dream which makes your heart flutter. The more you think about the dream, the more you refuse to believe that your dream had meant nothing at all.

Andalasia is a land filled with magic, after all. A place where dreams come true. And you believe that the dream had been a sign telling you that your happily ever after is near.

“I’m not going to fly off to the clouds just to find him, Poppy. Not when he might be somewhere close by,” you simply tell your friend as you finish up your hunt for the perfect lips that you are giving your made-up Prince.

Little do you know that your words are merely moments into coming to reality.

Because just as you are finishing up your errand, when you are ready to turn back home with your basket filled to the brim with fresh assortments, a commotion begins to rise on the other side of the woods.

Oblivious to the possible danger that is coming towards you, you continue prancing between the trees, enjoying your time with your animal friends playing by your side. You start singing along to the song that they are singing about your dream prince, the true love’s kiss, and your happily ever after, unknowingly luring the incoming peril that is coming to find you as the sweet tune of your voice echoes through the deep forest.

On the other side of the woods, beyond the steep hills covered in thick clusters of trees, the sound of a deep, feral roar echoes through the vast woodland.

Gone is the peaceful morning, and the entire forest wakes up to a sudden rising turmoil.

The trees are shaking with the echoing roar while the ground is rumbling violently, sending wild animals around to scamper away to find places to hide. Some have barely made their safe escape when the dense trees are suddenly parted, and a giant troll bursts through the thickets.

The creature’s massive foot stumbles as he rushes through. Avoiding the trees and boulders that are getting in his way seems like a struggle, yet his speed has yet to falter even when he can barely stay upright in his hasty run. It isn’t so much of the obstacles that appear on his path that are making it hard for him to run across the woods, but more because of the remnants of the broken restraint still dangling around his ankles.

As the creature continues to scramble to find escape, a white horse appears to be racing not to far behind. The sound of its hoofs hitting the ground in rapid speed adds to the entire commotion. The steed pushes forward, giving its full strength as it runs between the trees to keep up with the troll, while the rider continues to shout his commands, pushing his steed to keep giving a chance.

Following behind is yet another man in a horse, barely keeping up with the first rider and the relentless creature running before them.

“Sir Noah! How did you manage to let that creature escape? He’s running even faster than before!” the first rider shouts with a firm voice.

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” the man following the first rider calls out between his heaving breath. He can barely keep his composure while his darker horse seems to be struggling to maintain its speed and trying its best not to get left behind.

“I was sure that I’ve tied the monster’s hands and feet as strong as I possibly could. I merely step aside to, ugh—” the man gets his breath knocked out of his chest as his steed leaps over a fallen tree, “To rest my old man’s back and all of a sudden, the rope on his hands snaps, and he just rose to his feet and began running.”

The man stops shouting to catch his breath while trying his hardest to control his loyal horse. Both himself and the horse that he is riding are old and withered, not as young or as strong as the Crown Prince who is riding ahead with his massive white horse. They have all been running and working on the hunt since the break of dawn, yet the horse has yet to show any signs of exhaustion. It doesn’t seem to be losing its strength, just as the Prince’s stamina has yet to falter even when he was the one to fight the creature to its submission less than an hour ago.

“It was the voice!” The man, Sir Noah, manages to scream out once he has his breath steadied. “There was a strong breeze coming while the troll was tied down, and I swear I heard a voice coming with the wind, a voice that sounded so beautiful. Like a birdsong. Perhaps the voice enchanted the troll to gain its strength!”

“Then we must find the source of that voice to stop the troll!” the Prince shouts back, still with vigour that has yet to fade.

“But, Prince—” Sir Noah tries to shout to stop him as the Prince rides ahead, speeding faster away from him. “Prince Jungkook, wait!”

To Sir Noah’s surprise and disgruntlement, the Prince seems to find joy in this entire predicament as he laughs and shouts to his horse to pick up speed right as the troll stops struggling in his run. “Go, Onyx! Don’t lose him!”

“No, Prince! Your Highness, you need to stop before you hurt yourself,” Sir Noah continues to shout, although his voice is slowly fading as he is beginning to lose his breath once more.

“No, I won’t. I can do it! I know I can!” Jungkook continues to shout back, almost like he is chanting to himself with pure confidence as he leads his horse to keep its steady pace through the thickets. “I’ve had him before so I can’t give up now.”

Sir Noah has lost track of time and distance, unaware of how far they have gone since the troll started making his escape. All he can see around him are trees, more trees, a couple of small hills to run over before the land opens up to a small meadow that fades into another part of the forest that is just as dense as where they first started this intense chase. He cannot help but blame himself for his recklessness, even more so as he watches in horror the moment the troll jumps off of a small hill to cut more distance to wherever he is heading to, with the Prince’s horse making a huge leap right after.

“No!” Sir Noah screams out, before his voice turns to a loud screech when his horse follows its younger counterpart to jump off the hill in his shadows. “Lord have mercy!”

“This is so much fun!” Prince Jungkook shouts with a boastful laugh, completely disregarding Sir Noah’s fright. The excitement that is palpable through his voice only makes Sir Noah’s stomach drop.

“No, this is not fun, Prince Jungkook!” Sir Noah yells out of frustration before groaning, “Oh dear, the Queen is going to have my head for this.”

Before he can say more, the previous sound that he heard through the wind is starting to reach him again. He can tell that they are getting close to the source. Close enough for him to listen to the alluring tune that has been calling for the troll more clearly and identify it as a female voice, singing to the animals and the forest, and his fear escalates further.

Oh yes, there is no doubt that the Queen will have my head for this, Sir Noah wonders to himself as he straightens up and clutches at the horse’s reign tightly to keep it steady. He knows that he is only going to put the Prince in danger, but Sir Noah has no other choice.

“Your Highness! It’s the voice! The troll is after the one who is singing this melody!” he starts shouting at the Prince, who now has his eyebrows furrowed with deep focus, growing concerned with Sir Noah’s pleading words.

“Prince Jungkook, you must hurry and stop him before he gets to the singing lady!”

“There you are, sweet little Princess. Such pretty voice. Pretty enough to eat!”

For a moment, you cannot comprehend what is actually happening.

One minute, you were walking between the bushes and the flower beds, admiring the wildflowers blooming under the morning sky while humming to the birdsong echoing through the woods. And then, suddenly, the lovely birdsong stopped, the forest fell quiet, and your animal friends became so agitated that their cheerful chirps and giggles faded to whispers.

The next thing you knew, your peaceful moment with your friends was broken when the ground you were standing on began to quake, the trees up the hill began to shake furiously before they parted, and a giant troll burst through the thickets. He spoke with broken dialect and a menacing tone of voice, followed by an eerie roar coming out of his mouth as he started barrelling his way towards you.

At first, there is nothing that you can do except to remain frozen. You are too stunned to move, unable to react as you watch this monster running straight towards you. It is also baffling to see that the creature is doing it while screaming and looking so happy about eating you.

“_______! Snap out of it!!” Poppy suddenly screams, snapping you out of your daze. “We need to run. Now!”

With a gasp, you hike up your skirt and quickly turn away. “Run, everyone!” you shout at your friends who immediately scatter to find their escape, while you struggle to run the opposite way to confuse the creature.

Although it doesn’t seem like your effort is needed, because the troll seems to have set his eyes on you and you alone, as none of your fleeing companions catches his eyes and he is still running to get you. “Why is it chasing me?”

“I don’t know, but keep running!” Poppy continues to scream, still perched on your shoulder with her claws sinking into the fabric of your dress as she holds on tightly.

Normally, you consider yourself quite a runner. There have been times when you would run in the woods, racing against Ada or the wild hares that would often hang out by the lake just for fun. Sometimes you would run with the fairies, even if only to see if you could outrun those who have magic on their side to give them speed.

Yet for some reason, running seems like a struggle as you try to escape the giant troll that seems so engaged in the thought of grabbing you with its filthy hands. You feel as if there is some weight slowing you down, forgetting the fact that you have a basket filled with assortments hanging in one arm while your long skirt is dragging you back.

“The basket! Leave it!” Poppy yells at you once she realises that you are struggling and notices the reason why.

“But it’s for Nana!”

Poppy growls—actually growls—in response. “There’s not even going to be any part of you left to bring them home to Nana if you get freaking eaten by that—that thing!”

As you take a quick glance over your shoulder, seeing how close the giant beast is getting to you, you realise that Poppy is right. At the corner of your eyes, you see the cluster of narrow trees leading up the hill and aim for it to find your escape, hoping that you can shake him off on a rising terrain.

It’s going to be a struggle running up the hill, yet your gut feeling tells you that it’s worth the effort. So you make a run for it, clutching the basket tightly to your chest to keep it safe until you can find a place to hide it.

As you slip between the narrow opening between the trees, you can hear the troll having a hard time following your trail without breaking and getting stumbled by them. You keep running, getting out of breath as you reach the top of the hill, and soon the cluster of trees opens up and grass gives way beneath your feet.

“We’re running out of trees!” Poppy screams, getting a good grasp of what you have been planning to do.

“No, we’re not! We’re almost there!” you yell back at her with gasping breath, and with your eyes set on your destination.

Right there.

Right before your eyes, there stand the twin old elm trees that have grown nearly doubled the height of the hill, with massive branches spreading out to look like two giant canopies of leaves covering the top of the hill. Situated right between them is a massive boulder, firmly standing like the crown of the hill and you have decided — sometime between the hysteria of seeing a troll in this part of the forest and the terror of knowing that he is hunting you — that this place would serve you perfectly in your escape.

Because that boulder marks the end of the hill, and there is nothing else but a massive drop of cliff with rocky walls and the rough stream waiting below.

“Hold on, Poppy!”

Your warning is barely enough to get your friend to tighten her grip on your shoulder when you hop over the boulder, using it to dodge the troll’s hand as he tries to swipe you off the ground. Tossing the basket to the side of the boulder with the hope of keeping it safe until later, you plant your hand on the rock’s surface and swivel around, using it as leverage to switch your direction right before reaching the very edge of the precipice and evade the troll as you roll to the left.

“Aahhh, Blossom!”

“Stop running and let Troll catch you!” the troll roars as he fails to grab you, and his voice grows louder, shifting into a pained roar the moment he loses his balance and trips over the boulder.

Seeing this, a victorious squeal almost escapes your lips. But before you even get the chance to celebrate the success of your escape scheme, you notice too late that your ploy isn’t going as planned.

“Oh, bollocks!” you cry out when you realise that the troll has fallen a bit too soon.

Instead of being thrown off the ledge as you had expected he would after tripping over the boulder, the troll is sprawled on top of the rock, with one hand holding on the edge to stop him from falling over. And the troll—although fallen over and is struggling to push himself up—is still determined to grab you.

Adding salt to your wounded pride, you seem to have also failed to measure the beast’s size. Even sprawled at an odd angle, the troll’s limbs are still long enough to reach you. Sliding back on the slippery rock, you try to put some distance between you, just in time for his massive hand to swipe over the rock, missing the hem of your dress merely inches away.

In desperate need of escape, Poppy jumps off your shoulder just as you are getting off-balance and nearly falling over the ledge instead. You watch breathlessly as Poppy starts climbing up the tree rapidly in her panic while you feel like you cannot move.

“Come on, ________!”

Once again, her voice snaps you out of it, and you begin to follow suit, seeing that there is no escape now with the troll blocking your way back down the hill and the long drop down the cliff walls waiting for you on the other side. Right as you start climbing up the trees, you sense the troll struggling to rise beneath you. Climbing up takes quite an effort when you are in your summer dress, but all the shenanigans you got yourself into growing up may have taught you enough how to climb up quickly.

From the corner of your eyes, you see the troll rising back up to his feet. Wobbling and swaying around as he tries to find balance over the rocky slip beneath him. But you barely pay attention to the beast when something else is grabbing your attention from not so far away.

You can hear the sound of hoofs rapidly racing through the trees. You have been hearing this noise for quite some time already, you realise, coming from a distance while you were focused on trying to escape the troll. Maybe it even started at the same time the troll first appeared from that other hill, chasing the beast the best it could even though failing to catch up on time before the troll reached you.

And now, you can hear it getting closer. And closer.

You can almost see it, the white horse that is running through the cluster of trees to get to you. Yet your curiosity to know where this stranger is coming from and who might be riding the white horse becomes a distraction, causing you to make another mistake.

You start to climb over the nearest long branch that looks strong enough to withstand your weight, hoping that it can keep you away from the troll’s reach. Yet you cannot help but keep throwing quick glances over the line of trees, hoping to see this stranger who is racing towards the foray instead of running away from it.

That is how you miss your footing.

Within a blink of an eye, instead of perching securely on the branch, you find yourself dangling desperately onto it, your hands barely making it in time to find a firm hold to stop you from falling over.

“Aaahhh!!”

“Blossom!” Poppy calls out in panic at the sound of your scream, and she quickly races back down, grabbing onto your wrist as she tries to pull you up. Only that the poor squirrel’s effort seems futile when gravity keeps pulling you down instead of giving in. “Girl, I don’t have enough muscles for this! Pull yourself up!”

“I’m trying!”

While you and Poppy are panicking and struggling to get you back up on the tree, the troll starts balancing himself on the boulder while humming, “Come here, pretty girl. Come to Troll’s hands!”

You open your mouth to shout back at the offensive troll with disgust, only to have another voice shouting before you can get your voice out.

“No! Keep your hands off of her!”

All heads snap to look at the white horse coming out of the woods. The steed races with full force up the rising terrain. But it is the rider that manages to catch your eyes the most. His eyes look fierce with determination but also a hint of thrill as he focuses on the troll.

As if he is having so much fun with this hunt and is eager to finish it.

And he looks captivating as he is doing it. Even more so when he pulls out his sword, wielding it to challenge the beast that barely takes notice, as he is busy trying to grab your ankles.

But you take notice of him. You also notice the way your heart is racing rapidly for a different reason.

Unable to process what—or, in this case, who—you are seeing, Poppy speaks first, ”And who in the Fates’ name is that?”

“That’s—”

There is no way.

Your words fail you in your shock and relief. Pure disbelief runs through you, and you almost feel your grip loosening with how astonished you are at what you are witnessing.

Because there is no possible way for the Prince Charming himself to come and save you. Just like he did in your dream.

“Hang on! Stay where you are!”

The thrill that Jungkook has been feeling while he was racing across the hills to chase the damn troll is slowly shifting into fright once he gets a clear sight of what is happening. He watches with wide eyes as you desperately dangle from the tree branch, your legs swinging to avoid the troll’s grasp and your hands barely strong enough to hold on.

He noticed that you stopped trying to pull yourself up for a brief moment, distracted by his arrival. Yet his shout snaps you back to focus, and he is relieved to see you pulling up, trying your best to climb back onto the branch with the help of a—a squirrel?

Now that he believes that you are going to be safe—even if only for a while—Jungkook focuses on the troll again. This time, he is ready to swing his sword, which reflects the sunlight as Jungkook raises his arm over his head. The strong shine is blinding, and Jungkook uses it to distract the troll and pull his attention away from you.

“Over here, you damn troll!” he shouts with a wicked laugh that will definitely give Sir Noah another headache.

With a feral roar, the troll turns to face Jungkook. “You again. Troll don’t want to go with you. Troll want little girl for snacks.”

A sharp, panicked scream escapes you while Jungkook marches forward with his sword swinging. The troll fights back, bending forward with his arms swinging left and right, back and forth, between trying to grab Jungkook and stopping the sword from reaching his chest—right where he would easily be wounded.

Yet Jungkook easily evades each swipe of hands, his white horse following his command to escape and slip away while bringing him closer.

Except while Jungkook manages to avoid the troll’s attacks, you aren’t having as much luck. Because with each swipe of the troll’s hands and each stomp of his feet, the troll causes the tree where you are dangling on to shake and sway along with the force of his movements. And it is making it harder for you to hold on, much less to climb back on top.

Jungkook waits until the troll is fully facing him before initiating his final attack, making haste about it before you lose your grip and fall over. With a grunt, Jungkook swings his arm back and flings the sword forward, aiming for the troll’s left chest. The sword floats in the air for a brief moment before it strikes its target perfectly.

The troll roars in pain. His hands reach up to grab the sword—which has lodged deeply into his chest—and he staggers back, losing his balance before he falls over the ledge and starts plummeting down the cliff.

Unfortunately, the troll refuses to fall alone. Right before his fall, he reaches out, trying to grab onto the elm tree where you are hanging from as if to stop his fall. Yet his grip never takes hold. Only his sharp nails manage to scratch the tree trunk, shaking the giant tree.

Shaking you, until you finally lose your grip.

A scream erupts through your lips as you start falling from height.

You close your eyes shut during your fall, fearing the long drop and the pain that may come after. Except the pain never comes. Instead, you fall right into something that is soft and hard at the same time.

Warmth engulfs you right away, even before a pair of arms wrap themselves around you. Whatever surface that you have just landed on is beginning to move, rocking back and forth as if it is trying to balance itself under your weight.

You are not too sure yet if you are safe, so you keep your eyes closed shut. It doesn’t matter if you just witnessed the troll falling off the cliff, you can almost feel the shadow of his presence. As if you still have to avoid his relentless attacks.

But then a soft voice reassuringly speaks to you, coaxing you to open your eyes, “It’s okay, Princess. I got you.”

Slowly, your eyes flutter open. And the first thing that you see once your gaze clears out brings those flutters down to your chest.

A pair of dark-coloured eyes that remind you of the night sky are looking back at you, glowing as if there are a million stars in them. He has a pretty face framed with strands of soft hair that have fallen in a flurry mess, perhaps from racing through the woods on his horse to get to you.

And that pretty face seems to grow even brighter when the man, your hero, smiles at you.

It won’t be until later for you to realise that the steady rocking you felt earlier had been the white horse’s movements, as it was struggling to adjust to your weight, while its rider struggled a little to adjust your position on his lap and control his horse until it calmed down. Yet none of it matters now. Not when you are completely entranced with his presence.

All because it feels like you have just witnessed your creation—the dream prince statue that you worked hard on this morning—coming to life right before your eyes.

“It’s you. The boy I saw in my dreams.” The words slip out of your lips before you can stop yourself.

Your voice comes out as nothing more but a whisper, but there is no doubt that he can hear you perfectly. You can see it from the way his smile is growing wider.

As if it pleases him to see you so stunned, while he takes pride in this moment when he says,

“It’s me. Your Prince Charming.”

He winks, and your skin flushes with warmth. “I’m Prince Jungkook. But you can call me Jungkook.”

An incredulous laugh begins to bubble its way up your throat, yet not a sound comes out of your lips as you look at him, stunned, as you are still feeling as if you are caught in a daze which leaves you speechless. It was mere moments ago when you had almost gotten trampled down and then eaten by a giant troll after all, and then he came out of nowhere, rescuing you from said troll right before you ended up getting flattened into the forest’s grounds or deep into his stomach.

And then you suddenly found yourself falling into your hero’s lap — quite literally. And that hero turns out to be Prince Charming himself, who seems to have pride as massive as the entire kingdom of Andalasia as he speaks about himself while smiling broadly at you.

It is quite a lot to take in, and you have no idea what to say or how to react. The only thing that you can do is to sit there, perched sideways above his massive horse with his arms holding you to him and keeping you from falling, while your gaze remains locked on the deep eyes that were similar to the ones you vaguely saw in your dreams.

Unaware of the reason why you are stunned to silence, the Prince, Jungkook, may have misread your loss for words as fear. Because he suddenly begins rubbing your back while speaking gently to you, “It’s okay. You are safe now.”

“Yes, thank you,” you mutedly whisper, before you finally snap out of it and realise — he did just save your life! “Oh, that’s right! You saved my life.”

“I guess I did.” There is a hint of relief in the sound of his soft chuckle, making you wonder if he was deeply concerned with you because of your silence. “Do you live anywhere near these woods? Will you be able to return home?”

Blinking your eyes, you turn and look around to notice how far you have gone. It’s not like you had paid much attention to where you were heading while running away from danger.

Yet you are quite familiar with this place, recognising the twin elm trees on the top of the hill which have always been visible when you look out the windows of your bedchamber. Except the distance has always made them seem smaller than their actual size, now that you are looking at it from a closer angle.

You are surprised to realise that you have deviated quite far from your original route, and most obviously, away from home. So surprised that you have no idea what to say to the Prince.

He asks you again, sounding more concerned this time, even if his smile has yet to fade. “Where do you live? How about I give you a ride home?”

Before you can answer him, a sharp gasp breaks the moment between you. Followed with a rushed, panicked voice, saying, “N-no, Your Highness. Forgive me, but you should really go back to the castle. I’m sure the lady is going to be fine without—”

“Forgive me, Sir Noah. But I won’t be much of a gentleman if I don’t take the lady home right away and let her run home on her own after facing such peril,” the Prince says, cutting the other gentleman off before he can say more, without even looking away from you.

You, on the other hand, are shocked that you have failed to notice that there is someone else who has been there with the Prince. Too captivated with your hero’s arrival to realise it. Now, however, as you look over the Prince’s shoulder, you see an older—much older, looking at his partly greying hair and his deep scowl—gentleman on a darker and slightly older horse slowly coming up to the Prince.

“Go back to the castle and collect some men to retrieve the troll,” the Prince continues as he pulls on the rein, ready to command his horse to start moving again. He only looks briefly over his shoulder to greet his companion with a smirk, “I’ll see you back at the castle.”

“But wait, my Prince! Your Highness!” the gentleman shouts, yet the Prince has already ordered his horse to set off to leave this place. But not before he expertly guides the horse to leap across the boulder, giving him a chance to snatch the basket full of goods which you tossed away earlier and allowing Poppy to jump onto your lap.

“Is everyone ready?” he asks, eyeing you as you hold your basket and Poppy securely in your arms. Without waiting for your answer, he nods and shouts an order. The horse takes off, heading downhill at a rapid pace as if it hadn’t been racing across the forest and working hard to help its master defeat the troll.

The other gentleman, Sir Noah, tries and fails to catch up as the horse begins galloping through the thick woods. The gentleman’s voice quickly fades in the distance as he calls out to Prince Charming desperately to make him come back, “Prince Jungkook! You must not do this!”

After reaching halfway across the forest, Prince Jungkook orders his horse to slow down, and the journey continues leisurely. It seems like he is giving his dear horse a chance to take it easy while he takes a moment to enjoy this moment of calmness.

“This is a beautiful forest,” he muses as he looks around. You cannot help but straighten up proudly at his comment. Because you cannot help but agree with him.

Here, away from the scene of chaos, everything feels right again. The breeze feels calming after the entire ordeal. The sound of rustling leaves above you becomes music to your ears, even though it doesn’t do much to drown the rapid sound of your heartbeat. Even the birdsong has returned. The rustling sounds in the bushes let you know that the little critters have gone out of their hiding places.

As if peace has been restored, and the upsetting event which disrupted the entire forest has been erased from existence.

But while the Prince is comfortably taking everything in, you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him.

Feeling your gaze, Prince Jungkook suddenly looks at you. His deep, amused gaze feels so overwhelming that your face immediately starts to flush warmly. You look away when it becomes too much.

“The other gentleman from before,” you ask with a small voice, “Is it really all right to leave him behind and send him away? He seemed—concerned.”

Jungkook laughs. There is something wicked and naughty in the way he is smiling when you look at him again. “There is no need to worry about Sir Noah. He gets concerned of almost about everything. Mostly about me, though.”

“Ah, I see.”

Falling into a brief pause, you feel the tension slowly being chipped away. You realise only now that Jungkook has been using the hand that is not holding the horse’s rein to hold your waist, keeping you safe against his chest.

“So, um—Prince Jungkook?” you speak again to break the tension between you, “What were you doing in the forest this early in the day?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows form a deep crease at your question. “The castle received news about a troll that has been going on a rampage—ruining farmers’ properties, stealing crops and livestock from those poor farmers, and threatening to loot nearby villages. Sir Noah and I left the castle before dawn to catch the troll before it could reach another village.”

He stops with a grimace before looking at your face again. “Perhaps I should apologise. If only I had done a better job at capturing the troll and stopping it from escaping us, you wouldn’t have found yourself in such peril.”

You wave your hand at him. “Oh, that’s all right. You saved my life, so all is forgiven.”

The crease between his eyebrows eases when he smiles. “You said you saw me in your dreams?”

Your eyes grow wide when you recall the way you had blurted out about your silly dream when you had just met him. “Yes, yes I did!” you nervously admit to him, before adding with a whisper, “I—think?”

Jungkook’s grin widens as he admits, “I may have seen you in mine too, Princess.”

“Oh, I’m not a princess. I’m just _______,” you say to him with a nervous chuckle, “Although my friends and my grandmother often call me Blossom.”

“Blossom. Interesting nickname,” he muses, “My mother used to call me ‘her silly little rabbit,’ although I’m not quite sure what that means.” His eyebrows crease again as he thinks deeply about it, making you realise that he looks—adorable, when he isn’t focused on defeating beasts and having fun racing with his horse.

Yet your admiration fades when you come to a jolt, realising what he meant. “Your mother? The—the Queen?” you ask him and he nods. You have many questions running through your head right now, yet you simply ask him the one thing that seems to have gotten stuck in your mind, “What did you mean that you may have seen me too?”

With a grin, Jungkook answers you excitedly, “I might have. I don’t always remember my dreams, but I’m sure that I’ve seen you in it.” He seems sure of himself that you don’t feel any need to question it. Any doubt that you may feel disappears anyway when he is looking at you with those eyes of his, and with a smile that makes your heartbeat jump and gallop. Just like his white horse earlier, especially when you hear him say, “That’s why I know that our meeting must have been fated, don’t you agree?”

You can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Is that so?”

“I know so,” he confidently says as he pulls you even closer to his chest. “Our dreams have shown us that we are meant to be. That’s why, I think we should get married.”

You let out a surprised gasp. “M-married?” The sound of your laughter erupts through the woods, drowning the sound of Poppy’s surprised screech.

“Yes, absolutely. We can get married tomorrow.”

The flutters that have been growing in your chest start to go wild. “To-tomorrow?!”

“Yes, isn’t that how the story goes?” he says with a wide smile on his face, reminding you of the smile that you wore all morning when you were talking about your dream prince. It seems as if you are still dreaming now, or that you have been brought back to your dream from last night when he recounts what had just transpired, making you think back about your dream. “I saved you from the evil monster who tried to harm you, swept you off your feet, and then we’ll marry in the castle, and then we’ll share our true love’s kiss—”

Your eyes grow wide. “A true love’s kiss,” you murmur to yourself, to which Poppy turns to look at you with an expression of shock and bewilder. Yet you pay no mind to her, when you are in too much in awe, unable to believe that this is real.

“—and we’ll live happily ever after,” the Prince continues with a beaming smile. “Isn’t that right? So why wait? What do you say?”

You can hear your grandmother’s voice in your head, reminding you not to get lost in your dreams and to always think rationally. You can also feel Poppy’s panicked little grip on your dress and the sound of her stuttering, asking you to pay attention to her.

But every part of your dreams—both from the one you have harboured since you were a young girl and the one you had last night—comes to drown everything to the background. This is it, you wonder to yourself, this is my dream coming true!

With an incredulous laugh slipping out of your lips, you wrap your arms around his neck and say, “Yes, let’s get married. Tomorrow.”

Prince Jungkook joins you in laughter, neither of you noticing the way Poppy is now shaking her head rapidly in disbelief when he says, “Then I shall send the news to the castle and we will have our magical wedding by noon tomorrow.”

“Yes!” you excitedly say with a cheer, “Oh, I can’t wait.”

Your chest is filled with joy and a flutter of nerves that it almost feels like you are about to burst. Things are happening so quickly, so suddenly, so soon. You had woken up this morning with joy and hope that came from the dream you had about your prince, believing that it was a sign from the universe. You never expected to have your dream coming into reality when the day has yet to reach past noon.

But here you are now, looking deep into your prince’s eyes as he is taking you home for the last time, merely a step away from your happily ever after.

Once Prince Jungkook has succeeded in bringing you safely back home to your anxious grandmother, he immediately races back to the home castle. He wastes no time making his way to the Queen’s sitting room, where he knows he will be able to find his mother enjoying her afternoon downtime.

“Queen Mother, I have news!” Prince Jungkook calls out as he marches into the den with a wide smile on his face. There is an air of joy and pleasure following him as he comes to greet his mother.

Queen Rosalyne was in the middle of arranging a flower bouquet when Jungkook rushed in. His excitement bounces against the walls, making her smile as she raises her head to look at her son. “News? What is it now, my Prince?”

Jungkook is nearly breathless when he stands before the Queen, announcing proudly. “I have good news! I know you’ll be happy.”

Holding back her soft laughter, the Queen sits back down and urges Jungkook to continue, “Fine. Tell me.”

“I have found my true love. The one I’ll be sharing my true love’s kiss with,” Jungkook declares proudly with his arms spread wide.

“Is that so?” Queen Rosalyne asks with her eyebrows raised. Soft laughter escapes her, while Jungkook has to hold back his own laughter when he notices that the Queen is saying the same thing as you did when he brought up the idea earlier.

“Who is she? From which kingdom did she come?”

Jungkook is so overwhelmed with bubbling excitement that his entire body is almost shaking. “Her name is ________, and she is from here, Andalasia.”

“Really?” the Queen asks, though she sounds quite doubtful about it. “And where did you meet this girl?”

“It’s actually an interesting story,” Jungkook says before he launches into a story time and shares with his mother everything that has happened since he left the castle this morning.

Starting from the reports about the troll and how he decided to depart at dawn to capture it, how he managed to defeat the troll the first time, only for Sir Noah to accidentally let the creature escape. Then Jungkook starts pacing back and forth as he enthusiastically describes how he raced through the forest to catch up with the troll, while the beast was focused on capturing you, and how he had saved you from the creature.

“It was love at first sight, Queen Mother. Just like the kind that people talk and sing about in their songs. The kind that is celebrated in written stories,” Jungkook concludes his story as he turns to his mother. “It was fate’s work of bringing us together, so it would be right for me to take her hand in marriage, share with her the true love’s kiss, so our love can spread magic all over our mighty kingdom.”

Silence falls between them. Jungkook feels nervous when the Queen barely shows any reaction.

“Mother?” he asks, slowly taking the seat next to the Queen. “Did you hear what I just said?”

“Yes, I hear you. I’m not quite sure that I heard you perfectly.” The Queen looks at Jungkook with a deep gaze, her brows furrowing when she asks him, “Did you say you wanted to—marry this girl?”

“I did. It would only make sense. That way we can celebrate with everyone else as we share our true love’s kiss.”

Queen Rosalyne purses her lips. She dislikes any talk about the ‘true love’s kiss,’ and she finds that she doesn’t enjoy it the most when she has to hear it coming from her own son. Yet seeing how excited the thought seems to be making him, as the Prince’s eyes are shining so brightly as he speaks about his possible marriage, and his smile grows wide, genuine, and free—something that the Queen hasn’t been able to see for a long, long time—she finds no reason to deny his wish.

It seems so wrong to deny him happiness. If any, the Queen feels relieved that she finally gets to send him off into the world and give him a reason to stop chasing beasts and monsters throughout the kingdom.

“Fine,” Queen Rosalyne says with a light scoff, “Have it your way. But you must deal with it all on your own. Have Sir Noah help you prepare for the feast if you wish to do this entire thing tomorrow.”

Prince Jungkook is so elated to gain the Queen’s approval that he is practically bouncing on his feet. The Queen holds back a smile, wondering to herself, my silly little rabbit.

She recalls how frustrated Jungkook made her when he was a child, unable to hold back his energy as he kept hopping and running all over the castle. The Queen had sniffed when she was too exhausted to catch up to him and called him out, “Stop playing like a wild rabbit and calm down,” and the nickname stuck with him—and she has used it to call him with it more endearingly—once he started growing up.

Lost in her thoughts, the Queen is caught by surprise when Jungkook bows before her and takes her hand to kiss the back of it. “Thank you, Mother. Your Majesty. You are truly a great and wise mother. I could never repay you.”

Queen Rosalyne is too stunned to speak. She isn’t one to get affected by emotions too easily, but Jungkook’s words seem to have stirred something inside her heart that has grown cold and frozen after so long. She says nothing as Jungkook turns to leave the chamber, leaving her with her running thoughts and the unsettling feeling that has been growing so intensely in her chest since the moment Jungkook mentioned your name.

At the center of Queen Rosalyne’s sitting chamber, there is a small indoor garden with a small water fountain which is made of black stone. Surrounded by well-trimmed hedges of black blooming roses, patches of green grass and white cobblestones covering the ground, the water fountain becomes the center point of the space which represents serenity and solitude.

Yet this is also the place where the Queen often practices her magic, using the secret spells that she keeps mostly to herself. She does this only when she is all alone, whether to watch over her kingdom and cast spells to protect the land, or for reasons that have nothing to do with the well-being of her people.

By the time evening comes, the Queen often uses her spells to fulfil her secret desires. Something that she is planning to do to ease the uneasiness which has been plaguing her ever since the conversation she shared with Jungkook.

As the day slowly shifts into dusk, and the Queen is quite sure that Jungkook has been gone long enough to be deep in arranging things for tomorrow, Queen Rosalyne summons Sir Noah into her chamber.

“The Prince has found a maiden to marry,” Sir Noah announces upon his arrival, meeting the Queen directly in the secret garden which he has frequently visited before.

“Yes, he had come to me this afternoon to announce his intention to marry a girl,” the Queen says, in a most calm, yet dubious tone of voice. “I’m going to assume that you have met this—girl, since I know that you were the one to join the Prince in his excursion today.”

Swallowing hard to ease his nerves, Sir Noah nods. “I was with the Prince when the maiden, uh—fell into Prince Jungkook’s arms.”

This has the Queen’s attention. Turning away from the black blooming roses that she has been tending to, Queen Rosalyne regards Sir Noah with her eyebrows raised. “How—romantic,” she murmurs, “And where did this chance encounter happen?”

Sir Noah clears his throat before answering, “The Amaranth Forest, Your Majesty. It was where Prince Jungkook and I ended up after hunting the giant troll that has been terrorising the people in Sunny Brook Hills.”

All of a sudden, the Queen’s shoulders grow tense. “Amaranth, you say?”

The cold tone of the Queen’s voice and the expression she wears on her face draws chill running down Sir Noah’s spine. He has been working in the castle with the Queen for a long, long time. Long enough to know that she is not happy to hear the information that he just gave her.

After processing this, Queen Rosalyne rises to her feet and turns, making her way to the magic water fountain. The Queen merely stands before the fountain when the thing reacts to her presence. Immediately, the air grows cold and heavy, and it becomes even more intense as Queen Rosalyne raises both of her arms over the water fountain.

The surface of the water ripples as a dark green light emerges from her hands, shining brightly while the Queen enchants her spell. The green light descends into the water, blending with the ripples as the mana shines in dark green.

The Queen steps aside and gestures at Sir Noah to come closer. “Show me.”

Gulping nervously, Sir Noah comes to the Queen's side and slowly folds the cuff of his sleeve. Offering his hand, the Queen raises her sharp nails and slits the skin of his palm, causing a small wound which is enough to let a few drops of blood taint the water inside the fountain. Once the blood blends into the water, the surface ripples intensely until the green light within starts to stretch out, and images begin to appear on the water, framed by the green mana sparkling under the calm ripples.

The Queen bends over the fountain as she is shown the series of events that happened within the depths of the Amaranth Forest this morning. Everything seems to unravel just the way Jungkook relayed it to the Queen.

The giant troll in his escape. The Prince’s relentless chase. And the maiden who was running from the wicked troll before she finally fell into the Prince’s arms.

The scene in the water changes when the Queen swaps her palm over the surface, turning back time to see your daily life in the small cabin with your grandmother. She can see you singing with your forest friends, and then cooking and laughing with your grandmother.

Seeing your grandmother, the Queen’s jaw clenches with recognition.

Too nervous to remain silent, as he is unable to read the Queen’s hard expression and lack of words, Sir Noah begins to explain the events that happened this morning, “The troll was lured into the forest by the maiden’s voice, who was singing to the forest’s creatures. And right after the Prince was able to apprehend the troll, he captured her as she—”

“How uncanny,” Queen Rosalyne murmurs almost to herself, completely disregarding Sir Noah’s rapid blabbering.

“Y-your Majesty?”

Straightening up to her full height, the Queen moves her hand over the water to enlarge the image that she is now seeing on the surface of the water. With a glance, Sir Noah can see a close-up of your face as you are riding on the horse with Prince Jungkook, before the image switches back to you working in the gardens with your grandmother.

“She looks just like her. Exactly like her,” Queen Rosalyne continues to murmur gently, astonished by the sight of you—a commoner girl from the magic forest that even Sir Noah has never met before.

“The maiden? Who are you referring to that would look like her, Your Majesty?”

The Queen gives him no answer, and instead waves her palm over the water until the image dissolves, leaving nothing more but the calm, clear water.

“When will this wedding take place? Has it been decided yet?”

Sir Noah wrings his hands together with nerves. The tension has risen exponentially within the chamber. The change in the Queen’s attitude makes him wary, and he has no idea what is happening.

“Prince Jungkook insisted on having it soon. As—as soon as tomorrow, Your Majesty. The entire castle is already in the height of the preparation for the ceremony.”

The Queen holds back the urge to curse as she turns away, enraged, and she wipes her gardening tools off her work table. The noise and clutters and the flying objects cause Sir Noah to flinch. He has no idea what is currently going on inside the Queen’s mind and chooses to remain silent rather than risk having her unleash her rage on him.

He has witnessed what happened to those who aren’t careful with their words, especially when the Queen is losing her patience like this.

“Call it off,” the Queen suddenly speaks. Her voice has calmed down, yet there is an eerie chill in her tone which makes Sir Noah shudder in fear.

“My-my Queen? What do you mean?”

Queen Rosalyne turns to face him and snaps. “I’m talking about the wedding, you fool! Call it off!”

“But-but Your Majesty, you have given your approval to the wedding,” Sir Noah struggles to speak, “The preparation is already underway. Everything is almost ready, even the Prince has gathered enough—”

The Queen releases a frustrated snarl. Her energy erupts, and a few potted plants within the garden explode under the power of her rage.

Deep down, the Queen didn’t think that it would be possible for Jungkook to make things happen within less than a day. The boy has always been hasty, and she has secretly hoped that he would stumble upon obstacles and give up on the idea of having a wedding so suddenly and have it postponed either way. But now—

Now it’s too late.

When the Queen first gave Jungkook her approval to marry you, she never thought that you would be someone who would be related to her past. She should have been more careful and made sure to find out more about your identity first before she said anything. She had a feeling that something was amiss, and now she is regretting that she hadn’t been listening to her gut.

How? How could this be?

Holding her head in her hands, the Queen chastises herself for being so reckless. Memories of her past come back to haunt her. Guilt, remorse, and hatred, all mix into one. And in her mind, everything blends together to form the shape of your face.

The face that she wishes so desperately to forget.

“Fine. Then I shall do it myself,” the Queen finally says with an eerie calmness in her voice.

“My Queen? What—what do you mean?”

Queen Rosalyne looks at her loyal aide once more and raises her chin. “I’ll make sure the wedding never happens. My son can marry, as long as it’s not with her,” she says as she slowly walks closer to Sir Noah, who can only stare at her with his eyes widening in fear.

“And you are going to help me make it happen, wouldn’t you?” the Queen whispers to him as she gently places the tip of her finger on Sir Noah’s chin, forcing him to only look at her eyes, unable to move or look away.

Gulping hard, Sir Noah quickly nods his head and faintly whispers, “Yes, my Queen.”

The steady rocking of the carriage taking you to the castle should have been able to soothe your anxiety. Maybe lull you to sleep, even.

Yet you have been too anxious that your eyes remain wide. Your hands continue to fidget on your lap and trace along your wedding dress. Not that you have no faith in yourself about the dress. But focusing on making sure that you haven’t missed a seam feels better than looking out the window and focusing on how close you are getting to your destination.

Soon enough—much sooner than expected—the carriage stops with a jolt. The rough sound of cobblestones cracking under the wheels snaps you back to focus, forcing you to raise your head just as a royal guard opens the door for you.

“Welcome to Castle Andalasia.”

Clutching the skirt of your wedding dress, you slowly step out of the carriage. Yet you fail to take notice of how tense your body has gotten. Your muscles have grown so stiff that your steps become clumsy, causing you to lose your footing.

“Oh, my!”

Barely catching yourself from falling, a nervous giggle escapes you as you straighten yourself up before anyone can step up to help. “I’m fine, so sorry.”

The royal guard steps away, leaving you alone with your little friends who have decided to keep you company, all jumping out of the carriage to surround you.

Standing at the castle's threshold, just a few steps away from entering through the main gate, you feel as if you are walking into a dream. There is a giddy feeling rushing through your body that is hard to shake. The urge to pinch yourself is also strong, yet there is nothing that you can do but clutch your skirt tighter until you feel pain in your palms to know that this is real.

That you are now standing right in front of the castle.

The castle.

The place where Queen Rosalyne resides with Prince Charming and her loyal aides. And you are not here simply to come for a formal visit like other common people would do to seek an audience with the Queen to confide about their problems. You are here today for the wedding.

And it will be your wedding.

It still hasn’t truly sunk in yet that you are to be married to Prince Charming. To marry Prince Jungkook, who is loved by everyone in Andalasia for his heroic actions in defeating all the beasts and monsters posing threats to the kingdom.

Before proceeding further, you take a moment to turn around, taking one final look at yourself through the reflection you see on the glass window of your carriage.

Pride blooms within as you look at your wedding dress. The dress is immaculate, handcrafted by your own talented hands since the moment your wedding date was made official and your loving grandmother gave her blessings. Despite her misgivings on your upcoming wedding day, your grandmother stayed up with you, assisting you as you spent all night creating this dress.

Looking at yourself, you must admit that this dress is your true masterpiece.

The bodice of the dress is made of delicate lacework that hugs your figure perfectly while hiding your flaws. The floral patterns on the bodice represent the beauty of the forest and your lovely garden back home perfectly, intertwining and cascading down your form like fresh vines with wildflowers blooming at every tip.

The lace, meticulously stitched by your own hands, is filled with every drop of hope and love that you harbour for the happily ever after that you have dreamed about for as long as you can remember.

From your shoulders, down to your arms, a similar ensemble of delicate lacework covers your skin in a comforting fit, adding modesty and elegance to your dress which seems presentable for your special day at the castle.

From the waist, the fabric flows down like a river of light, billowing into a skirt that trails down to your ankles, rippling in subtle waves with each step that you take. Layers of soft, finely crafted tulle form the skirt to create an illusion of a cloud, making it seem as if you are floating as you slowly turn and twirl to see yourself in every angle.

Around your shoulders, a veil made of the finest gossamer falls in a delicate cascade down to your back, instead of acting like a cover to shield your face from view. You have the veil fastened to your hair, which is styled in a fancy yet simple twisted bun. Tiny pearls and crystals in different sizes and shapes are woven into the fabric of the veil, and they sparkle like dewdrops under the soft glow of the bright sunlight.

Growing even more tense with nerves, your hands continue to clench and unclench around your dress, feeling lost with nothing else to hold on to. You wish that your grandmother had been fit enough to be here so you could hold her hand for support, yet you force that thought away, knowing that she hasn’t been well enough to travel far from home. Much less to walk you down the aisle to give you away to the Prince.

“Stop that right now before you ruin your dress,” Poppy suddenly scolds you, slapping the back of your hands until you let go from where she is perched on the side of the carriage.

“Here,” she says, shoving a small bouquet of flowers—filled with a collection of wildflowers, carnations, and baby’s-breath—into one of your hands while Brew, the wild badger, and the white bunnies run around the skirt of your dress as they shove a glowing tiara into your other hand.

“Put this on your head, Blossom,” they sing together cheerfully, forcing you to lean down as you accept their little gift and gently place it on the crown of your head.

“Thank you, my sweet little angels. I don’t know what I would do without you,” you whisper with a content sigh, feeling your nerves calming down as you look at your little friends.

Your eyes meet Poppy’s worried gaze as she sighs. “Are you really sure about this, ______?”

Smiling at your friend, you bend down to match her gaze. You know that Poppy has been feeling unsure about all of this. She may have kept her words to herself when the two of you were on your ride home with Prince Jungkook yesterday, yet you could still sense her concern along the way. She has also voiced her concerns about how quickly everything is unfolding, yet she did nothing to stop you from carrying on with this wedding plans when you showed how hopeful and confident you were with your decision.

Even your grandmother had been worried when you first came home with the news. Yet the Prince was there with you when he asked for her permission to marry you, which melted her heart a little that she had no other choice but to let you go.

“I am sure. What are the odds that I was to meet with Prince Charming the morning after I dreamt about him? It was definitely a sign from fate, which I must follow if I want to find my happily ever after. Surely, you’d understand.”

You said the same thing last night, when Poppy was there to help you finish your wedding dress. The same thing you also said to your grandmother once Prince Jungkook left to return to the castle, reassuring her that fate wouldn’t have given you the signs if this wasn’t meant to be.

“I do. I’m happy for you,” Poppy says with a small smile, “But you must promise me that you’ll never leave us behind and forget about us.”

“Never. The forest will always be my home. I’m sure Prince Jungkook is open to helping me make arrangements so I can still spend time with you,” you gently reassure her, “And for me to visit grandmother too from time to time.”

Poppy shakes her head and shrugs. “All right, if you say so,” she says, finally giving in, “What are you waiting for, then? It’s time to go.”

Your other forest friends who have been silent while watching you and Poppy going back and forth about the wedding are now cheering for you to go. “Let’s go, Blossom! Go!”

Their positive energy quickly rubs on you. It helps build up your excitement. A bubble of laughter comes out of you as you feel every bit of your apprehension being chipped away.

“All right, I’m ready!” you shout, inciting more cheers from your friends. “Let’s go watch me get married!”

Hiking up your skirt just enough so you won’t be stepping on the hem, you turn and start to track down the pathway leading to the main gate of the castle, carrying with you a new determination and your little friends shadowing your footsteps.

At the main gate, you are welcomed by a familiar face. Standing right before the gate is Sir Noah, still looking as graceful as how you remember him. Wearing a royal suit in dark plum colours and gold linings, his greying hair neatly combed back instead of falling down his face, he looks just like any royal advisor would.

A smile grows on his face when he sees you coming near, and you greet him with a curtsy. “It’s so nice to see you again, Sir Noah.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss. Welcome to Castle Andalasia,” he says in return. As you straighten back up, you see him looking around you while looking confused. “Are you, perhaps—on your own? Do you not have anyone with you today?”

Smiling ruefully, you slowly shake your head. “I no longer have any family other than my grandmother,” you answer with a soft voice. “It’s unfortunate that my grandmother isn’t doing well and she couldn’t travel far in a carriage.”

Something flashes in Sir Noah’s gaze—surprise, pity, sadness, and an odd look of guilt, although you cannot understand why he would feel so guilty about hearing this—before his expression clears to normal.

“But, there is nothing to worry about,” you cheerfully add, “because I have my friends here with me to witness this wonderful moment.”

Sir Noah raises his eyebrows while your friends release a loud cheer. Yet Sir Noah quickly clears his throat and shakes his head. “I see. Unfortunately, I’m afraid your friends will have to enter separately. They are guests, after all, and you might need time to finish preparing.”

While your friends express their displeasure with a series of protesting sounds, you keep a smile on your face to change Sir Noah’s mind. “Oh, but—these friends can help me get ready for the ceremony,” you let out a nervous laugh as you try to convince him, “They were the ones who helped me make this dress too.”

“And they’ve done a marvellous job,” Sir Noah smoothly says, “But I can assure you that our palace maids will be able to help you, and it will be better for your friends to simply enjoy the ceremony as guests, don’t you agree?”

Right beside you, Poppy stares at Sir Noah with a scowl on her face. Yet she also sees you getting nervous again because of the sudden change of circumstances. That is why—reluctant as she is to leave you—Poppy masks her emotions and turns to help calm you down.

“It’s okay, Blossom. I’m sure Prince Jungkook has ordered the palace maids to assist you. We’ll be seeing you later inside, okay?”

Still feeling unsure, you eventually agree. “Okay,” you murmur to Poppy before turning to Sir Noah, “But Poppy will be the one walking me down the aisle in my grandmother’s place.”

Sir Noah barely hides his displeasure this time. With his jaw clenched, he releases a sigh and says, ”Fine. That can be arranged. But you really should go now, or else, you’ll be late for your own wedding.”

“Oh, right! Absolutely.”

Finally, with a deep sigh of relief, Sir Noah steps aside to let the royal guards open the main gate for you to enter. “Follow this path right here to enter the royal garden, and someone will see you to show you where to go,” Sir Noah instructs you while gesturing towards the long-winded stone-covered pathway leading you towards the maze-like garden. With lines of green hedges on either side of the pathway and a wooden arch-shaped pergola covered in vines waiting for you halfway into the garden.

“Okay, here we go,” you whisper to yourself, saying it with a clear mind as a self-pep talk before you start walking again.

With your hands holding your skirt up, your head held high, and a long, deep breath to calm your racing heartbeat, you begin to walk down the pathway towards the center of the garden where the wedding ceremony is about to be held.

While you keep getting further away from your friends, Poppy cannot find it in her to look away. Call it a gut feeling, but the poor squirrel feels uneasy about letting you go off on your own. But she doesn’t really have a choice now, does she?

She is no longer in the forest where she gets to call the shots, and this shady old man next to them is the one controlling the situation.

Poppy throws a side glance at the man who you called as Sir Noah. “So where are we supposed to go?”

The smile that Sir Noah gives her then brings chill through her tiny body. “Come with me.”

The group of little animals look at each other before they follow Sir Noah through a separate pathway. Here, the path is covered with a rougher kind of gravel, and the vines and hedges look more unkempt. The further they walk, the closer they huddle together in fear, while Sir Noah barely cares to soothe their worries.

Even his warm welcome earlier has shifted. He acts more cold with the animals and is even rough when he sends the royal guards away.

They continue to walk until an iron gate appears down the pathway. It looks a bit rusty, and Poppy has an odd feeling about all of this when she sees Sir Noah pulling out a key from his pocket.

The iron gate creeks heavily when he opens it, causing all the animals to grimace. “You can enter through this gate,” Sir Noah gestures toward the other side of the gate, and every inch of her muscles fight back to stop Poppy from walking forward.

“Where are you leading us to?” she snaps, and Sir Noah’s expression darkens.

“Are you insinuating that I’m separating you from the maiden?”

Brew, now shaking in fear, innocently whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, “But this isn’t the way to the royal garden.”

Your forest friends may not have had any experience visiting the castle, but they are wild animals from the forest, capable of telling the difference between the well-kept garden and the wild. Beyond the iron gate, the air flows differently. The grasses are thicker, and they can all smell the scent of the muddy lake from all the way here.

“You are sending us away from the castle,” Poppy growls, absolutely pissed off that the one that you have trusted to take care of your friends is doing this behind your back.

Sending them away from you, from the wedding, and back out there into the wild.

“What is going on? Is _____ even safe?”

“What are you planning to do?”

Poppy’s little friends begin to protest once they also sense that something is wrong, while the scowl on Sir Noah’s face deepens. “Oh, bollocks. You are too loud,” he snaps. All so suddenly, he lifts a massive shovel that seems to come out of nowhere and starts swinging it towards Poppy and her friends, forcing them to run towards the opened gate before they can get hurt.

“Now, shoo! Get out of here!” he shouts between each swing.

Once every single one of your little friends is out the gate, Sir Noah throws the shovel away and closes the iron gate. The sound of the lock being latched back in place pierces through the animals’ chests.

“Nooooo!”

“Blossom!”

Some of them begin snarling and growling, even if they are completely powerless against the tall, elegant, yet evil human before them.

“What about Blossom?” Brew asks while shaking, both in fear and rage, “What’s going to happen to our friend?”

Sir Noah leans down, showing his evil smirk as he peeks through from between the iron bars. “Don’t worry about your friend. We’ll make sure that she’s in good hands.”

With his evil laugh, Sir Noah turns away, leaving your frightened animal friends behind.

“Where is the Prince? I know that Prince Jungkook will never stand for this!” Poppy shouts in her last effort to threaten Sir Noah, only for the latter to ignore her words, and the sound of his laughter continues to echo further away before he disappears into the royal garden.

At the depth of the royal garden, you find yourself getting lost.

It turns out that this place is a maze, confirming your first suspicion when you first laid eyes on the winding pathway disappearing between the tall green hedges. The deeper you walk into the garden, the higher the hedges grow, and the thicker the trees and bushes around you become. The variety of flowers can’t help much to show you where you are, since everything looks the same no matter where you go.

While worrying about not being able to find your way, you also worry about your friends. You wish you had insisted on having Poppy come with you. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t feel so alone and she could help you find the way by using her sharp senses.

Will they be alright, you wonder as you think about your furry friends. But knowing that they are in the hands of Sir Noah gives you some peace of mind. Surely, the kind gentleman will be able to help and keep them safe. Right?

But speaking of Sir Noah—

I thought he said that someone would come to see me and show me the way. But where are they?

You have been walking for a while, yet there is nobody in sight. Not even a shadow of a person. It seems odd to think that the royal garden will be this empty, especially with a wedding happening this afternoon.

Turning at a corner, you find yourself at an opening between the maze. A small gazebo is placed at the center with wooden benches inside. Your exhaustion draws you towards it, and with your eyes focused on the benches that seem comfortable for you to sit on, you don’t notice it when a movement suddenly happens from nearby.

The rustling sound of the bushes is the only warning that you get before someone suddenly emerges from the shadows.

“Aaahh!” you scream in fear, while the figure before you quickly apologises.

“Oh, dear me. I’m so sorry, dearest,” an old woman’s voice speaks to you, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eyes still widened in fear, you look at the person before you. Instead of a royal guard or a palace maid, you are met with an old woman wearing a long dress in an earthly colour under a worn-out cloak that hangs to the ground.

“Oh, that’s okay,” you answer with a nervous chuckle. “It’s a harmless mistake. Are you—are you from around here? I think I’ve gotten lost. I’m supposed to be at the wedding spot by now, but I haven’t seen anyone.”

The old woman smiles. “Oh, you poor thing. His Highness the Prince should’ve done better to prepare a guard for his bride,” she complains, tsk-ing her tongue and shaking her head with disappointment. “Maybe I can help guide you there? This old hag may not look it, but I do know my way around the castle like the back of my hand.”

Perhaps, it would have been best if you were wary of an unknown stranger suddenly offering help during dire times. Yet you are quickly reminded of your grandmother waiting back home and think nothing of the old woman who is offering her assistance so kindly.

“Please, if you may. I don’t want to be late for my own wedding,” you answer her with a relieved sigh.

“Excellent. Come along, then,” the cloaked woman turns and starts moving towards a different pathway with confident strides. You begin to believe that you are making a good decision then.

“You look nervous, dear. Is everything okay? I’m sure you're excited about the wedding, aren’t you?” she asks after you walk with her for a moment longer, surprising you that she notices.

Because you are nervous. Only that it has been suppressed under your worries while you were getting lost in the maze earlier.

“I actually am, if I must admit. Both nervous and excited,” you answer as the flutter in your chest grows wild all of a sudden. “To think that in a matter of minutes, the Prince Charming and I are going to—” your voice falters with nerves, “That we’re going to have our—” Thinking about what is going to happen causes your heartbeat to race, making it hard for you to breathe, to speak, that when you speak next, it almost feels like you are listening to yourself from a far distance away, “We are going to have our true love’s kiss.”

It feels too surreal to think that it is finally happening. Your dreams are coming true. Even saying it out loud doesn’t seem to make it real. Stunned at how your life is changing so rapidly, you come to a halt.

“I am most happy for you, my dear. But surely you can’t go into your wedding without going through the old tradition of the castle,” the old woman speaks again with joy—as if she is truly happy for you.

“The old tradition?” you ask, confused. Because you are quite sure that you know everything that you need to know about any kind of wedding tradition within the kingdom, and you are not sure if you are missing anything.

“Why—to visit the magic fountain, of course,” the woman explains nonchalantly. “All brides would go to the magic fountain and make their final wish, hoping for their happily ever after before they are to wed. The fountain has magic spells, you see, to make sure that your wish is to be granted and for everything to go well until the end.”

“My—wish?”

“Yes. Your wish,” she says. The smile that the old woman shows you as she turns to face you brings a shudder to your skin. It is an indescribable feeling. Yet you brush it off, telling yourself that maybe your nerves are acting up again. “Do you have a wish, sweetheart?”

“I wish,” you find yourself answering, “that we’ll live happily ever after.”

Because that is the only wish that would make sense, after all. Who wouldn’t want to find their happy ever after? While you are so close to having it, deep down, this is what you have been wishing for since you were a little girl and you want nothing to come your way from getting it.

“Then you should pray for your wish to make sure you’ll have it fulfilled, don’t you agree?” the old woman asks you in the most tempting way that you cannot find it in you to say no to. When she sees that you don’t seem convinced enough to follow her, she immediately adds, “It’s not too far from here, and it’ll take only a few seconds, so you won’t be late for your wedding. I promise.”

“You’re right,” you say to her, suddenly feeling hopeful again. “Besides, it would be wrong for me to skip a tradition on my special day.”

“Good girl,” she says. For a brief moment, you believe that her voice oddly changes. Yet you pay no attention to it as she already begins moving—suspiciously quickly, for an old woman wearing a long, heavy cloak—through the maze again, giving you no other choice but to follow her close behind.

It doesn’t take long before you emerge into another opening. This time, it seems like you have reached the far end of the garden, and right before your eyes stands the fountain that the kind old woman mentioned earlier.

“Here it is, the magic wishing fountain,” she says as she steps aside, allowing you to have a good look at the fountain.

And what you see right in front of your eyes leaves you completely lost for words.

“It’s—beautiful,” you muse softly, admiring the beautiful fountain that you have never once seen before.

The magic fountain is placed deliberately at what seems to be the heart of the royal garden, right where the sunlight is filtered through a canopy of emerald leaves, giving it a mellow, yet romantic atmosphere.

Surrounded by cobblestone pathways and vibrant flower beds, the water fountain stands elegantly between the wall of green around you. It is not made in a grand, ostentatious structure, but a modest creation which seems like it was naturally formed between the green hedges and lush trees, almost blending into the solid castle wall that spreads wide through the royal garden.

The base, crafted from gleaming white marble, frames a pool of crystal-clear water which ripples gently from the center. The intricate design of the marble stone makes it seem like a bed of white flowers emerging from the ground, delicate and sturdy at the same time, instead of a stiff rock which made up the small fountain your grandmother built back home.

The marble stone frame at the base goes all the way to the back, blending into the contrasting dark wall made of natural stones. You can vines of wild ivy growing from the top of the wall, extending down to the back of the circular pool filled with fresh water.

The dark wall rises to the very top, where crystal-clear water cascades down from a seemingly mysterious source. To your eyes, it looks like a small replica of the natural waterfall from the heart of the Amaranth Forest, your secret sanctuary that not even your grandmother has ever been to before.

The fountain's waterfall sparkles in a silver glow that looks ethereal to your eyes, casting a soft, shimmering light as it spills down to the pool of water underneath. The pool water also exudes a silvery luminescence that is almost blinding, yet you find yourself unable to look away.

There is something about the fountain that keeps drawing you in. A tightness forms in your chest while you are drawn to the mesmerising sight of the water fountain that looks more like it was crafted by nature instead of manmade. It seems to be reminding you of the forest, helping you forget where you are for a brief moment and taking away all of your worries at the same time.

The soothing sound of the trickling water feels entrancing, calming every nerve-ending, every tension in your body which has grown since you left home.

Standing this close to it, you can almost feel it, the magic that comes from the spilling water, beckoning you to reach out for it.

Too immersed in the water fountain and its spellbinding magic, everything around you seems to fade away. Every other sound becomes nothing but white noise, and the presence of the stranger beside you becomes nothing more but a shadow looming close by. You barely notice when she slowly begins to move away. Her voice starts fading in and out through your senses, alluring you in an oddly enchanting way.

Just like a spell would.

At times like this, Poppy wishes that she has wings instead of these flimsy paws.

She also regrets not having her winged friends—the twin sparrows, the doves, and the little hummingbirds—with them this afternoon so she could ask them for help. But they hadn’t been pleased to make the long trip to the castle, and someone had to stay behind to watch over your sick grandmother and help her around the cabin.

Yet she pushes aside those thoughts for now, focusing on climbing up the wild vines to reach the top of the outer walls of the castle instead. She is hoping that being high enough from the ground will help her find out where you are, to see if you are safe or if Sir Noah is putting you in harm’s way. Maybe she can also find Prince Jungkook and let him know what had happened.

Poppy has no idea what is going on and why things are turning this way. She can only hope that Prince Jungkook has nothing to do with this. However, she does have a suspicion about a certain someone who might have planned this whole thing up to ruin your and Prince Jungkook’s wedding.

The only thing that she can’t understand is — Why? Why would anyone do this?

Poppy is out of breath when she is finally at the top of the wall. Now that she is high enough, she can see the outer area where she and her friends had been discarded to — the small lake that is surrounded by trees in various odd shapes, unkempt bushes and grass, with growing wildflowers that are scattered in all visible corners that she can see from up high.

On the other side of the walls, the garden looks like a massive maze, but way more well-maintained and luxurious — except for the small area beyond the locked iron gate that seems to be neglected compared to other parts of the garden.

Yet Poppy doesn’t waste any more time idling by. She isn’t here to watch the scenery and marvel at it, after all. Once she manages to catch her breath and calm down, she takes one last glance and her other friends who are waiting for her on the ground and launches into a sprint, tracing the top of the wall with a steady run to find a better spot that will allow her to have a better sight of the inner garden.

It takes a while, but eventually, Poppy can see a glimpse of your wedding dress flashing between the tall hedges. Relieved, she starts cheering to herself. She has been separated from you for long enough that anything could have happened. She keeps going, finding the right spot with the perfect angle where she can draw your attention.

“_________! Look over here!” she keeps shouting while waving her paws in the air. “Please, Blossom!”

When she fails to get your attention, Poppy jumps onto the nearest tree, hoping to get higher. The new angle allows her to see what she failed to see earlier.

“Who is that?” she wonders out loud once she notices that you are not alone. But it isn’t a maid or a guard who is with you, as promised by Sir Noah when he sent you away.

Instead, all Poppy can see from here is an old woman wearing a cloak that may have seen better days. From this spot, she can also see the hag smiling wickedly while you have your attention on a fountain that looks to be a part of the garden, and you definitely cannot see what the hag is up to when she secretly moves to stand behind you.

“No! ________!”

The wall of falling water on the fountain looks so mesmerising that you cannot look away. It seems alluring, enticing you to come closer.

But you are frozen on the spot. And for a moment, you almost forget why you are here. The thought of your wedding no longer takes the front seat in your mind when you keep feeling like you are being pulled to the fountain.

“Now, go on then. Make your wish,” you hear the woman coaxing you. Once again, her voice seems to change, no longer sounding like the weak and soft voice that you first heard from her. But then again, it could have been your imagination, because her voice softens again when she speaks,

“Didn’t you say that you have a wish, my fair maiden? This is your chance to make your wish come true.”

“Yes,” you hear yourself speak as if you are no longer inside your body. “Yes, I do have a wish.”

Closing your eyes, you look deeper into your heart and mind, knowing what exactly you want to wish for before taking the next step. Clasping your hands together, you begin to make your wish.

“I wish—that we, Prince Jungkook and I, will live happily ever a—oh!”

All of a sudden, you feel a strong push. You barely open your eyes in shock when you see your entire world being tilted over, and you are suddenly plunged deep into the water. The faux waterfall continues to flow, covering your entire body as you continue to submerge into the bottomless body of water and the world around you fades.

Up on the surface, the cloaked hag bends over the fountain and releases a wicked laugh. She waves her arms around her and starts chanting a spell on the fountain, and a thick, dark green mist emerges from the ground, surrounding her like a cloud. The moment the mist fades away, the cloaked hag has disappeared, and in her place stands the mighty Sorceress, Queen Rosalyne.

Her laughter dies down, just as Sir Noah comes out of his hiding. Wringing his hands together, he looks between the fountain that is calming down—the ripples fading as if it hadn’t been disturbed by your entire being—and the smiling Queen who is silently celebrating.

“If I may ask,” Sir Noah speaks gently, afraid of how the Queen will react to his curiosity, “Where have you sent her, Your Majesty?”

A soft chuckle slips out of the Queen’s lips as her smile widens once more. “She is now off to the alter-world. To a place far, far away from here. A place where there are no happily ever afters.”

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | Thank you for reading!

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #k-vanity #bangtanwhq #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader

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thechekhov · 4 months

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Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH45

Slumber party!

Fair, but consider: She deserves a little murder. As a treat.

Kabru be like "IS THAT MY BACKSTORY???"

That sure is....a ship. With no one on it.

Ah, shit the Americans are here.

Two things: Toshiro being tended to like a pretty pretty princess is hilarious.

And also, the fact that they think the elves can kill Falin......... hmmm.... Pressing X to doubt.

............... oh. Laios. 😂

But also like. How was he MEANT to keep it silent? Put a little something in it? I thought since it was a magic bell you could code it to only ring when it's shaken with INTENT?

Fancy ass house.

Also, Namari...........are you hitting that yet? Both of that?

Oh, it's backstory time.

Okay one: that's fucking tragic, it sounds like the Elves are just forcing the dungeons closed with no regard for how the ecosystem compensates and what people suffer by being in close proximity......

And another thing: Kabru. Kabru, isn't that what YOU'RE after? Having all the power?

Why is this so much like that one meme where the girls at the party are looking at you.

It's the same picture.

Kabru that's. That's maybe not the way to go about it. you're going to give them MORE reasons to go in.

Nevermind the governor not being into this 'good boy, now sign' talk, Toshiro's kinda right. Ya fucked up Kabru.

No matter how far Laios runs, he cannot escape other people trying to tell him how to live his life. Poor guy. But at the same time...

Is this real? Or a red herring?

Laios' father and mother seemed to be living relatively pious lives. They clearly had a good house, but it didn't seem like they were extremely rich. Then again, perhaps he's just a cousin of royalty? Is that why his parents wanted him to have children?

They want to.... halt the growth of the dungeon? Is this another part of the natural ecosystem of things? Dungeons growing seems to point even more towards the idea that it's a gigantic, fleshpit-like creature instead of simply a construct.

Then again, constructs CAN be creatures. Like the golems.

Elves not understanding how old humans are continues to be hilarious because like.

As humans, we HAVE this same concept of variant aging. Like. Dogs. We understand that dogs live less than us, and mature a lot slower. But this is.... COMMON KNOWLEDGE. Most people do not make it into adulthood without understanding that dogs mature within 1-2 years of their birth.

The fact that elves, a species with FAR more time on their hands, who have lived alongside other races for AGES....... have STILL not got the general concept of aging down....means their education is atrocious. Or they're all not paying attention.

.......this. THIS is the most fascinating concept in this chapter.

The fallen.... turned into MONSTERS.

We know that dying inside the dungeon doesn't mean permanent death. But dying above-ground does.

We know that dying in the dungeon doesn't mean your body turns into a monster (aside from ghosts and ghouls?) ..... but dying aboveground.... DOES......?

WHAT'S THE TRUTH.

👁👁

Hm.

If Kabru and Laios fused, they could almost make one functioning human being.

Senshi just beginning to speak in the middle of his own internal monologue is so real.

...... what's going on there with the expression, buddy?

Bread.......are they STILL carrying around flour with them?! How are they getting bread?!

Also, it's awesome that the eggs are canonically hard to crack, because it makes sense that they don't break during their many fighting events.

Izutsumi really said ◉_◉

Don't tell me Laios, who is sensitive to ghosts has ALSO been seeing things?

Not gonna lie, that's highkey terrifying.

Props to that ghost that's been following Laios around, not ever giving up hope that it can bother him into acknowledging it.

And also - hey, it already saved them once! that means it's probably not evil!

That, or it's the king of the bloody dungeon. Wouldn't that be something!

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi quick reacts #dungeon meshi liveblog #chekhov reads dungeon meshi

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punkpandapatrixk · 18 days

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Full Pink Moon in Scorpio ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

Hey, was your Full Pink Moon in Scorpio great on the 24th/25th of April? It took me a couple of days to realise there was an active shedding and releasing of A FUCKTON of black magick and karmic debris from the collective of people tuned into this PAC. That shedding and releasing was by Divine Mandate, so that’s good to know hahah

After the Full Moon, have you been feeling lighter now? Brighter in the mind? Clearer about your purpose, maybe? More motivated to take the next step? Kinda ironic because Scorpio is the darkest sign of all. But hey, seeds need to break in the dark for them to grow into plants, trees, fruits and flowers, right?

This Full Pink Moon in Scorpio is really associated with rebirth, plant magick and wishing for a victorious blooming of our desires. Scorpio is also a sign associated with the underworld, death and ancestors. Did you know people born with significant Scorpio influences in their birth chart were often born shortly after some death had occurred within the family/bloodline?

Since the Full Pink Moon has passed, have you been feeling the call of your ancestors? You’ve got a huge family of great and wise ancestors you’ve never even met in this incarnation watching over your spiritual development. Each of them loves you and honour all the spiritual work you’ve done in this incarnation. The ripples of your lightwork go beyond what you can comprehend at this moment.

Listen carefully with your pretty heart~ Your ancestors and Spirit Guides are currently very active in guiding you towards your most exciting chapter yet! Stomp forward confidently, babes~!

[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Let’s Go Far Away! Far From All the Dra-mama-mama~

s h e d d i n g – Queen of Pentacles Rx

You are not taking anybody else’s karma as yours anymore. You’re done. Fucking done with spiritually taking care of everybody who isn’t even aware of their bullshit karmic load. And on top of that, you’ve been known that these fuckers ain’t ever gonna be grateful anyway. So, why should you bother? You learnt the hard way, didn’t you? Now you’ve truly become a spiritual boss bitch. You ain’t vibing with Love and Light anymore—not like that, at least. You understand now that the whole ‘love and light’ consciousness has been weaponised to neutralise the power of those who can defeat EVIL consciousness.

Now, you understand people are fully responsible for their own healing; for how they react to what’s happening around them and for their own choices. Even their points of view are theirs. You’re not participating in anybody else’s drama anymore. No amount of empathy will ever make you stupid again. That was your decision quite a long time ago and now that resolve has become SOLIDIFIED. Welcome back, spiritual gangster. You’re YOU again~ Now, we watch you quantum jump into your greatest abundance Reality yet!

t r a n s f o r m i n g – 9 of Pentacles Rx

I feel like you’ve been in isolation of sort for quite a while, right? Or at least, there’s a clear indication that you’ve not been in communication with too many people. Your ancestors gave you that push to be alone and to clear your aenergetic field from a lifetime’s worth of bullshit you’d absorbed from other people. During this time, you were shielded from further psychological attacks from your environment. But at the same time, you were also being given clear guidance about your next steps.

Your visions and daydreams are not random, so this Full Pink Moon is giving you more reasons to believe all of your gut feelings about your place in the world—about what you’re put on Earth to pursue and manifest. When you’re excited, make sure you share your good news with ONLY those you feel are vibrationally safe to share with. People you know won’t have any business being envious of your progress. Otherwise, keep moving on in silence, dear ghost~ You’re about to become reborn into real riches!

g l o w u p, BITCH – 6 of Wands Rx

The whole aenergy of this Pile is abundance and material riches. I’m being told, you’re building a massive Empire that’s based on real spirituality. An empire that will serve a great number of people and how that contributes to not only your material security but also to the prosperity of all involved with your projects/spiritual work in the future. With that said, your success is needed by the world! You’d better believe there’s no force on Earth strong enough to mess this up.

Your ancestors, in fact, have been setting you up for this success for literally aeons. Even from the aethers they’re still very much actively making this happen. It’s a family project, babe~ You’ve got important codes stored in your DNA—you bloodline is special. One way or another this will continue to get revealed to you through various means your ancestors can think of ;P Your physical beauty, physical prosperity, physical safety and everything is quantum jumping into a much higher octave of Reality.

You’ve set up the foundation well. You’ve sacrificed a lot with so little guidance. Congrats again, welcome Home to 5D Consciosuness~!

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Hello? Ordering From Future Express~

s h e d d i n g – Page of Pentacles

You’ve been in the process of learning (or preparing) for a big change in your Life. This Full Pink Moon, if anything, is just indicating that you’re ready to mingle in the higher level of whatever you’re graduating from. Rather than becoming a student, you’re becoming an actual employee, worker, or expert at this thing you’ve been studying/preparing for. You have a lot of knowledge that’s ready to be shared by those who can benefit from your work. So, congrats~!

Of all the Piles, I sense your journey thus far has been pretty much lighthearted. It isn’t to say some traumatic things haven’t happened, but no matter your age, you’re such a wise optimist. You’re the type that can always say, ‘Oh well, I did learn and gain valuable lessons from it.’ You have an awareness of your surrounding and the events that visit your everyday Life, so you’re not often bothered to the degree some of the other Piles are XD

t r a n s f o r m i n g – Knight of Cups Rx

I sense that many of you reading this have been in the active process of manifesting a new kind of Reality. You’ve daydreamed and fantasised a lot—too much, sometimes LOL But I’m getting that your heart is literally constantly pulled in that direction because you’re literally that close to manifesting this Reality. Of course, when we say ‘close’, some of you may wonder how that’s even possible because you don’t feel like you’ve done a lot.

But I’m being told that your manifestation is heavily ‘water based’, meaning it is highly based on the emotions produced during your daydreaming~ As long as you maintain the feeling, the optimism, the feel-good vibes from those daydreams, you’re GUARANTEED to get every single thing you’ve envisioned for yourself. I betcha you have significant Water sign placements or planets in Water Houses in your natal chart :D

g l o w u p, BITCH – 5 of Cups

I know that recently you feel like you’ve lost something important. Although you’re positive and optimistic, it’s only natural that people can still dwell in the negative emotions caused by the shock of any kind of loss. You can take your time. But also know that this Full Pink Moon is promising you a way to rebuild or rediscover in another form what you’ve lost. What’s been lost or broken will be renewed and you will be a lot happier.

By this, the general message is that you have so much good fortune and success in the future. It’s almost like, your daydreams have been ordered from the future express and delivered to your doorstep as feel-good thought-forms. For now, they may be only thought-forms, but you’re being directed to the right place, so don’t lose sight of those visions, OK? For the most part, I think most of you already know this—you just needed some kind of a validation ^o^v

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Calm in the World, Lucky Girl~

s h e d d i n g – 7 of Swords

Ooohhh my lucky guuurl~ You’re the lucky Pile, but actually, you’ve worked really hard to increase your luck quotient in this world! Of all the Piles, you’ve transmuted a lot of karmic bullshit in your bloodline—things like toxic mindsets which were passed down by your elders. I think you’ve worked the hardest to transform yourself whilst carrying generational bullshit which you vowed would stop with you, because you wouldn’t want these mindsets or ways of living to be passed down to the next generations.

And in your case, I get that you’re not just thinking about your own bloodline; you’re also thinking about stopping these toxic ways of living and being for all people belonging to your generation and the next. You’re thinking global—you’re thinking cosmic. This Pile is definitely for those of you who identify as being a witch or a mystic or something similar in nature. You are now shedding ugliness. All the ugliness in the ways you were brought up.

t r a n s f o r m i n g – 9 of Cups

No matter when you come across this reading, within just a couple months your abundance level is going to visibly get better. This sense of abundance is going to be real—not just a mindset thing—it’s going to be physical. You’ve been working so hard for so long on the mental and spiritual level, and in many cases, you might’ve felt like your spiritual work hasn’t produced anything tangible at all. And this could’ve often dimmed your light and made you cry, because it felt like your struggles were never going to end.

You were going in circles, but babe, you were always spiralling up out of that hell that was created for you. I think you just didn’t realise that. The path was never straight; it was a spiral in which you were spiralling and meeting old wounds and healing them, but the whole time, you were spiralling UP! Okay? The exit is close. Dang, many of you tuning into this are already out! The real physical abundance is following along tightly. Look forward to this year’s Lion’s Gate, Wise Ones~! You’ll be surprised! <3

g l o w u p, BITCH – 10 of Wands

In the deck I’m using, 10 of Wands depicts an array of soldiers who’ve just finished warring. They’re back home now, exhausted, traumatised, needing a lot of care and ease after a long battle, and are probably still in a war mindset after being in it for quite some time, right? But the important thing is that they’re home; that the war is OVER. It is OVER. It’s peacetime now. You’ve just got to celebrate all you’ve done for your country (yourself) and relish in a good bowl of soup to soothe your aching heart.

Recuperation and relaxation are crucial for you right now. You need all the TLC you could give to yourself, so in that sense, if there’s somebody who could be of some assistance to you, don’t hesitate to ask for help so your Life can be a little easier. For the time being, you need to be taken care of. Sooner than later, you will be jumping into a different kind of an exciting bandwagon straight to your Destiny~ Then, you can help others~!

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

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whispereons · 10 months

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Oracle!Reader Part 10

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 9, Part 11

This chapter has sensitive topics! This time it's less on the religious side and more on the general awful shit that happens. It's specifically about a child (and adults) so you are warned!

Sunlight streams through the flap in the tent waking you up. Crawling out of the tent a gift laid in front sparkling for your attention.

A rough and raw cut Cor Lapis innocently sat where the hatchling used to be. Fingertips gently caressed the object before you stashed it away. Another item to be sold if you came upon hard times.

After packing up everything and eating a light breakfast you began the trek to Liyue. Activating and using that teleport waypoint would be so much easier but the suspicion you would get from it was just not worth it.

Farmers, hikers, and the occasional adventurer passed by as you hiked and eventually got to the Guild. Katheryne spots you and smiles.

"Ad astra abyssosque! Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild. Ready to start your first set of commissions Y/N?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." You mutter as you take the paper from her hands. Moving to the side, more adventurers are welcomed and assigned commissions. Fingers crossed for easy commissions, you scanned the list and the corresponding map.

Straight to the Heart - Qingxin must be freshly picked to be made into effective medicine. Pick it off the mountain and get it to the caretaker within the time limit. Enemies may be in the area.

Full Speed Ahead - The path is needed for a transportation vehicle moving people. Make sure the path is clear within the time limit. Defeating enemies may be necessary.

Increasing Danger - Hilichurls are building towers in the circled area. Destroy these towers for the safety of the people.

That last one would be hard, you weren't comfortable at the thought of hurting the cursed people of Khaenri'ah as well as the other civilizations that Celestia bombed. Your characters were always strong enough to destroy the towers and leave but you aren't.

Perhaps you can lure them to a different area and destroy the towers once they were distracted? Do they count as creatures of Teyvat that could recognize you as the creator? Or is the corruption from Celestia too strong?

Spreading Evil - A abyssal mage is scheming something in the square area. Defeat it and it's hilichurl allies by preventing the completion of the ritual.

Nevermind, this one takes the cake on what you did not want to do. What will you do if the abyssal mage is electro? You're basically useless! Well, maybe not since you can light up a torch and burn it till the shield breaks but still. Your divine aura may be prominent to them and cause them to report back to the Abyssal Prince. You weren't eager to ever meet him.

You go back to Katheryne and show her the commission list.

"Just a question, is the abyssal mage in this a electro one?"

Katheryne opens a separate book and scans it for a second before nodding. "That's correct, it was reported to be a electro abyss mage with four hilichurl allies."

"I'm afraid I can't accept this commission. I can only control electro and the shield can't be broken by simply waiting for it to rain like I can with pyro mages."

Katheryne nods at your words and flips through the book as she speaks. "Understood, the only commissions left at this time are either in a rank above you or too far away. You can wait here or check back in a few days to see if we receive any more commissions."

Would it be worth it to try convincing her that as you have no rank, you can do any commissions? Probably not, arguing with a robot never goes well. Sighing you're about to move away when a man nearly bulldozes you as he tries to get to the counter.

"Please help me! I'll pay whatever I have to if a adventurer can accept my commission!"

Moving to stand at the side you look up at the man and narrow your eyes trying to figure out where you've seen him before. Katheryne takes the panicked state of the man in stride and asks what commission he is trying to request.

"My daughter Yiran was being babysat by a new nanny due to my regular one getting sick, and she was kidnapped! Treasure hoarders stormed the dock area, and the babysitter hid leaving Yiran in the open. I was working at the Blackcliff Forge when the Millelith approached me and told me what happened. The only thing that was retrieved was this."

In his hands is a child sized dirty dark teal shoe. You're only relieved that it isn't bloody. This man is the one who stands near the toy seller with his daughter. Manager Kuan if you remember correctly.

"Please, I'll pay whatever I have to for someone to accept my commission and find my daughter. The Millelith refuse to put more attention on my case due to the increase of monsters. But the more time passes the farther away Yiran gets."

Kuan speaks with urgency as Katheryne shakes her head sadly.

"I'm afraid we don't accept commissions like these. While the guild may rarely accept a lost pet commission, they are usually never completed. To protect our reputation the guild does not accept commissions that we aren't sure can be completed. Only if a adventurer or team personally accept it can we accept it."

This seems to break Kuan even further. Tears of frustration well up in his eyes making him rub them roughly pushing up his glasses. His grief and discouragement is visible on his face as he continues trying to convince Katheryne.

The wind rushing in your ears don't let you hear or make out his next words. The wrinkles in his face seem to deepen and his black hair turns grey. The once short fine hair grows into a shaggy mattered mess of silver. Facial hair grows and tangles together as his clothes are torn into ruin. The once middle-class looking outfit is covered in patches, holes, dirt, and dried blood. It's him.

Dad.

"I'll accept the commission." Your words come out quiet, but he hears them. Turning to you, you see your adoptive father's face flash for a second before it melts away to Kuan's face. The illusion is broken as your father's image is gone with Kuan shakily smiling at you.

"Really? Name your price, I'll pay whatever I have to, to find Yiran."

Closing your eyes in a look of contemplation hides the tears that threatened to build up.

"Let me make it clear. I cannot promise to find Yiran and I will not accept any money unless I manage to find her or her body. I will try my hardest to find her but if after a week, I cannot find her I will have to leave this commission undone. Mostly because she could be in another nation by that point and it would be impossible to find her then."

"I understand, I just want you to try while there is still a chance." Kuan speaks to you with a sad smile. It's uncomfortably too similar to your dad.

Katheryne begins to walk Kuan through the process of drafting a commission and Lan places a hand on your shoulder. The rugged sigh that leaves her as she speaks hint to what she wants to speak to you about.

"Y/N was it? Come and speak with me for a second." Silently you follow her around the building, a safe distance from Kuan.

"You may have talked big game while the funeral director was here but you're a beginner adventurer. Do you understand what kind of commission you just accepted? If you somehow manage to find Yiran, it won't be a little girl. It'll be a gruesome corpse."

"At least that way I can bring something back to bury. Something to remember his daughter by." You say with a sense of longing. Memories of you sobbing over the lack of items to remember your father by rise to the surface.

"Even still, you should have left this to the Millelith. It may be hard not to accept it but you'll regret it when you cannot find anything and come back empty handed. You gave him hope when it's better to just give up-"

Firmly you place your hands on her shoulders. Your grip turns bruising as you force her body closer to yours. Lan's brown bob brushes against your face as you whisper in her ears.

"How hypocritical of you Lan. Don't you realize? You take on any commission containing the word 'sword', no matter the difficulty, to give your brother a proper funeral. That man, that father, is willing to put up with the emotional pain of hope to make the best of his chance at finding his daughter before it really is too late. And I will do what I want, for who I want, for anyone that reminds me of my own motivation. If I have to come back to him and hand him his daughter beaten, bruised, bloody body, then I will."

You push yourself away from Lan as she steps back with fear in her eyes. Her expression changes into a mixture of fright and wariness. There's no doubt that she's wondering how you knew about her mission about her brother. And despite the consequences that can come from this, you can't be bothered to care.

Kuan was not your father but he reminded you so much of him. Your dad that took you in and cared for you how no one else ever bothered to. If helping Kuan gives you the same feeling as when you would help your dad, then you'll gladly do it.

Turning back you turn the corner and Kuan is already smiling tiredly at you. The ache in your heart grows as the swell of happiness refuses to stop.

"Again, thank you so much for accepting. The commission I filled out has all the information I got from the Millelith, it's very little I'm afraid. They are taking this very lightly." There's a bite to his words this time.

"It's okay, I'll make do with the information you gave in. I should get going now to make the most of the time. You can expect to hear from me by the end of the week."

Taking the commission from Katheryne titled 'Missing Treasure' Kuan gives a wave as you begin walking to the city's main entrance. Not wasting time, you start flipping the pages and skimming the pages.

Yiran, a few children, teens, and two adults were taken around the same time. The adults were homeless while the children and teens were either poor or orphans. It seems the treasure hoarders did their homework on their victims.

Kidnapping these vulnerable minorities is a commen tatic in human trafficking. Orphans have no one that would look for them and the government could care less about the homeless. Liyue is such a bustling and thriving market that these kinds of people are pushed out and ignored.

You've lived through that on Earth, you intentionally avoided the rich areas due to this reason. Living here as a homeless orphan would be even worse. People look past you like you don't exist while those that do acknowledge your existence tend to behave violently. The government doesn't fix the problem due the fear of homelessness fueling people to work even when it's not good for them.

Yiran was probably a mistake. Either they were targeting the babysitter, mistoke her for a different victim, or saw her as a lucky grab. If Yiran wasn't kidnapped, the Milelith would have done even less. You shouldn't have expected Liyue to be any better than other rich cities on Earth.

The walk past the glamorous streets feels almost taunting. The guards that doze off and leisurely chat make your blood boil. Scolding them now would do no one any good. It would only eat up the time you need to find Yiran's body. Your thoughts were better off solving this case.

Making a detour you go to the scene of the crime, the docks. It's damp, with little security and it's mostly children and the poor. Makes sense as the main docks are simalir to a tourist area, no one wants trash around.

The majority of the ships are gone meaning no sailors are around. The timing was perfect. For once the treasure hoarders pulled off a good plan. Did the traveler only meet the stupid bunch or were the smart hoarders avoid the traveler intentionally?

Either way you followed the rough path the hoarders took until they left the city entrance. A cart must have been driven due to the amount of people to carry and restrain is too much for a group. This helps you narrow it down that they had to follow the path shown on the map. Liyue's terrarin is filled with mountains and rocks that make it nearly impossible to go off track.

You cross the wooden bridge, pass the small pond, climb the stairs and begin trekking through the path. There's a teleport waypoint that makes you sigh in relief. You really didn't want to have to walk the whole way back, plus it's a quiet enough area that you don't have to worry about witnesses.

Climbing up the boulder, you touch the waypoint and begin climbing back down. You weren't eager to use your wind glider just yet. The hike is pleasant but you keep your eyes peeled for anything that can serve as a clue.

Eventually, you get to a small village-like area, it's nearly abandoned judging by the lack of, well, anyone. You do freeze at the sight of Morax's Statue of the Seven.

The only question that runs through your mind is should you touch it?

On one hand you would get the geo element and just more power in general. On the other hand that would basically summon Zhongli to your area and you weren't ready for round 2 with a Archon.

The conclusion you arrive at is that you'll wait till you're injuried to touch it. At least that way you can test if you're able to be healed by it.

Making sure to keep a safe distance from the statue to avoid triggering it, you're about to continue your journey when you notice something. A book on a flat rock with the title 'Tracking and Hunting - a guide for the new and experienced'.

Was this not the book you were trying to find yesterday? What luck, you could use this to track the treasure hoarders with more effiency! Grabbing it you flip to the first page but are startled by a yell.

"Hey! Apologies for the intrusion but that book is mine for the time being."

Xingqiu and Chongyun run up to you as you hold the book to your chest. The pale blue exorcist is too busy calming himself down from the jog to pay much attention to Xingqiu reaching for the book with a polite smile.

How fake.

"Is it really? I simply saw this book laying on this rock, all abandoned. If you can't respect a book then you definitely shouldn't have checked it out."

Xingqiu grits his teeth and his polite smile strains in his effort to keep his annoyance in check. "Thank you for the advise, I'll be sure to keep better track of my belongings."

It seems Xingqiu is putting up his act due to his reputation as the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. You need him to break character so that you can recruit him to help you find Yiran. He's all about justice and chivalry after all.

"I'll be happy to return this book if you- wait what the hell is that?" Your tone goes from mocking to confusion as Xingqiu steps closer letting you view him. The change in your tone brings Xingqiu and Chongyuns attention to you.

You stare at Xingqiu's hair with increadibility that slowly morphs into laughter. Your laughter grows as Xingqiu inquires what you're laughing so hard about.

"What the hell is that haircut? It's more uneven than mountains, with more layers than an onion with some strands poking up like a porcupine. If you paid someone for this haircut then get your money back!"

You hold the book to your stomach as you double over in hysterics. Chongyun keeps a palm over his mouth as he struggles to contain his chuckles. Xingqiu's calm facade seems to crack with each ring of your laughter and your next words seem to break him.

"I don't know how much self-confidence you have to have, to go around with that hair, but I need some! Oh god, what are those bangs?!"

Chongyun turns away as he trembles with laughter that slips through his fingers. Xingqiu crosses his arms in annoyance as he begins his own tirade.

"What kind of person are you? Who begins to mock the person they are basically stealing from? Do you have no chivalry?! What gives you the confidence to give someone else shit for their style when you can't even choose one?! A Liyue style glider with Inazuma style clothing is terrible combination, only able to be worn by a simpleton like you!"

He pants harshly while pointing at you as the laughter dies down. Chongyun looks at his friend in some shock and seems to struggle in whether to intervine or not. You stand up with a smug grin and lean closer to the Guhua swordsman.

"Still not as bad as the bowlcut you're sporting."

Xingqiu groans loudly at your words and lays his palm open. "Let's just stop this stupid conversation. Return my book now."

"Like I said, I need it so either help me out or let me keep it."

"Return my book or else." Xingqiu's hands clench tightly and Chongyun places a hand on his shoulder. He ignores it.

"I'm not returning it unless you make a choice between the options I presented."

A sacrifical sword is quickly pointed at your neck as Xingqiu stares at you.

"Give it back or you'll know my sword." The familair line makes you smile happily as you place the book on his outstretched hand. "Sure!"

"It's just a shame that I'll have less resources to track down those treasure hoarders. I hope I can find them in time..." You speak outloud as you pass them making Chongyun glance back at you. Xingqiu is still gripping his sword without looking at you.

"Wait, please! Can you explain why you are tracking down the treasure hoarders?" Chongyun finally takes the initiative and calls out to you.

Smiling pleasantly you turn to Chongyun and speak while being well aware of Xingqiu resisting the urge to look at you.

"I'd be happy to. Last night treasure hoarders swept through the lower level docks in Liyue and kidnapped some people. That includes my commissioners daughter, Yiran. The cart they are driving must be following this path but I know it'll split at some point. That's why I wanted the book to help me track the hoarders down."

Chongyun's face returns to his usual frosty look. "I understand why you were in such dire need of the book. I would like to help you. My name is Chongyun and I'm a exorcist. I track down ghosts and evil spirits so perhaps my experience can help you."

"That would be a great, thank you so much! I'm Y/N and feel free to speak comfortably."

One acolyte joined, now you only need the other. But if Xingqiu is being too stubborn to help you then you're better off leaving him-

Your train of thought is cut off by the book being thrusted into your arms as Xingqiu walks toward the stairs leading further down the path. You and Chongyun send Xinqui a confused look at his sudden actions.

"What are you two doing gawking at me like that? We're wasting time standing around like this."

A huff of laughter leaves you at his words and you motion Chongyun to follow along as you begin to follow Xingqiu.

"Nice to see that his highness is willing to set aside time in his busy reading schedule to help out with this case."

"I'm a purser of chivalry and justice first and foremost. It seems you do know that I'm related to the Feiyun Commerce Guild. You've got guts to treat me in such a unabashed manner."

"What's the Feiyun Commerce Guild? Some small family business? You didn't really expect me to recognize you immediately right? I mean I'm just a traveler who recently arrived."

Xingqiu seems a bit embarrassed at how he psyched himself into revealing himself. The mockingly kind tone you use only enhances it.

"Can you two please stop arguing? The treasure hoarders will hear you both and run away before either of realize at this point."

Chongyun's calm demeanor and words remind you of your original mission. Now that you recruited the useful acolytes, it's best you don't get too distracted.

"Chongyun is right, why don't you tell me your name bowlcut?"

"My name is Xingqiu and I'm the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. A great displeasure to meet you Y/N." He scowls as he speaks but there's no real bite to his words.

"Nice to meet you too bowlcut. While I read the important sections on your book, why don't I hand you the notes from the original comission? Are you intrested in reading it too Chongyun?"

"No, my main focus is on exorcisim. I'll just keep watch of you both while you read and walk."

Nodding you hand the notes to the curious Xingqiu and search through the book as Chongyun guides you both down the staircase. The treasure hoarders must have lost time going down this steep staircase without crashing the cart.

Finishing it rather quickly due to your previous knowledge on the subject, you spot two Milileth guards on the right. They might have seen something suspicious! Tapping Chongyun's shoulder you point at the soldiers.

"Let's ask them if they saw anything, a cart being driven must have caught some attention."

He nods and stops Xingqiu from walking off, Xingqiu only waves you both away as he stands in place. Being careful not to touch and trigger Chongyuns yang enegry you walk with him to the guards.

"Hello, we were wondering if you saw any carts passing by from the Harbor. If there was too many then were there any that looked particularly suspicious?"

Only one guard answers you as the second is too busy relaxing at the table. "We do a routine inspection on everyone that passes through. If any of them were suspicous we would have escorted them to the city."

"So who was watching over whenever you escorted a suspicous person/group back to the city?" You ask in slight disbelief.

The guard goes quiet as if contemplating on what to say... You aren't sure whether to laugh or sigh. The second guard is dragged over by the first guard.

"Oh are you both here for a face reading? The blue one has some striking eyes which indicates a strong spirit but the other one is a bit harder. That mask makes it difficult but I can tell that you have a, what's the nice way to say it? A rather plain but ordinary face, you can think of it as good thing if you think about how easy it is to change it to something more interesting."

Your expression drops in unison with Chongyuns at his words. You had a feeling Liyue's guards weren't the best but this was even more pathetic than you thought. It's clear this guy was slacking off during his whole shift.

"We don't want a face reading so don't expect us to pay for your crappy words. We just wanted to know if you saw any suspicous carts passing by."

"Oh well I kind of left for some tea at the Emerald Maple Inn on the left. A older lady passed by me and stayed by the roadside during that time so I suppose you're better off asking her."

Chongyun presses a palm to his face at the second-hand embarrassment. The only thing that's stopping you from slugging this incompetent soldier is Yiran and the fact it's a nice sunny day.

"Thanks for the doing less then the bare minimum. We'll be on our way now." You say in a polite voice and push Chongyun back to Xinqui while ignoring the offended man.

"That was so embarrassing. A traveler like you who is new to Liyue should not have had to see such a... lazy soldier." He puts the truth very kindly before holding a hand to his head as he steadies his breathing.

You get back to Xingqiu and explain what happened. He managed to look even more disappointed than Chongyun and the three of you climb the left hill to the Inn. Xingqiu had already finished reading and you swapped the reading material to their original owners.

Tables are set up outside the Inn and one of them has a elderly lady drinking tea at one of them. Walking up to her, you smile kindly as the guys hang back to question the owner of the Inn.

"Hello ma'am, around last night or early this morning, did you go down by the road? If so did you notice a strange cart passing by?"

"In fact I did, I told one of the guards when he came back but he didn't take it very seriously... Well a few people were driving a cart loudly talking about meeting a group at the fork in Guili Plains. I'm afraid that's all I know."

...Was the book even necessary now? What kind of cliche convient villain move is speaking about your evil plans out-loud? There goes all the compliments you gave them for making smart choices. But they did choose the one time when no guards were present. Does that cancel out their stupidity or show just how lucky they are?

"Thank you so much for the information. I'll get going now and use it wisely." The old woman nods at your polite dismissal and rejoin the disastified duo who brighten up at the information you obtained. Until a young boy comes out from the Inn asking.

"Is that the cough adventurer with the medicine? cough"

That sounded familiar, too familiar to be a coincidence. The old woman attends to the boy's coughing fit as you look through your handbook.

Straight to the Heart - Qingxin must be freshly picked to be made into effective medicine. Pick it off the mountain and get it to the caretaker within the time limit. Enemies may be in the area.

Yup, the area where the comission takes place is your exact location. This was your commission to deal with.

Turning back to Xingqiu and Chongyun who are patiently waiting for you, you explain the situation. They agree to seperate from you and continue the path to Guili Plains while you finish the commission. Promising to catch up with them soon you wave and Xingqiu shoots you one last remark.

"Oh and be careful when climbing! Geovishap hatchlings have a tendency to push off unlucky climbers!"

...He was joking right?

With a mental note to get him back for that, you turn back to the old woman and show her the commission paper.

"Hello again, before I leave to continue my journey I would like to get that pesky qingxin for you first."

She smiles relieved and brings you near the back of the Inn. Pointing upward to a mountain that was more of a rocky hill, she tells you of a qingxin that grows there.

After she leaves to prepare the rest of medicine, you begin climbing. Your climbing skills are rusty so you slide down at the worst times but you manage to pick up on your old skills relatively quickly.

So focused on climbing, the wind brushing against your cheek goes unnoticed until a leaf hits you. Moving it away leads you to looking at the gorgous scenary of Liyue.

The clear water of Luhua Pool. The mountains dotted with trees and grass. And even the areas with ruins make for a picturesque view. In the distance you can see the Wangshu Inn. You really hope Xiao never catches wind of you or else you'll constantly be monitored.

Finally arriving at the top, you sit down and rest your body. You aren't aching but you weren't about to pick the flower and jump off. Planning was still needed to avoid a broken bone.

Should you use the wind glider or speed climb down this hunk of rock?

The wind seems to pick up as the pebbles are thrown off the rock you're on. That was not a good sign for a beginner like you. Seems speed climbing it is!

Mapping out a route that would have you alternating between sliding and climbing you double checked it before standing up. The moment you pick the qingxin from it's place that you remember that the time limit for this comission is 30 seconds unless you defeat an enemy.

Scrambling you hurry down while mentally counting down the seconds. That's probably why you didn't notice the geo slime that you kicked off the mountain in your rush.

It's only after handing the qingxin just in time to the old woman that you notice how squishy your boot is.

You end up leaving back to the path with a bag of rewards from completing the commission and some slime concentrate in your bag. There's a clear crunch of the leaves as you walk the path quickly in hopes of catching up to the duo.

You pass by the wilderness and animals as you keep jogging. There's a small stone bridge and you spot the different shades of blue hair moving rather quickly. Getting closer you see the new third indivual.

A black figure with glowing red undertones dives between the sword and claymore clashing against the sacrifical knife. The pyro delusions and maroon mask makes it clear that the fatui agent isn't going to relent easily.

Summoning your sickle, you run into the fray as the agent dissapears leaving a red silloutte behind.

"I didn't arrive too late right?" Xingqiu blocks a strike and Chongyun uses his skill to apply cryo to the area.

"Right on time actually. Quite suprising for someone like you." Superconduct heightens your damage as your sickle slices the agent's arm with electro.

"Ha ha. On the other hand when is your other earing arriving? I believe it's long overdue." Xingqiu's raincutter is summoned making reactions fly around.

Frozen, superconduct, electro-charged, and some shatters keep the agent from barely moving.

"For the last time, will you both stop fighting and focus fully on the fight?" Chongyun's cold clear voice seems to momentarily redirect your attention to the fight. It's only now that you can actually look at the state of the Fatui agent.

A mask half frozen with chunks of it biting into his skin, the blood stains the ice red and the eye's flicker. His arm and legs seem to jerk at random times, most likely from the electro-charged reaction still running in his system. With multiple slash marks and grave wounds that breeched his suit into his skin. It's the hand barely hanging to his wrist that bleeds the most.

This was less of a fight and more of one sided beat down. Compared to when you and Heizou fought those Fatui skirmishers this was a breeze. Made sense but it still felt nice to see some progress in your own strength.

The bone is visble as the blood continues to spurt out of the wound as the agent staggers. None of you move as he sways before falling backword onto a huge chunk of leftover ice. It stabs his stomach letting you see the now pink tip of the ice that went through him.

The force also wretched the hand off his wrist making it land with a sickening splat. Lucky as always, it lands at your feet. Blood drips down from your sickle onto the decapitated hand making you sheathe it back into nothingness.

Looking back to the freeze team, their clothes have much more blood but they ignore it and walk past the body. With them as your guidance, you follow them and grip the agent's sacrificial knife in your hand before quickly stuffing it into your bag.

"So how did that fight even begin? I never saw any mention of the Fatui being involved with the kidnapping."

The way you easily move on to a conversation is comical. You had just committed a joint murder with a duo that you met a mere hour ago and yet you don't feel distraught. Not like the first time you killed in Teyvat. It seems you're starting to adapt to Teyvat's laws. Would you ever fully adapt to it's religious beliefs about the 'creator'?

"The agent jumped at us yelling something about paying back a debt due. But judging how suprised he was when he saw us, he must have believed we were someone else." Chongyun explains thoughtfully.

Xingqiu presses a hand over his mouth seeming to ponder something.

"Do you think the Fatui agent met with the treasure hoarders at the fork? Since the hoarders cart were the only suspicious people going through, it would make sense that they would be meeting the Fatui."

"Then if you're right, something must have gone wrong at the meetup. Damn I wish he didn't die, we could have questioned him."

Depending on the meetup, chasing after the treasure hoarders would be useless if they gave Yurin and the rest of the captives to the Fatui.

"We would have gone easier on the agent if we knew you could control electro. I don't see any vision on you so how do you control the elements? Are you similair to a cartain golden haired traveler?"

"Let's just say it's an ability I gained after an upgrade. It's not a delusion though so forget that kind of possibility."

Xingqiu shoots you a skeptical look at the nonchalant way you dismissed his questions. Chongyun, ever as guilable nods in understanding before asking his own question.

"Did that upgrade also give you your perfect spirit?"

Being careful not to trip on a abandoned wagon, you glance questionably at Chongyun.

"I have no idea what that means. I've heard of yin and yang energies but I'm not well versed in it."

He places a finger to his chin as he struggles to explain the concept to you.

"A perfect spirit is something of a legend. Everyone has a mix of yang and yin that can changes depending on the day, mood, constiution and other factors. I'm one of the few that has a pure yang spirit that I struggle everyday to control. But your spirit is perfectly balanced and even during the fight it didn't waver. It's not just perfect, it's also similair to a void. It feeds on the surrounding energies and stabilizes them. Usually I would spend half an hour after a battle to calm down but with you here I had no need to."

Was that a perk of being the creator? If so that can be pretty neat but on the other hand it also makes you terribly shady. Under a better circumstance you could use it as proof of you being the creator. It really is a shame.

"When I studied the books in my families library, it said that only the creator could have such a spirit..." Of course you had to be right.

The red scrapes that you earned from the fight seemed to grab the attention of both vision holders. To them, it's proof that you aren't the creator and to you, it's proof that no matter what kind of evidence you gather, your blood will always disprove it.

"All those little things about you don't seem to be adding up Y/N. The electro, the vague backstory, the strange aura that surronds you, the so-called perfect spirit and that mask aren't making you any less questionable."

Xingqiu's voice slips through the cracks created by Chongyun in your identity. The crushing of dirt stops as Chongyun and Xingqiu block your way.

"The creator is not one to be messed with or imitated. Evil spirits and demons are the only ones filthy enough to do so. There's a large chance you've been possessed by one. Allow us to purge you, I can promise that in death you'll be freed."

His prototype archaic claymore is summoned in his hands, he always had a one track mind when it came to exorcisim after all. Xingqiu stays behind but the sacrifial sword in his hands is clearly visible.

The day had been going so well too.

"I think you both are getting ahead of yourselves." The smooth words only make them freeze and glare at you.

"I mean neither of you even gave me a chance to speak! Chongyun do you really belive that the creator is only desecrated by evil spirits and demons? I mean just think of Xinyan's concerts, many of those people were just simply terrible."

His grip on his weapon is firm but he nods his head solemly.

"I'm well aware of that but I earnestly believe that you're possessed. Someone like you who accepted a comission to save a little girl isn't one who I would suspect to be a sacrilegious person."

"And even if you are simply a horrible person that finds enjoyment in mocking the creator in this fashion, I could deal with you instead." Xingqiu leers closer as he expertly twirls his sword.

"Defending chivalry and spreading justice is my passion after all." The kind smile on his face mocks you.

Taking out your weapon would only agrivate the situation and confirm their belief. Instead you bow to them and speak curteously.

"As the situation has degraded this badly, I may as well reintroduce myself truthfully. I'm Y/N, an oracle for the creator. My main purpose is to investigate acolytes and the citizens faith simultaneously. The creators spirit envelops me like this to protect me and help me protect others."

Your words catch them both off-guard. Xingqiu double downs on his stance as Chongyun takes a step back.

"I was ordered to be as vague as possible which makes me very suspicious but I have to be careful in what I say. The perfect spirit sitaution may be new to me but there's a very logical explanation."

"And what may that be? If it's not satisfactory I will purge you as soon as possible seeing as you must be possessed by a demon of unknown caliber."

"Think back to when the creater controlls you, does your yang enegry ever get out of control?"

"Of course not, the creators spirit inhibits us and allows us to access blessings that belong to them."

"Then why can't I, who is constantly connected to the creator access those blessings?"

"Thats-!" Chongyun bits his lip as he looks away clearly conflicted.

"The creator is all powerful! Do you think that their perfect spirit isn't strong enough to completely overpower mine?"

Chongyun loses his grip on his claymore and it's dissapears into the air. He's far too anguished between what he knows is a fact and what his own feelings tell him. Too easy, easy to the point where Xingqiu steps in.

"That's a nice runaround and although I can't comment on this perfect spirit conversation as I have not been allowed to read those books yet. I believe it's your identity as a oracle that is the most questionable."

"I know, a clever and eloquent man like yourself would not be so easily swayed by a charlatan like me."

"Cut the crap and show me whatever proof you have. Or is your hands as empty as your skull?"

Ignoring his words, you send a mental thank you to Ayato and display the fan. It would be useless to use in convincing Chongyun but Xingqiu would know due to his high-standing.

Just as you suspected Xingqiu's eyes widen for a second before he moves closer to examine the fan.

"It's the real deal... This texture is one only used in Inazuma for those close to the Electro Archon." His fingers brush against the fabric of the fan before he pulls away with a softening scowl. "I suppose you weren't lying if you managed to get this fan. The Kamisato Commissioner is said to be a elusive man."

Chongyun looks at the fan and Xingqiu in confusion before sighing and giving up on understanding the conversation.

"If that quells all remaining doubts then lets get going. We wasted a lot of precious time." Quickly you walk past them and smile at the sounds of their footsteps following you.

Putting the fan back into the safety of the bag you remember how thankful you are for meeting Ayato. At least with proving yourself to him, you managed to get such a useful tool. It's only fair to milk it for all it's worth.

The fork comes into view and your breath catches in your throat.

The lush grass was crushed under a mix of debris and blood. Crimson stained and dripped down the stone hedge as pieces of dirty clothing drifted in the area. The huge wreckage of a smashed up transportation vehicle was the main center piece.

Aside from the dead bodies littering the area.

Bodies of treasure hoarders with elemental wounds were the most abundant. A few Fatui skirmishers with makeshift reaction and weapon wounds laid in the clearing. The war-machines were deactivated as the bodies rot inside.

Taking steps forward to the middle of the wreckage, it's a single item that installs fear.

A pink flower pin lays innocently on the ground. The blood and dirt on it seems to glisten with malice as the sun reaches it's peak in the sky.

It's finally out!!! OMG it's been so long since I last posted. Work's been burying me, every weekend is a birthday/event/funeral, plus the fall semester is going to start soon. Not to mention Fontaine is almost here and I didn't even finish a single area of Sumeru. Someone stop time, I need sleep. I hope I gave reasonable explanations for the stories behind the commissions. You know the first commission completed with the Qingxin? If you climb the mountain I described, you will find a Qingxin. I know this chapter may be a bit boring since it focused on the kidnapping but I hope Xingqiu and Chongyun were written well enough. I don't think they have a romantic relationship like many fans describe. Then again, I don't like shipping in general. I gave Xingqiu a similair dynamic to Ayato but there is difference. Ayato is more of a 'pretend to be formal while insulting' meanwhile Xinqui is more juvinele with 'I feel annoyed by your presence and the fact I like it is even worse'. Both are fun but if something else works better with Xingqiu's personality please let me know! Time for me to actually finish exploring the summer event and go to even more activites I don't want to attend T-T. (I'll recheck it when I can on my PC) Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zeniths, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @undecidingfate, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @fluffy-koalala, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling

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mumms-the-word · 2 months

Text

guys

GUYS

you’ll never believe what nonsense I came across while I was brainrot doomscrolling through all the books and notes on the BG3 wiki trying to find stuff I might have missed in act 2

druid self-insert romantic fanfiction about the first battle against Moonrise and Ketheric

fanfic that Halsin read and criticized!!

Okay if you played early access you shouldn’t be surprised because these books existed in EA. I’ve tried to find them in my game post patch 6 but all I can find is volume 3, which is disappointing because I was hoping to find volume 4

But as a treat, if you’re like me and completely didn’t know about this, buckle up and please enjoy the self-insert adventures of a certain “Roa” who totally isn’t Roan Featherway, a druid of Silvanus and colleague(??) of Halsin himself

———

Book Draft - Volume I

The name on the inside of this faded journal suggests it belonged to a 'Roan Featherway', a druid of Silvanus.

[Neatly written chapters fill this journal. A list of what appears to be book publishers in Baldur's Gate are on the first page. The cover has a multitude of titles, all crossed out: 'The Unforeseen Alliance, volume 1', 'Druids and Harpers, a fight for good!', 'The Shadowed Evil: who dares to stand against it?'] Our hero, the [brave? mighty?] druid Roa arrives in the grove. When he received the summons from the Emerald Enclave, he knew something was afoot. Filled with druids and rangers alike, members of the Enclave are scattered across the realm. They fight to preserve the natural order, keep the elemental forces of the world in check, and do battle with those who would upset this delicate balance. They are fierce warriors, though none as fierce as Roa. Built like [an ox? A bear?], he stands head and shoulders above the crowd. The grove is buzzing with activity. Roa spots a beautiful woman with ebony hair flowing past her shoulders, her eyes as blue as a [summer's day? bluebird?]. His smile turns to a frown as he notices the crescent moon and harp pinned to her chest. By Silvanus, what was a Harper doing here?

———

Book Draft - Volume II

Formed from several journals, paper scraps and, in one case, the back of an envelope, this book has been carefully glued together to form the second in a series of romance novels.

[This seems to be the second volume in a series written by an amateur novelist. The title on the cover, 'Love in Shadowed Lands', is crossed out.] The ebony-haired woman notices Roa's gaze and crosses the grove, [winking? smiling?] as she stands by the druid's side. 'I don't usually wear it out in the open,' she says, tapping the brooch on her cloak, a crescent moon and harp pinned to her chest. 'Except for special occasions.' 'What's a Harper doing in a grove of Silvanus?' Roa asks. 'Not just one.' She gestures to a group by the sacred pool. 'We're generally more cloak and dagger,' she continues, 'thwarting tyrants and [guarding? protecting?] the realm is best done in secret. But you lot have a fight on your hands. We're here to help.' 'Since when do the Emerald Enclave need a bunch of Harpers?' Roa says. 'You haven't heard?' She laughs, her laugh tinkling like a bell. 'Strap in, sweetie. We're about to take on Dark Justiciars, their demented leader Ketheric Thorm and, if we're very lucky, Shar herself.'

———

Book Draft - Volume III

The third book in a series of romance novels, this once beautifully bound book has had pages ripped out, glued back in and even tied to the book's spine using a piece of twine.

['Volume Three' is written in bold on the front. The title 'The Cost of Sorrow' is followed by a number of question marks.] 'But why?' Roa screams, the beast within barely contained. 'Why follow Shar? Why destroy Moonhaven?' Ketheric stares down [haughtily? cruelly?] at Roa as he steps over the bodies of Harpers and druids alike. 'Shar knows all.' He smiles [maliciously?]. 'She gave me a holy mission. I'm merely fulfilling it.' 'The people of Moonhaven trusted you!' Roa cries, his anger rising. 'How could you turn your Dark Justiciars on them?' Ketheric smiles, 'They needed the target practice. Can't have Shar's elite getting rusty, now can we? As for you...' a crescent blade appears in his [cruel?] hands. 'You are but one lone druid, Roa. Who are you to stand against me?' Roa forces himself to his feet, Silvanus' fury coursing through him. 'I'm your downfall. Today you die, Ketheric!'

———

And for the pièce de résistance 😮‍💨🤌

Book Draft - Volume IV

The fourth volume and final novel, this book has had almost every single page ripped out, except for the last twenty or so pages.

['Shadow's Kiss' is written in bold on the front. Pages of crossed out lines have notes in the margin reading 'finale!', 'more exciting!'. The final entry reads:] 'Get out of here.' Roa whispers, clutching his side. Blood pours from his fingers, a final gift from Ketheric's blade. 'I'm not leaving you,' Selene sobs, blue eyes filling with tears. Roa cups her face. 'I won't make it out in time. But you can.' Selene presses her forehead against his. Her ebony hair falls forward, forming a curtain that envelops them both. Roa closes his eyes, a smile lifting his lips as her scent, wild roses, washes over him. 'That grappling hook. You still have it?' He asks. 'Of course. Why do you -' With the last of his strength, Roa pushes her from the balcony. He watches her fall, watches her pull the hook from her pack and expertly throw it, swinging gracefully to the ground. A mighty crack splits the floor beneath him as the tower crumbles. He smiles contentedly. Selene was safe. That's all that mattered. Epilogue: 'Selfish bastard.' Selene says, kicking the base of the grave. Balsin places a comforting hand on her shoulder. 'He was the greatest of us all,' Balsin says, a towering behemoth of a druid, although not as tall as Roa. 'We will forever honour him, for he single-handedly broke Shar's hold on the land, and helped -' [A different hand appears beneath the final entry.] Roan, you had one job. This is not a historical record of what occurred, it is poorly written romance with no basis in fact. And if I ever see the name 'Balsin' again, I will personally feed you to Ormn.

Halsin you’re such a critic

we were robbed

#bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 discourse #bg3 screenshots #bg3 lore #bg3 fanfic #I mean that last tag is technically true #also I’m sure Halsin was very upset with roan but like #still funny #halsin #halsin silverbough

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gimmethatagustd · 11 months

Text

what the fire gave us (1) | jjk

You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

🔥 pairing: shadow elemental!jungkook x water elemental!(f)reader

🔥 part of a spring offering collab

🔥 wc/date: 9.7k | june 2023

🔥 warnings: major character death (doesn't occur until part 2 but i'm being nice by warning you now; not jk or reader), minor character death, referenced past murder, smut (doesn't occur until part 2), unrequited love (not between reader & jk), reference to human experimentation (nothing is described in detail), persecution of supernatural people, mentions past war, blood, injuries/violence, they all definitely have ptsd, jungkook is a precious baby boy but he'll also kick your ass, JESSI !!!!!! JESSI STANS RISE UP !! JESSI IS THE COMEDIC RELIEF !!! (at least, i find her funny)

🔥 notes: PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE WARNINGS. there is heavy angst, particularly in part 2. i hope that you enjoy this story, even with its cuts and bruises. think of it as stranger things meets avatar the last airbender 😂

🔥 more notes: i was supposed to finish this fic in may lmfao but y'all should know by now that there's no point in trusting me to do what i'm supposed to do. i'm sorry but i will probably never change 😭 ANYWAY. this fic is gonna be over 20k, so i decided to upload it in two parts in an attempt to maintain my sanity cuz this website is trash about handling long posts. i'm almost done with part 2, so it should be uploaded within a week (i swear to GOD i mean it). also, if you follow me on AO3 you'll see that i'm posting this fic in multiple chapters. that's cuz i like the formatting of AO3 chapters better than tumblr. the formatting fits the story better, too.

🔥 main masterlist / part two

🔥 what was jai listening to? cyberpunk - ateez

moodboard credit: @btscontentenjoyer

3 MONTHS

Lookout duty is hard on you. When it’s your turn to camp out on the roof and watch for potential threats, you complain that staying awake all night is hard. Most of the other runaways are night owls, but you aren’t. You need your beauty sleep, you joke. You can’t get comfortable on the roof, even if there’s a flat landing with pillows and blankets to keep you warm.

These are a few of your excuses, but you can’t bring yourself to tell the others the truth: you are scared.

It’s close to midnight when you hear the creak of the trapdoor opening. The likelihood of it being anyone other than the group of Gifted runaways you live with is low, but you can’t trust that the impossible wouldn’t happen. You’ve seen the impossible happen far too often.

Hopping down from the old milk crate you’d been sitting on, you crouch behind a giant bean bag with your bow and arrow ready. The harness you wear strapped around your torso holds your spare arrows. It digs hard enough into your shoulder that you form blisters if you don’t wear a thick enough shirt.

The fluffy pink hair poking out of the trapdoor makes you sigh in relief.

“Hey, kid,” the pink-haired man whispers.

He gently closes the trapdoor and walks with a hunched back toward you, careful not to expose too much of his body beyond the roof’s railing. The abandoned warehouse you live in is on the city's outskirts, with nothing for miles but empty concrete parking lots and overgrown plots of land.

Still, you never know who might be out there. Although the Red Pins have only inflicted pain from within their research facilities, all the runaway Gifteds know that the government employs more than one type of evil to hunt them down.

You try not to think about them, those scientists in long white coats that fall to their thighs and blood-red nametags pinned to their labels with names you often see painted on the walls of your nightmares. Lately, the frequency of the nightmares has lessened. It doesn’t feel like it, though, when you often wake in the middle of the night to your friends screaming in their sleep while they suffer through their own trauma. You wish the knowledge that the pain of being government lab rats is something you all share could be comforting. But, instead, it only makes you hurt more.

“Yoongi,” you huff, returning to your perch on the milk crate. Now your hands are all sweaty. “You should be sleeping.”

“Hi, Yoongi; nice to see you too! Thanks for coming to hang out with me!” Yoongi mocks your voice, clearly stating what he thinks you should have said. “Oh, no problem, Y/N. I just wanted to see how you were doing and hang out with my favorite kiddo.”

You scrunch your nose at kiddo.

“I’m not a kid.”

Yoongi leans over to rub his knuckles into your head. “Nah, you definitely are.”

Despite the lack of lighting outside, Yoongi practically glows. That’s always how it is with fire elementals. It’s like they absorb all the light and let it buzz inside them. Like fireflies, you’d once told Yoongi. He hadn’t found it cute to be compared to a bug.

“If I’m a firefly, then you’re a fucking fish,” he’d teased. You’d promptly summoned water from a nearby puddle to throw in his face.

For as long as you can remember, that’s how it has been between the two of you: fire and water. A push and pull. So different that you need each other to be whole.

You watch Yoongi get comfortable in the bean bag, his skinny limbs spreading like a starfish and his eyes lifting to the sky. In quiet moments like this, you would give anything to hold him. And not out of fear like you had when the scary men came to take you away from your parents. And not out of anger like you had to when you stopped him from blowing up the research facility they’d held you in.

No, you want to hold him and for it to be gentle, soft, and peaceful.

Like now, when the world is silent except for the crickets calling to each other in the weeds and the rustle of wind in the trees.

But he thinks you’re just a kid.

You’re not that much younger than him. But, if you put in the effort to look at your relationship objectively, you’d see that Yoongi’s paternal nature comes out with you and the other runaway Gifteds. He cares for you as an older brother would.

It’s not enough for you, though. It will never be enough.

“Is everyone else asleep?” You rest your elbows on your knees and hold your chin in your hand. When you speak, you look out at the empty field.

“Hobi sneezed and blasted a hole through the bathroom wall,” Yoongi says with a low chuckle. “So me and Joon found some supplies to patch it up the best we could. I think they’re all asleep now, though.”

“How is it Hobi’s the one breaking shit and Namjoon’s fixing it?” You press your hand against your mouth to muffle the ugly snort bursting from you. There’s very little to find funny in this life, so you cherish how your chest burns with fond warmth.

“The world’s all backwards.” Yoongi’s gummy smile lights up the night and tears into your heart.

The two of you fall silent once again. Moving slowly, you reach out to hook your pinky finger with Yoongi’s, a small smile forming when you feel his pinky wrap tightly around yours.

“Where are we gonna go, Yoong?”

He watches you with eyes heavy with sleep, determined to stay up with you even though he doesn’t need to. Initially, you thought it was because he wanted to keep you company. Now, you often wonder if it’s because Yoongi is afraid to sleep, too. He never speaks about his experience at the Labs; the other runaways have learned the hard way not to ask. Singed eyebrows don’t look good on anyone.

“I don’t know.”

You already knew this would be the answer, but it scares you anyway. Yoongi always knows everything.

Yoongi lets go of your hand to sit up in the bean bag.

“Hey, kid,” he whispers. He gently presses his palm to your jaw, cupping your face. You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch in your throat. “As long as we’re together, you don’t gotta worry about anything, okay?”

You stare at him for a long time, searching the bags under his eyes and the worry lines on his forehead.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

3 MONTHS, 1 WEEK

There’s a stream that cuts through the overgrown fields behind the warehouse. It’s man-made, flowing from a sewer tunnel beneath the cracked parking lot - and likely from somewhere else, perhaps connected to a lake beyond the woods at the property's edge. The separation between industrialization and the natural world of the unknown hurts your heart. You’d never felt longing until you found yourself inside a cage of cinderblock walls and concrete floors.

A rope of water whips across your face, drawing you from your thoughts of the woods. It’s muddy and makes your skin and clothes smell sour.

Though the air is still crisp and bites at the tip of your nose, spring came early this year. It takes minimal effort for Namjoon to draw more water from the soiled stream as it’s not frozen over like it should be. With a flick of his wrist, another rope of water hits you, this time across your chest.

“Aghh!”

“Pay attention.”

You lift your arm in enough time to block his next assault. The liquid rope freezes in the air before shattering into a thousand glimmering pieces, scattering jagged ice across the pale yellow grass.

“I’m tired of this, Grandpa.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the pop culture reference; you’re pleased he understood. Posed to speak, mouth already opening, he barely gets a sound out before another voice bellows across the field.

“WELL, THAT’S TOO DAMN BAD!”

Hoseok isn’t afraid to be loud. He smiles, all teeth and pink tongue, and throws his head back as he cackles. Everywhere he goes, he carries the smell of spring with him - cherry blossoms and morning dew that makes newly-grown pieces of grass stick wet against ankles.

You close your eyes and let spring overpower the sour smell of sewer water Namjoon has thrown at you for the past hour. It lets you forget how your skin aches with welts and bruises.

As Hoseok bounds toward you and Namjoon, a dark tornado spins beside him. When he gets closer, you can see Hoseok occasionally blowing a small gust of air toward the tornado. It appears to be made of smoke, a gradient of grays and blacks.

“Look at this,” your friend announces with a mischievous grin. “Me and JK learned a new trick.”

With a quick snap of Hoseok’s fingers, you and Namjoon watch in patient silence as the tornado begins to slow its speed. Almost gently, the smoke curls tighter and tighter until the darkness turns into a solid mass.

Jungkook stumbles a few times as he attempts to get his footing. His limbs continue to propel his body into a small spin.

Hoseok quickly reaches out to grab the younger man. Secure hands squeeze his shoulders, and then it’s only Jungkook’s head lolling about.

“Cool, right?” Jungkook’s voice is gruff, but his lips curl into a weak smile.

Namjoon lets out a long sigh. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Although Namjoon is right, Jungkook does look like the effort of his little party trick took a toll on his body; you can’t help but match his smile. Especially when his eyes flick toward yours. You told his gaze for half a second before Jungkook quickly looks away. His cheeks flush pink, but you’re sure it’s from the exertion of all that spinning.

“I think it’s really cool,” you praise the two while elbowing Namjoon in the ribs. With a grumble, your sparring partner returns to his previous stance a few feet away.

“We should go again. Just for a little while longer.”

Every muscle in your body feels stiff when you turn away from Hoseok and Jungkook.

“I hurt all over, Joonie.”

“Let her rest!” Hoseok adds to your whining. “All we ever do is practice fighting.”

“Sparring.”

Hoseok waves a dismissive hand at the younger man. “Whatever you want to call it. I find it to be fri-”

You stifle a laugh by pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as Hoseok is tackled to the ground by Jungkook. The two men roll around, all arms and legs, kicking up dead grass and dirt. A lot of howling and teasing laughter rings through the open air.

It isn’t until Jungkook is launched into the sky by a gust of wind you know comes from Hoseok, and lands roughly on his back, that the playful fight ceases. How Jungkook lands knocks all the air out of his chest, but he laughs once his lungs start working again.

“Ridiculous, all of you.” Hoseok brushes grass from his clothes. It’s futile; they’re dirty and ragged anyway. Try as you and Namjoon might to use your Gifts to clean the clothes; water does little when there’s no soap.

“I let you win,” Jungkook teases.

Still, he stands a bit further from Hoseok than he had previously. Not far enough for anyone to notice, aside from you. You notice although you don’t mean to. It’s hard not to when Jungkook keeps stealing glances, only to look away when you try to return his gaze.

“You did not.”

“Did, too.” His insistence makes you giggle.

“And how did that work out for you? Hmm? How does your back feel? I know you landed on that rock.”

“I-It, it doesn’t hurt.” Jungkook glances your way. His cheeks are still pink. “Would take more than that to hurt me.”

“Jungkook is impossible to beat.”

You startle at the gentle voice, spinning on your heels to see Yoongi approaching the group. He’s got a leather satchel strapped across his chest and resting at his hip. It bulges with what you assume are plants and fruits scavenged from the woods.

“Boy Scouts” is what Yoongi offered when you asked how he knew so much about surviving in nature. It was peculiar; nothing about Yoongi seemed like the type. He’s tougher, more steel than wood or earth. A bulletproof shield, you think. Broad and strong.

“Impossible?”

Your question is meant to be a tease, but Yoongi’s face remains stoic. Such a severe look only reveals itself when he assumes his position as your misfit group’s leader. It would be extremely attractive if it didn’t scare you.

“How can you fight shadows?” Yoongi deadpans. He stares into your eyes long enough to make your face feel hot, but you don’t look away.

“I…”

Yoongi hums at your lack of an answer. Suddenly, you feel unbelievably small.

“It’s not impossible,” Jungkook whispers. His head hangs low, long bangs hiding his face. The rest of his hair is tied into a bun at the nape of his neck. “I’m just as beatable as you, hyung.”

Something about Yoongi’s expression softens at the honorific. Formalities died long ago, along with many other traditions that once made Korea what it was. So many things died during the war - tangible and cultural - lives and ways of being. Now, the Republic is something you know your friends no longer recognize. Although it is not your home country, your heart aches for what it once was - something you will never have the privilege to experience because you arrived during the Restoration of the Republic - a fallacy of an era since the country was never restored to how it was.

That may be best. It is easier to mourn the loss of something you never knew.

In moments like this, you feel terribly inadequate - when you speak with broken Korean or struggle to understand the foreign politics behind why Gifteds are hunted, no matter how many times Namjoon patiently attempts to teach you. All you know is that, at least here, to be Gifted is not a death sentence, per se. Other countries’ governments have been far less lenient with their mutant population.

You’re simply seen as a science experiment to be tested on, poked and prodded, pushed until you’re driven mad, and then warped into whatever shape the government has the need for.

“You have no match,” Yoongi smiles softly at Jungkook with a shake of his head. “I do.”

Holding out his hand, a small flame appears in the center of Yoongi’s palm. It floats just above the skin, though he isn’t burned. You’ve seen Yoongi summon fire a million times from the heat of the air around him, and he never ceases to amaze you.

With a nod in Namjoon’s direction, Yoongi waits for a small rope of dirty water to splash against his hand. Namjoon is much kinder in his attack against Yoongi, only summoning enough water to extinguish the flame.

“Water will always win against me,” Yoongi admits. This time, he holds your gaze when he speaks. “It is my match.”

You feel something stir in your belly that migrates up your chest until it eventually threatens to suffocate you, nearly getting lodged in your throat.

“You would do well to continue sparring with Namjoon,” he says after a moment before turning to Hoseok and Jungkook, who have otherwise been silent.

It’s an order, even if Yoongi is gentle with his words.

With a sigh, you turn back to Namjoon. It’s difficult to stamp down the heat Yoongi always manages to trigger inside of you. You would compare him to fire even if it didn’t already run in his veins.

Drawing from the murky stream, you weave a ball of water between your palms.

“Let’s go again.”

While you spar with Namjoon, Yoongi leads Hoseok and Jungkook to the other end of the field.

You and Namjoon spar as though you are dancing. It’s a push and pull, your rhythms falling into harmony, even when one of you performs a surprise attack or a new move that hasn’t been practiced before. Perhaps it is because you both fight with water. There is a fluidity to it that the others don’t possess.

Occasionally, your eyes stray to where Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jungkook have begun to spar. The three men do not dance. Instead, they are a fury of elements intertwining in chaos. The wind snuffs fire, Yoongi and Hoseok blasting each other incessantly. Shadows allow Jungkook to disappear before being hit by an attack, only to reappear right behind his opponent to go in for the kill.

And it would be a kill if this was real. You know Jungkook keeps a rather terrifying knife strapped to his thigh. You all carry weapons, though you don’t really need them. Even Jungkook, with a Gift that’s misunderstood and exceptionally rare, is never found without his weapon.

Out of all the Gifteds you’ve met on your way to safety, you have never encountered another who can manipulate shadows. So, there is truth to Yoongi’s statement.

Jungkook is terrifying, even with the wide, starry eyes he always seems to stare at you with. He’s quiet and shy, typically sticking to Hoseok. You assume it’s likely because you found the two of them together. Both were kept in the same room at the research facility in Busan. As unassuming as Jungkook may be, you’ve seen him manipulate shadows to wrap around a Red Pin’s neck. Those shadows twisted and tightened until the man crumpled.

You didn’t need to have the Gift of blood manipulation to know when his heart stopped.

It was one of the scariest moments of your life, even beyond the suffering you’d endured having lived in the research facilities since you were a teen. Before then, you’d never seen someone die. Even when Yoongi and Namjoon helped you escape, they shielded you from the worst of it. It wasn’t until the three of you came upon the newest facility that such horrors were unleashed.

Jungkook hates himself for it. You know he does; you typically make your bed beside his, and he cries in his sleep. Self-defense protects the body in the moment, but harms the mind and heart long-term.

You probably would have done the same.

For as tragic as his story is - or what little you know of it - Jungkook has an undeniably beautiful soul. Those horrors have yet to turn him cruel or his heart black. Even when he spars, you can tell that he’s being gentle. He holds back and doesn’t reach his full potential out of fear of hurting others, you’re sure. You can see it in how he bounces on the balls of his feet to keep his movements light and how his back muscles ripple beneath his shirt as it clings to his skin. A bead of sweat runs along his neck, over the vein that bulges from his exerting effort.

Something prickles under your skin. When you look up, it’s into those wide eyes full of galaxies you’ll never understand, are somehow okay with not understanding if it means you can continue to gaze upon them.

A small smile pulls the corners of Jungkook’s mouth up. His expression is short-lived, though, quickly falling as a bright orange flame licks at his ankles.

“Don’t let my words get to your head, Jeon,” Yoongi teases. “Impossible to beat, but easy to hurt.”

This time, you catch Yoongi’s eye. You duck your head when he winks at you, just in time to block another blast of water from Namjoon.

“Why is everyone so off today?” Namjoon grumbles to himself. You haven’t managed to successfully hit him even once.

“I’m tired,” you whine again, dropping a ball of water to the ground. Dead grass quickly soaks it up once it splashes. “We should check on Jessi.”

Your group's sixth and final member is tucked away in the corner of the warehouse on the top floor. It’s dark up there, though Yoongi’s everlasting fire, paired with the windows Jessi managed to open, gives enough light for her to work.

She has black grease smudged on her left cheek and across her forehead. Her long, thick hair is tied back into a ponytail, though strands have fallen out to frame her face. When you step closer, you hear her muttering, but you can’t make out what she’s saying. It’s not for you. She speaks, facing the black box placed in front of where she kneels on the floor. The floor can’t feel good on her knees with its bits of broken concrete and dirt. Everything hurts in this life; it hardly matters as long as you’re here and not there.

“This piece of shit,” Jessi hisses, running her hands across her face. It smears more grease onto her skin, but she doesn’t care.

“Not working?”

“Beep beep boop beeping all over the fucking place, then static. White noise and shit. Like it’s telling me to fuck off even though I’m the one fixing it.”

You hum, crouching down to stare at the box. It’s an old radio meant to transport messages back and forth. Perhaps left behind by the military after it had occupied this land while it bulldozed the vigilantes seeking to save Gifteds from the fate you all ended up sharing anyway.

Jessi tweaks a few exposed wires. Every time they spark, you flinch. Mini white lightning, it’s deadly for anyone but Jessi. She grumbles and continues her work with deft fingers calloused from toiling away at the stupid thing for months.

“I’m normally so fucking good at this, I swear to God.”

Frustration colors her tone, even if her expression and cursing didn’t already give her feelings away.

You don’t doubt her, though, and you tell her as much. Still, you know firsthand that it sucks when your powers don’t work how you want them to. As a technopath, fixing the radio should be easy work for her.

“There must be something wrong with it… Maybe the Red Pins did something to it?”

You don’t know anything about technology. Even with the phone you’d stolen off one of the Red Pins, all you’d gotten to do was look at TikTok and try to find out where your parents were before Yoongi made you destroy the device. The government had ways to track you. Technology was as much your friend as a stranger on the street.

With a sigh, Jessi leans back until she’s sitting flat on the grimy floor.

“Maybe? Fuck if I know. I think I’m getting close, though. I’m getting some frequency when I concentrate really hard, but I wanna fix it so it’ll work even without me.”

Your friend whispers the end of her statement. It goes without saying; each one of you knows the fragility of life on the run.

“Thank you for working so hard.” Even in the dim lighting, you can see her watery eyes shine. It hurts your heart, but all you can offer is a light squeeze of her shoulder.

Jessi shrugs. “It’s as much for me as it is for you.”

You watch her stand and brush the dirt from her butt, her joints cracking from sitting down too long. When you first joined this mutant crew, you would have followed behind Jessi to comfort her. But, after months of running and fighting, you’ve learned that sometimes solitude is the best healing method.

4 MONTHS, 2 DAYS

“What makes you think you’re ready? That any of us are ready?”

Yoongi watches you with catlike eyes from where he sits at the kitchen table. The chairs circled around the battered wooden table are mismatched and in varying stages of deterioration from being abandoned for so long. The one Yoongi sits in is metal, and he leans on its two back legs, his right foot pressed to the floor to keep himself steady and his arms crossed against his chest.

Although Yoongi isn’t raising his voice - he never does - you still feel like you’re being scolded.

“I know we are,” you challenge him. Your voice is steady even as your fingers tremble. To stop them from shaking, you squeeze your hands into a fist, nails biting at the skin of your palms.

You should sit down, but holding your energy in is hard. Instead, you pace the kitchen while Yoongi’s cat eyes and Jessi’s wide ones follow you. You feel like a lion looping its cage, the desire to run restricted and confined.

“How?”

“We can’t stay here, Yoong! We can’t. I can’t.”

The front legs of Yoongi’s chair slam into the concrete floor. He allows the momentum to pull him forward, landing his elbows on the table’s surface.

Looking at Yoongi hurts. You can tell from his face that the next thing he says won’t be pleasant. His lips are pressed into a fine line that curves downward slightly. It’s cute how he can pull off a straight-lipped frown, but not when it’s directed at you.

It’s been at least an hour of back and forth between the three of you. Jessi tapped out a long time ago, resolved to watch the tennis match of an argument between you and Yoongi rather than exert energy on a fight she isn’t committed to. Yoongi and Jessi have the final say in all group decisions as the group's elders. It’s another reminder of how you think Yoongi sees you as someone to take care of rather than an equal.

“Have you ever killed someone before, Y/N?”

You pause your pacing to stand in front of the table. Yoongi is an exceptional cook, managing to create delicious meals out of what little you all have to work with from the forest. But now, at this moment, you feel like you’re going to be sick from the food churning in your stomach.

“No.”

“No,” Yoongi repeats. He speaks slowly, like he’s mulling your answer over, letting it twist around his tongue until he’s satisfied enough with its taste to swallow it down.

Leaning forward, Yoongi presses his palms against the table’s surface. He spreads his fingers and stares at them. The two of you seem to trace over the scars that line his skin, little nicks, and slices that healed light pink or blazing white. You’ve never seen Yoongi naked, but you have seen a good expanse of his body when you’ve used your Gift to help the others get clean. From what you’ve seen, you know Yoongi’s entire body is littered with battle scars.

“I have,” he admits what you already knew, and the gravelly sound of his voice makes you shudder. “Jungkook has.”

You wince at the mention of the younger man, but Yoongi doesn’t give you a chance to speak.

“Do you want to ask him what it’s like to squeeze the life out of another man? He may have done it with shadows, but I guarantee he still felt it in his hands.”

Yoongi lifts his eyes to yours when the first tear rolls down your cheek. Concern wrinkles his forehead.

“Yoongi,” you start, but the pink-haired man shakes his head.

“I don’t mean to upset you, kiddo.” The pet name twists your gut tighter with frustration - even though Yoongi’s voice is filled with gentle adoration when he calls out to you. “But I’ll be damned if I let us walk into that forest without knowing where we’re going or whose claws we’re running into. The Gifted Commune is, at best, a rumor. At worst - a trap.”

You want to tell him that falling for a rumor or getting caught by the government is better than sitting in a concrete cage. The prospect of finding a community of other Gifted runaways who have managed to create a society safe from the evils you’ve grown up with means more to you than the fear of the unknown.

There’s no use, though. Jessi is nodding along to Yoongi’s words; the blank expression she wears when she’s upset already masks her face.

“I will not put you in a situation where you must kill or be killed, Y/N. I won’t fucking do it.” Yoongi clears his throat suddenly, and he looks away from you. You’re unsure, but think he might be blinking back unshed tears.

You’re still pissed, but now your anger is mixed quite prettily with debilitating guilt. You’ve never seen Yoongi cry, and you realize with a sinking feeling that you really don’t want to.

“It’s too fucking risky,” Jessi finally speaks. She presses her fingers against her forehead, massaging it slowly as she, too, looks for words. “The radio is almost fixed; I can feel that it’s close. Then we will have a clearer line of communication with the Commune. It doesn’t guarantee anything, obviously, but it’s better than going in without fucking knowing anything.”

There’s nothing else to say. Yoongi doesn’t look at you or Jessi, instead staring at something in the opposite corner of the room.

Jessi gives you what you think is a smile laced with pity - or at least an apology.

How can everyone be so content to stay in the warehouse? You’re a bunch of sitting ducks, hiding out in the same location for months, practically waiting for the government to send their agents to either corral you into laboratories again or exterminate you. You don’t understand how becoming a moving target is a bad thing.

But, ultimately, you don’t understand why Yoongi can’t just trust you.

With a frustrated huff, you twist around to hurry out of the kitchen. As you cross the threshold, Namjoon appears in the doorway.

“Oh, I need to ask you-”

You don’t mean to shove Namjoon with your shoulder as hard as you do, but you don’t have the patience to comply with whatever he expects you to do for him. Probably more sparring and training.

On the one hand, sharing your identity as a water elemental with someone else in the group is an affirming experience. On the other, it’s infuriating because Namjoon sees your potential and pushes you toward it - even when you fight against him.

Namjoon sputters something, and you hear Jessi convince him to drop it. Whatever else they have to say is lost on you; you’re no longer interested in entertaining the conversations of the “leaders” of the group. Part of you wants to find Hoseok or Jungkook to force them to commiserate with you, but something about dumping your sludge of emotions onto them feels wrong.

So you do what you’ve always done best: you repress.

It isn’t until a few hours later when you’re lounging on your makeshift bed with the only tattered book you kept from your facility (Fahrenheit 451, how fitting), that you give yourself over to the gnawing need to interact with other humans.

Jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet, items that you can’t make out pressed against his chest.

“Will you cut my hair for me, noona?”

The out-of-use honorific flusters you, making your face burn under Jungkook’s attentive gaze.

“You don’t have to be so formal with me,” you insist, embarrassment ravaging your twisted stomach and fluttering chest. Something about the attention Jungkook gives you makes you feel nervous and giddy.

“It’s not very formal, really. It’s… respectful? I just… You are, it means,” Jungkook lets out a huff. He blows his bangs out of his face as his cheeks turn pink. “You are special to me.”

You duck your head, shocked by Jungkook’s honesty. It warms you in a way you’re not sure you understand, letting the feeling sit inside your chest rather than exploring it any further.

“Where I come from, we don’t have words like that.”

Jungkook gives you a shrug. Neither of you mentions that in Korea, those words don’t really exist anymore, either.

“But, okay,” you relent softly.

Jungkook stands beside the mess of blankets that make up your bed, holding a pair of scissors and electric clippers Jessi enhanced to operate on their own. Jungkook nicked them from a Red Pin on their way out of the research facility he’d grown up in. Hairstyling tools didn’t seem high on your list of items to steal, but they’d come in handy. Like now, with Jungkook’s bangs falling entirely into his eyes and his hair sweeping across his shoulders.

The pout Jungkook wears lessens slightly. He holds out the tools with an expectant look on his face. It’s cute how his bottom lip juts out, pink and chapped from nervously chewing on it. You’d overheard Namjoon scolding him for something earlier that morning before you went outside to patrol the grounds with Hoseok and Jessi.

Taking the items from Jungkook, you lead him out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. The lights sputter briefly before they fully brighten the small room. Jessi was excited to learn that her Gift extended to electricity as a whole, not just that within technology like computers and radios. With all your Gifts combined, the warehouse is liveable, almost comfortable.

Jungkook sits on the closed lid of the toilet, making you tower over him. He parts his legs slightly so you can stand between them as you run your fingers through his hair.

You spread your fingers and sweep his bangs up, exposing his forehead. It opens up his face more and makes him look older. Jungkook is handsome; there’s no denying that. You’re sure in another life, he could have been a regular college kid with a sweet girlfriend and a bright future.

“What would you like me to do?”

“Hmm?” Jungkook hums with his eyes closed, and his head tilted back slightly.

You don’t miss how he leans into your touch, completely pliable in your hands, as you massage his scalp and continue to play with his hair. It’s thick and soft, even without the proper haircare products to maintain the health of the follicles.

“How do you want me to cut it, silly?”

You reach for the hairbrush you keep tucked away in the bathroom cabinet. It takes a few more moments of silence while you brush out Jungkook’s waves before he finally speaks.

“Short. Cut it all off, please? It’s too hard to take care of now, and it gets in my face.”

“Don’t get mad at me if it comes out bad.”

Jungkook lets out a frustrated sound. “You always do a great job. You gave Yoongi hyung an undercut. It looks so good!”

At the mention of Yoongi, you feel your heart drop. Somehow you know Jungkook is here to make you feel better even if he hasn’t said anything about the argument, and he’s the one seeking your help, not the other way around. He’s a distraction - one you wonder if Yoongi sent himself.

It isn’t that Yoongi won’t apologize; you just never give him a chance to before you run off to lick your wounds on your own.

It’s the healing quality of solitude, you think as you prepare to cut Jungkook’s hair. However, this time, you’re not alone.

You can’t help but smile when Jungkook starts singing a song of his own creation as chunks of his hair fall to the floor. His song drowns out the static that buzzes in your brain like the fuzziness Jessi’s broken radio emits when anyone but her fiddles with it.

“This way,” you speak softly, not wanting to disrupt his singing as you press your fingertips against his jaw and under his chin to lift his face toward you. Your finger presses against the little mole just below Jungkook’s bottom lip. The angle gives you a better view of your work so far.

A small smile flickers on Jungkook’s face as though he’s trying to keep it down, but the corners of his mouth won’t listen to him.

“It feels nice. We don’t touch.”

You hum and nod your head, but Jungkook’s eyes are still closed. It’s true; kind touches are rare. Hoseok is really the only one who gives out hugs. Everything is tough all the time. There’s little room for gentleness, even amongst friends.

So you understand when Jungkook’s smile wins out, and he finally surrenders to the happiness your light touches along his jaw bring him.

4 MONTHS, 5 DAYS

It takes Yoongi three days to apologize.

Perhaps you should have apologized first, but you struggle to see how you could have done anything that warrants an apology. Yes, you feel bad for upsetting Yoongi, but his attitude toward you lately has rubbed you the wrong way.

During the three days it takes him to apologize to you, he seems to do his best to avoid you.

On the days you’re assigned to go on patrol with Yoongi, Jungkook accompanies you instead. You don’t mind having Jungkook by your side, you discover, even though you’re upset that Yoongi is behaving so childishly.

Neither Jungkook nor Yoongi talks much, but you learn that their silence feels different. Whereas Yoongi’s silence stems from feeling confident and content with not needing to fill the air with incessant babbling, Jungkook’s silence is awkward and heavy. He fiddles with the loose strings of his shirt, his reddened cuticles, and everything else. You don’t mind the awkwardness, though. It’s nice to comb through the woods with someone as powerful as Jungkook; you know there’s nothing to fear with him around.

The only weapon Jungkook carries is the knife strapped to his thigh. You, on the other hand, stay heavily armed. Your fingers tighten around your bow. When you twist your torso, the harness that holds your arrows digs into your shoulder. You also have a knife, though you are honestly afraid of close combat. A gun would be even better, but ammo is difficult to come by. It’s easier to collect your arrows after you’ve shot them, although you haven’t needed to yet. Since finding refuge at the warehouse, no one has discovered your group.

Apparently, all your friends are willing to keep testing fate. You aren’t interested in pushing your luck. Jungkook doesn’t comment on the group’s plans for moving forward - or lack thereof. Something tells you that he’ll do whatever Yoongi and Jessi tell him to do.

Still, going on patrol with Jungkook does a decent job of preventing your thoughts from straying toward your argument with Yoongi. Your hands brushed together a few times as you walked side by side, and you could practically feel Jungkook’s brain shortcircuit from the contact.

Part of you thinks he has a crush on you, but the more logical part of you knows he’s probably shy. The kid has gone through a lot in life. Not everything is always about you; you try to remind yourself. Yoongi doesn’t even want you. Why would Jungkook?

On the third day, bright doe eyes don’t greet you at the edge of the woods, just as the sun is kissing the sky for the first time. Instead, sharp cat eyes hold your gaze when you lightly jog over.

“Good morning, kiddo.”

Yoongi wears dark shorts with tattered edges cut from a pair of old jeans and a plain t-shirt the color of the forest in spring. It’s not warm enough to wear what he’s wearing, but fire elementals run hot like you run cold.

“Hi,” you say, voice a bit stunted as you hold your jacket tighter to your body.

You’ve foregone your bow and arrows today; you may or may not have snapped your bow in a fit of frustration that may or may not have anything to do with Yoongi ignoring you at dinner the night before. A knife and your Gift will have to do, but you feel it is enough. Namjoon insists on learning how to use your Gifts and weapons in tandem. For double the defense, or so he says.

Carrying a knife seems ridiculous when you know how to choke someone with their own spit without touching them.

Once you’re within arm’s reach, Yoongi offers his hand to you. He holds it as though he’s going in for a handshake. Yellow-orange fire licks at his palm and swirls in tendrils around his fingers and wrist.

After a few seconds of silence, he makes a slight grunting sound and wiggles his fingers, beckoning you.

It’s impossible not to cave. A prickly feeling tingles down your arm, beginning somewhere in your chest and eventually settling in your fingertips. A tiny hurricane of water stolen from the moisture in the air circles around your hand just as the fire does Yoongi’s.

He lets out a pleased sound when your palms glide across each other. You hook your thumbs together, using the momentum to spin your hands around until your fingers are interlaced and pressed into your palms. You both squeeze your hands once, twice, three times in a heartbeat before pulling away. By the end, the fire and water have disappeared.

When you meet Yoongi’s eyes, the warmth of the fire in his palm has transferred to his gaze. There is an apology in how you release each other’s hands. The handshake holds secret words of friendship and reassurance between you.

The two of you stand in silence for a bit until Yoongi tilts his head in the direction of the woods. You nod in response and follow Yoongi along one of the many patrol paths your group has established.

There’s never anything in the woods besides small animals like squirrels and rabbits, but everyone feels better knowing there is a consistent patrol of the area, just in case.

“So,” When you look at Yoongi, his lips twist into a light smirk you absolutely do not like. “You and Jungkook.”

“Me and Jungkook what?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Just seems like you two been hanging out a lot.”

“Yeah, because you were fucking ignoring me all week.”

His smirk drops into a stern frown, but Yoongi continues following the path. He walks slightly ahead of you with his hands clasped behind his back. It feels like he’s taking a leisurely stroll through a garden rather than going on patrol in the woods for government assassins.

“It was immature and irresponsible of me, and I’m sorry for that.”

Forgiving Yoongi is too easy. It’s the way the morning sun shines through the canopy of trees above you, casting streaks of light against his fading pink hair. The way he carries himself with confidence is gentle and comforting rather than arrogant or misplaced. It’s how he looks at you; you know he would do anything for you.

“It’s okay,” you finally concede. You scramble a bit to fall in line with Yoongi again. “I was being dramatic.”

“Life is one big drama, isn’t it?” Yoongi muses with a chuckle. It’s a question he doesn’t expect an answer to, which is good, considering you’ve got something else buzzing around in your head.

Well, fuck it. You’re just gonna say it.

Heart pounding, you eventually find it in you to say, “I still think you’re wrong.”

After a moment, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment of your admission but doesn’t offer anything else. It’s better than nothing, so you tell yourself to be content with all that he offers.

“Anyway…” You don’t want to drop the subject, but Yoongi’s question is nagging in the back of your brain now - a nagging question you now have a gnawing desire to know the meaning behind. “Me and Jungkook can hang out without it meaning-”

Before you can finish your statement, Yoongi slaps his hand against your mouth. The calluses on his palms are rough against your chapped lips, and his skin is sweaty. His free arm comes around to the front of your chest near your collarbones. He draws you against his chest so tightly you can’t move.

“Don’t talk.” His breath is hot against your face, and his voice is almost indiscernible.

You give a tiny nod before locking your body completely still. You hold your breath, straining to hear what Yoongi might hear or see what he might see. There’s nothing, just the usual sound of life in the woods - birds chirping, small animals scurrying in the brush. You don’t see anything either.

You can only focus on the frantic pounding of your heart and the calm beat of Yoongi’s against your back. How he can be so relaxed when he thinks there might be danger in the woods that you can’t even see is unreal.

Slowly, Yoongi takes a step back away from you. He holds a finger to his lips and silently mouths for you to stay where you are. Everything inside you screams to disobey as you watch Yoongi disappear further into the woods, the thick trees swallowing him whole.

But you don’t. You stay put, fear rooting you to the ground even though your body desperately wants to follow.

What lies beyond the thicket of trees? What is dangerous enough that Yoongi wants you to stay put but not so dangerous that he believes he can take it on alone?

Just when your resolve is about to crumble, something catches your attention out of the corner of your eye. Barely breathing, you turn your head to watch a dark spot glide across the forest floor. It’s two-dimensional, not an object but a presence creeping along the ground.

Suddenly, the spot grows. It spreads, turning its shape from a flat, uneven circle to a thing with tendrils sticking out of it, each new tendril moving independently. You gasp when one of the tendrils creeps up your leg. Despite being two-dimensional, you can feel the darkness. It’s firm and cold, like a snake slithering up your body.

Every inch of you trembles as the strange darkness slowly spreads across your body. You squeeze your eyes and hold your breath. Perhaps this is the thing that Yoongi saw, a phantom stalking the trees. But now you’re left behind to be absorbed into its darkness, eaten alive.

You’re startled when the cold disappears; instead, strong arms pull you against a firm chest. Warmth envelopes you, and when you open your eyes, you see familiar ones looking back at you.

“I got you,” Jungkook murmurs. He has you tucked under his chin, and he tilts his head down when he speaks to you. You shiver as his lips lightly brush against your forehead.

“Where did you-”

“Shhh.”

Jungkook’s heart isn’t steady like Yoongi’s had been. On the contrary, it’s beating rather furiously. You can hear him attempting to regulate his emotions, taking in mindful breaths and exhaling in a way that tickles your skin.

You don’t know how long you stand there pulled against Jungkook’s chest. After a while, your breathing matches his until you fall into a gentle rhythm that makes you sleepy. The adrenaline is making you crash, your body hardly strong enough to hold yourself up after panicking so severely - still panicking. Luckily, when you lean into Jungkook, his hold on you tightens.

In another situation, pressing your fronts together would have flooded your body with heat. You can feel all of Jungkook like this, from the bulging muscles of his chest to his thigh pressed slightly between your legs from how he holds you up. But fear of the unknown and Jungkook’s clearly distressed state prevent those other thoughts from materializing.

Jungkook’s body doesn’t relax until Yoongi appears around the corner of a large tree. He keeps his arms wrapped around you, and for a second, Yoongi looks around at the clearing you're in as though he can’t see you.

It isn’t until Jungkook lets go of you that recognition flashes in Yoongi’s eyes.

“There you are,” Yoongi murmurs to the two of you. He looks like he rolled around on the ground, little pieces of leaves and sticks caught in his hair and stuck to his clothes. His left knee is bleeding from a few superficial scrapes.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

Yoongi looks at Jungkook before he answers your question, which irritates you. “I tripped when I rushed in, but it was nothing. Just a large fox I heard making noise back there.”

A fox is likely the largest animal in the woods, with no bears or wolves in the area. Still, you don’t trust Yoongi. You can pick up on the charred smell coming off of him. He smells like a barbecue, which means only one thing…

“Have you been practicing turning yourself invisible?”

Jungkook ducks his head down but no longer has long bangs to hide his face. It takes a second for your brain to process Yoongi’s question - and the change in the topic - but Jungkook is already answering him by the time you figure it out.

“It’s not really invisibility,” he says softly. “It’s more like… an illusion.”

Yoongi hums and motions for the two of you to start walking. You’re returning to the warehouse, you realize, even though you only just started the patrol route.

“Yeah, I can… adjust the lighting, I guess? To make it seem like you can’t see me. Or, us, this time.”

Jungkook gives you a small smile when you whip around to look at him.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook repeats. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and wiggles it like he has more to say but doesn’t want to let it out just yet.

The three of you walk in silence until you reach the warehouse. When Yoongi walks ahead of you, you can tell he’s limping, even as he does his best to walk normally.

“He’s okay.”

Jungkook stands beside you in the field behind the warehouse, watching Yoongi reach the backdoor.

“He’s bleeding.”

Jungkook’s ears are pink when he responds, “He’ll be okay.”

“He’s lying to us.”

Jungkook absentmindedly runs his fingers along his bottom lip. It droops as he speaks through a pout. “Maybe. But I trust him, even if he is.”

It’s a strange thing to trust someone who is lying.

All you can do is nod. All you can do is accept that the people around you are doing what’s right because, aside from them, there is no one and nothing you can trust in the world.

As you approach the warehouse, Jungkook curls his fingers around your wrist to stop you. He watches you with the same wide-eyed look he gives everyone, though something about this time feels different. His expression is more open and vulnerable. He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to hurt him.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologizes softly.

“But you didn’t?”

Your eyebrows crease your forehead, trying to recall what you may have done to make Jungkook feel like you feared him. Sure, his sudden appearance in the woods was startling, but he’d brought you a feeling of comfort and safety - not fear.

Jungkook doesn’t correct you. Instead, he lets go of your wrist as shame warms his cheeks, but he doesn’t look away from you. The timidness is still there. You can see it in how he chews on his bottom lip. Still, his eyes take on a more guarded, hardened expression for a split second, and then…

He’s gone.

“What the fuck?” You mutter to yourself.

Now that you’ve seen the darkness before, your eyes quickly notice the spot on the ground that creeps and grows into odd shapes, slinking along the grass before taking form up your legs, curling around your arms.

It’s Jungkook. You knew it in the woods, somewhere deep down. Your fear for Yoongi’s safety - and your own - prevented you from processing the situation. But now, as the darkness envelopes you again, you know what to expect when you close your eyes and open them to see Jungkook’s broad chest as he crushes you against him.

“You never showed me before.”

Maybe it’s weird that you’re still clinging to each other, but Jungkook is warm and solid, and his heartbeat guides yours into a slower rhythm.

“That’s because it’s creepy.”

“Well, I think it’s cool. Even though, yeah, you kinda scared the shit outta me.”

Jungkook lets out an embarrassed whine and squeezes you tighter. You knew he could command shadows but hadn’t realized he could become one or move within them. Sure, the tornado trick he’d done a few times with Hoseok had been cool, but you’d always thought he was merely swirling the darkness around himself. You hadn’t realized he was the darkness.

Honestly, it made him all the more terrifying and equally as endearing.

“I just had this… feeling something bad was happening…” Jungkook whispers into your hair. “I needed to check.”

“Good thing it was only a fox.”

Jungkook nods in agreement; you know he believes it more than you do.

“I’m just happy you’re safe.” You can feel his cheek press against the top of your head for a moment before he finally releases you.

There’s a feeling there as Jungkook leads you to the warehouse. He laces his fingers with yours, and you can’t help but hear Yoongi’s question on a loop in your head.

You and Jungkook?

4 MONTHS, 3 WEEKS

“What if they think we’re the feds and feed us false information?”

“We’re too stupid to be the feds. It would be obvious.”

“I don’t know… we all escaped the government, so they must be pretty stupid.”

“What if they’re the feds?”

“Shit, I never thought about that.”

“They’re not the fucking feds.”

“How do you know that?!”

“Can all of you please just shut the fuck up?”

The six of you crowd around the radio on the kitchen table. Jessi shows you how to operate it, which flip to switch to activate the microphone, and how to adjust the volume. You’re all muted for now. When Hoseok goes to flip the switch, Jessi smacks his hand out of the way.

“Listen to me,” she says sternly, turning in her seat to get a good look at all of you. “No one talks.”

“But-”

“No one talks.”

Five heads nod at her command, including Yoongi, which feels very satisfying to you for some reason.

Details of the Gifted Commune somewhere beyond the woods traveled by word of mouth. Coordinates and radio frequencies were exchanged in hushed tones between the Gifteds who dared dream of a life beyond the Labs. You’re sad to admit that you were never one of those Gifteds. It wasn’t until Yoongi helped you escape that you even realized escaping was an option, so brainwashed into thinking the Labs were all you had. You were in a new country, stumbling through an unfamiliar language, taken from your family. Sure, you’d learned enough to get by over time - but missing your adolescent years made you feel hopeless.

Jessi is the only one who had communicated with the Commune leaders in the past when she and another Gifted managed to break into a control room in the Labs she came from.

That’s why she’s the one to speak into the radio that you find operates much like a long-distance walkie-talkie. You’re glad it’s not you. She introduces herself, her whereabouts, and her credentials with an even voice you know you could never replicate.

Despite the distrust you’re all afraid of, Jessi’s previous connection to the Commune makes it easy for her to request to speak to the Commune leader, a healer named Kim Taehyung.

Sitting with your fingers gripping the edge of the table so tightly your knuckles are beginning to ache, you lean forward as though you can get closer to the gentle voice that floats from the radio’s speakers.

Taehyung doesn’t sound anything like you’d imagined, though you aren’t sure what you were expecting, to be honest. Maybe someone with a rougher voice made harsh by the trials of life as a fugitive of the Republic. Instead, he’s soft as he asks Jessi how many there are of you and what your coordinates are. This man, already larger than life even though none of you knows what he looks like, is patient as he gives Jessi instructions on how to reach the Commune.

“I can assure you,” Taehyung speaks, and you don’t know what he’s about to say, but you find yourself already believing him, “You will be safe here. It won’t be a short trip.” That makes your gut twist, but you focus on his following words. “But there are abandoned shelters along the route to find refuge in. The nights get terribly cold.”

Namjoon scribbles some notes down on a worn piece of paper. It’s been written on and erased to add more notes over the months you’ve been at the warehouse since there are only a few pieces of paper between the six of you. There’s a small hole in the middle of the page where someone erased too hard - or too many times, you suppose.

“Thank you, Taehyung-ssi.”

The line is quiet for a moment. Jessi’s gaze shoots up to glare at Jungkook’s interruption, but Taehyung speaks before she can chastise the younger man.

“Anything for my dongsaeng,” the man on the other side of the radio states.

You don’t know him, so there is no way to tell if the subtle lilt to his voice indicates affection, but it seems like it as the two men use polite terms no one ever uses anymore. It’s old-fashioned and reminiscent of a time lost to all of you.

Jessi steers the conversation back to planning the group’s journey to the Commune. Excitement makes you jittery as you skip out of the kitchen, the men - aside from Yoongi - following after you. The boring stuff is what follows, and you’re all content to let the leaders discuss that stuff.

“Do you think we’ll be able to do it?” Hoseok clasps his hands together, occasionally squeezing them. When he speaks, he keeps his eyes on the closed kitchen door.

Namjoon shrugs at the same time you respond, “We have to.”

PART ONE - PART TWO

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #a spring offering collab #wtfgu

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rosevette · 2 months

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·.༄࿔ TAKE ME TO PARIS part 2. my mlist

𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌 & 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

💋ྀིྀི résumé : the gifts won’t stop, along with john’s paranoia. he won’t even let you out of the hotel.

1.6k words + tags : dumb, ‘naive’ !reader, manipulation, fantasizing, smut, age gap, pet names, fingering, slight non-con, evil intent, brat-taming⭑

୭ৎ … im so sorry yall had to wait so long for this, but im finally finished !! more chapters to come, and I hope you enjoy…if there are any error, ignore! (part 1 here) - sincerely, rose

DAYS PASSED, and John's concern only seemed to intensify. He hovered nearby constantly, his watchful gaze never leaving your side, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. The gifts from Marquis didn’t stop either, a jewelry a day.

At first, you found John’s behavior endearing, a testament to his unwavering dedication to keeping you safe. But as time wore on, his constant vigilance began to chafe, leaving you feeling suffocated by his overbearing presence.

"I'm just going for a walk, John," you protested, attempting to slip past him as he stood guard by the hotel entrance.

His grip tightened on your arm, his eyes flashing with undisguised worry. "I can't let you out of my sight, not with him out there," he insisted, his tone firm and resolute.

Frustration bubbled up inside you as you shook off his hold, refusing to be caged like some delicate bird.

"I'm not a child, John. I can take care of myself," you snapped, storming towards the door, before the brooding man stopped you and held his position in front of the door.

“I said no.”

His voice was cold, you were getting on his nerves. Paranoid or not, he couldn’t let you go outside.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, my patience has already been thrown out the window.” He glared at you, you could tell he wasn’t joking, but you just can’t help but to talk back.

“You’re such a brute. You can’t keep me here fore—“ You widened your eyes, feeling a hand read gently on your mouth. Fluttering your eyelashes to John’s gaze, your face flushed, your eyebrows narrowing.

“Stop being a brat.” He murmured, his words slipping smoothly through his lips.

Before you knew it, his body already pressed against yours firmly, his weight leaning you against the flat surface of the wall, secluded in your room.

“I’m just looking out for you, is that so hard to understand?”

As John pressed you against the decorative wallpaper, his firm grip sending shivers down your spine, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. His proximity ignited a fire within you, stirring desires that had long lain dormant.

With a defiant smirk, you met his intense gaze head-on, the heat of his breath mingling with yours as you leaned in closer, the tension crackling between you like electricity.

"You're not my keeper, John," you countered, your voice laced with equal parts defiance and desire. "I can take care of myself."

But before you could utter another word, John's lips crashed against yours, his kiss fierce and demanding, leaving you breathless and dizzy with longing. His hands roamed your body with a possessive urgency, igniting a fierce hunger deep within your core.

“Do you understand what no means?” He leaned back, scoffing at your flushed state. Now turning your body around to face him, his eyes trailed your body top to bottom, your heart pacing, knowing what was next.

With a gasp, you melted into him, your resistance crumbling beneath the weight of his passion. Every touch, every caress sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building to a fever pitch that threatened to consume you whole.

It didn’t take long until you felt his hands start to trail up your silk dress, his hand could be seen rubbing along your thighs through the thin fabric. Each whimper you gave was met with a smirk from John, only fueling his ego.

“Seems like this brat is already so wet for me. Is this what you wanted? To push my buttons to end up like this?”

Your breath hitched as John’s hands explored the curves of your body, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you with every teasing touch. His words, though laced with arrogance, only served to stoke the flames of your desire, igniting a primal need that begged to be sated.

With a low whimper, you arched into his touch, unable to deny the intoxicating effect he had on you. “N-No I didn’t mean to I…,” you murmured, your voice dripping with seduction as you trailed your fingers along the contours of his chest.

The tension between you crackled with raw intensity, each touch, each whispered word fueling the inferno of passion that raged between you. Lost in the heat of the moment, his fingers eventually met contact with your wet folds, a moan slipping past your lips.

“J-John..” you croaked, squinting.

“I told you there would be punishments for your behavior.” You couldn’t even reply back in time when he had slipped a finger inside your wet hole, gasping into the air. A few pumps from his digits already made you a moaning mess.

Your words caught in your throat as John’s touch sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, rendering you speechless as ecstasy washed over you in dizzying waves. His fingers, skilled and knowing, delved deeper into your core, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatened to consume you whole.

Every pump, every stroke sent you spiraling closer to the edge, your moans echoing in the air as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming pleasure that John bestowed upon you. His touch was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, leaving you craving more with each passing moment.

He smirked, eventually pulling his fingers away to bring to his mouth, tasting you. You widened your eyes, wondering why he stopped as jaw hung open, your poor cunt soaked and wanting more.

John’s smirk only deepened as he savored the taste of your arousal on his fingers, his gaze locked with yours as he drank in your reaction with undisguised satisfaction. Your widened eyes and parted lips spoke volumes, your confusion and desire swirling together in a heady mix that only fueled his own arousal.

“Such a sweet little thing,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful promise as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You want more, don’t you?” He laughed wickedly. This was your punishment. He wasn’t going to continue, he was going to make you wait for it.

He scoffed, leaving you breathless and aching for more as he reveled in the power he held over you. Your body throbbed with need, every nerve on edge as you craved his touch like a drug.

“Clean yourself up, darling,” he said casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired between you.

Confusion and frustration warred within you as you struggled to make sense of his abrupt change in demeanor. Had it all been a game to him? A cruel joke at your expense?

With trembling hands, you gathered your wits about you, forcing yourself to stand on shaky legs as you attempted to compose yourself. But the memory of his touch lingered like a fever dream, leaving you reeling in its wake.

Now stepping out of the steaming shower, you sighed to yourself, thinking back to John’s advances just an hour ago. You should’ve known he had a trick up his sleeve just to toy with you.

Before you could dwell on the thought any longer, your phone rang, startling you out of your reverie. Glancing at the caller ID, you frowned in confusion at the unfamiliar number. Hesitantly, you answered, bringing the phone to your ear.

"Bonjour, ma chérie," a smooth voice purred from the other end, sending a chill down your spine.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Recognition dawned on you as you realized who was calling. "Marquis," you greeted evenly, masking the tremor in your voice. “How did you find my number…”

"Ah, I know a guy," he replied, his voice dripping with honeyed charm. "Tell me, have you been enjoying my little gifts?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I appreciate the gesture," you replied tersely, forcing a note of indifference into your tone.

Deep down, you weren’t scared or threatened that the man called you, in fact, you welcomed it. Perhaps you could use this as payback for John?

The Marquis's laughter echoed in your ears, he had noticed your tone of voice . "Oh, ma chérie, you wound me," he purred. "But tell me, have you left Paris? I haven’t seen you anywhere…”

Yeah, thanks to John. You thought in your head.

“I simply admire beautiful things, and you, my dear, are the most exquisite masterpiece of them all. A shame I haven’t seen you since the auction.

Despite the danger and warning bells ringing in your mind, a rebellious spark ignited within you at the Marquis’s words. You couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through you at the thought of defying John, of embracing the danger that lurked just beyond the shadows.

As the Marquis’s laughter echoed in your ears, you felt a surge of defiance welling up inside you.

“I’m still here, Marquis,” you replied, your voice laced with a hint of mischief. “And I must say, your absence hasn’t gone unnoticed either.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a low chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. “Ah, so you’re still playing games, ma chérie,” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. “I must say, I do admire your spirit.”

The Marquis’s laughter filled the air once more, a sound that sent a thrill of anticipation racing through your veins. “Well then, my dear,” he purred. “Let’s see just how far that taste for danger will take you.”

the end ! part 3 in progress…

#keanu reeves #john wick #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard x reader #john wick 4 #keanu x reader #marquis de gramont #Marquis x reader #John wick x reader #John wick imagines #Marquis de Gramont imagines #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard fanfiction #John wick 4 imagines #John wick 4 ff #keanu reeves ff

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crimescrimson · 6 months

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The Evil Within & Scenery [2/?]: Krimson City - The City of Chaos

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burnednotburied · 1 month

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Chapter 2: First Kill

AO3 Link | Chapter 1 Link

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to lovers; animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; cutting (not to self, but still); descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas; brief allusion to transphobia

Note: I know I’m not the only one who wanted to be the one holding the knife in that scene…

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The earth beneath Abby’s knees was wet. Rain cascaded all around her. When she was able to pull her eyelids open, she found that she was staring at the ground below her. It was dark, save for dim firelight.

Very slowly, she came to, her senses awakening one by one.

It took her far too long to realize that she was being dragged forward, toward a larger fire, with her arms tightly bound behind her back.

She was barely conscious when the arms that were carrying her suddenly let go, sending her crashing onto the ground with no way to cushion the fall. She let out a pained grunt and shifted, trying to get a better sense of where she was.

When she looked up, she found three bodies, hanged and gutted and very very dead.

Panic set in as she quickly got her knees beneath her, trying to get up. Instantly, the hands returned, roughly forcing her back on her face and holding her there, unyielding.

All too quickly, a noose was pulled over her head and tightened.

“No—” Abby pleaded, but the rope tightened further and she struggled as she was lifted off the ground.

She dangled and continued to struggle until something was pushed beneath her feet, just tall enough for her to stand on the tips of her toes and relieve some of the pressure on her throat.

Finally, she saw her attackers. She knew they would be Scars, but looking at them standing around her, watching…

She knew she was about to die.

There was a man and a woman directly in front of her, mutilated faces silently staring at her from beneath their hoods.

The woman removed hers and tilted her head, eying Abby.

She spoke. “It is time.” And then she took a step back. “If it is your will, Prophet, yield your righteous blade. Free this wretched Wolf from the evil within her.”

You stood in the shadows, unseen, previously unnoticed by the dangling girl. When the woman spoke to you, you stepped into the light, slowly moving toward them.

Where the other Scars wore trench coats, you were covered entirely in a long black cloak, your face concealed beneath a larger hood. Your movements were smooth and intentional. Self-assured.

In your right hand, there was a dagger, loosely held but steady in your grip.

As you stepped closer to Abby, she tried to focus. Tried to analyze you. But her airflow was severely restricted and any small movement from her could result in her losing her footing and falling off the bucket beneath her feet.

The two others stood on either of Abby’s sides, ready to intervene if she were to try anything… Not that she could do anything if she did try.

You were standing directly in front of her now, but she still couldn’t see anything beneath the hood through the rain and her faintly blurring vision.

She wasn’t sure what she expected. That morning when Isaac told her you existed, she hadn’t thought about what you might look like. She had seen the murals of the original Scar Prophet, and she always thought she looked like a regular woman. Just some random lady who became the leader of the worst cult ever.

Nothing could’ve prepared her for when you reached up with your free hand and pulled back your hood. Her eyebrows raised involuntarily.

You were beau—

You… You didn’t look like a Scar.

Your eyes met hers for just a moment before they swept downward, taking her in. You eyed her curiously, like you weren’t sure what to do with her.

Or maybe that was Abby just being hopeful.

The look on your face hardened, becoming determined. Your grip on the knife tightened. If any part of you had been hesitating, you’d just made up your mind.

Shit.

Fuck.

Yeah, she was definitely going to die.

“They are nested with sin,” you said, voice low. Your eyes were on Abby’s face, holding her gaze.

The other Scars watched as your eyes again went lower. You reached your hand toward Abby’s abdomen, lightly grazing before gripping the bottom hem of the shirt and pulling it up, exposing her bare stomach.

Abby knew that the lack of oxygen must’ve been making her lose her mind. She had to be sick. Because when she felt your fingers on her skin, she shivered. And she wanted to lean into the touch…

Until you pressed the blade there, harshly enough to emit a trickle of blood.

Abby hissed and looked away, gasping for breath and closing her eyes against the sharp sting of the knife.

You pushed the blade further.

“Free them,” you continued, “That they may know My—”

You were interrupted by the sound of a whistle, and you instantly paused.

Abby opened her eyes to watch as you breathed out. You were – what – relieved?

The other two ran off to respond to the whistle. You remained in place, dagger still held firmly against Abby’s stomach. You stared at it, and she stared at you, waiting for you to either finish the job or pull away.

You did neither, frozen in place. It seemed like you were also waiting for something.

Abby didn’t dare to move in the meantime.

The other Scars returned with two more, another man and a younger girl who was struggling against the men as they held her forcefully on both sides.

“Yara,” the Scar woman said smugly. You visibly winced upon hearing the name, still not turning around.

“Where is the other apostate?” the same woman asked. She leaned closer to the girl, who responded by spitting in the woman’s face.

There was a moment of silence before the woman uttered the words, “Clip her wings.”

“No!” You spoke out immediately, turning quickly and bringing your dagger with you. Abby gasped and took as deep a breath as she could, still struggling against the noose and her binds.

“Don’t.” Your voice was authoritative, causing the men who were holding the girl to pause.

The woman looked quickly at you, surprised at your outburst, before turning back to her henchmen. “I am your direct superior. Do as I said.”

“But she’s the—”

“Do. It.” She seethed.

“No,” you insisted again.

The men threw the girl on the ground anyway.

You ran forward, but the woman grasped you and forced you back. You were too preoccupied watching the girl on the ground to prevent the woman from taking the dagger from your hands. She tossed it aside, far out of reach.

“I knew it!” she said through gritted teeth. “I told Elder Constance you weren’t ready.”

It happened quickly.

One of the men pulled a hammer from his belt and violently smashed it down on the girl’s left arm as she screamed.

“Yara!” You tried to push past the other woman again, but again she held you back.

“They’re apostates! Traitors to your people and your cause. You should be giving the order to have them killed!”

The man brought the hammer down three more times.

“Stop! Please stop!” you cried, fighting against the woman.

No one listened to you.

The hammer was passed to the other man. He raised his hand, ready to shatter her other arm too, when two arrows from an unseen archer stopped him short.

One through the face. The other in the chest.

Everyone turned to look for the unknown assailant, except for the girl.

She grabbed the hammer from the dead Scar’s grasp and slammed the claw of it into the other man’s throat, killing him.

The Scar woman pulled her gun to shoot the girl, but another flying arrow drew her away. She faced the surrounding forest, shooting blindly several times, not knowing where the archer was hiding.

The girl stood, left arm mangled and limp at her left side, hammer firmly grasped at her right.

This whole time, Abby could do nothing but watch.

But the Scar woman moved just close enough for her to wrap her legs around her neck from behind. She squeezed the woman’s head between her thighs until she dropped her gun.

The girl ended the woman by ramming the claws of the hammer through the side of her head.

As the woman went limp, she fell from between Abby’s legs, sending her swinging through the air by her neck, unable to regain her balance on the bucket.

And Abby began to choke.

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The Elders referred to it as your “first kill”.

It was supposed to be the last trial before you fully stepped into your role as the Prophet.

You still weren’t sure of all that would entail, but after eight years in limbo, you were ready for something else. Quite literally anything else.

Years of memorizing the scriptures, learning to fight with multiple weapons (and without them), improving upon any and all skills the Elders deemed necessary for you to master, each one seemingly more arbitrary than the last. Hours upon hours upon hours of prayer and meditation. And a whole lot of nothing.

You could kill a Wolf or two if it meant your life would become anything more than what it had been for nearly a decade. If it meant things would be different.

And if it meant you could help your friends.

You knew everyone was searching for Yara and L. Hunting them down.

You’d heard through the quiet whispers of your servants at Sanctuary that he had cut his hair and told his mother that his name was Lev.

He had no choice but to run, and Yara went too.

You were so afraid for them.

And yet part of you wished they had taken you with them.

You weren’t sure if you still got to call them your friends. You hadn’t been permitted to spend time with anyone informally or without purpose since the morning of your scarring ceremony, so you hadn’t spoken to them since then.

You should’ve been able to be there for Lev. And Yara. You shouldn’t have been locked away.

But maybe once your training was complete and you were officially the Prophet – in authority, not just by name – you could protect them.

Maybe something good could come from your circumstances after all.

That would make it all feel worth it.

Emily had taken on training you in hand-to-hand combat some months ago.

You had a strange relationship with her.

On one hand, she was the only person who didn’t treat you like you were some mystical, cosmically-chosen goddess. She usually treated you like you were just another person.

But, on the other hand, she was an ass. So that was frustrating to deal with.

Still, there had always been a greater sense of normalcy between the two of you than there had been with anyone else in Haven.

The Elders decided that Emily would be the one to take you to the mainland for your first kill.

There were some disagreements about how large the hunting party should be.

“The people need to see Her as a conqueror. They need to know that she’s a capable fighter,” some of the Elders argued. But it was ultimately agreed upon that a smaller group would be safer. It would draw less attention from your enemies.

So Emily chose two of her best men, and your group set out.

The mainland was not what you had expected, and nothing like the island, but you were able to navigate it well enough.

Emily brought you to see Martyr’s Gate for the first time.

Prayer had long since become a mindless chore of yours. You rarely did it in earnest.

Today, you did though.

You prayed for strength. Because the closer you came to the killing, the less sure you were that you would be able to go through with it.

The idea of killing while fighting, either in your own defense or to defend another, was one thing. You were sure you could do that if the time came.

But this was different. It wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t fair. And it wasn’t a true display of combat skills or strategy or anything else you’d been training for.

Emily explained that the plan was to “catch a wolf, string ‘em up, and cut ‘em open.”

The thought made you sick.

In a rare moment of compassion, Emily put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed lightly. “They would do the same thing to you, Prophet,” she said, looking into your eyes, “the second they got the chance.”

You tried to steel yourself, knowing that, just like everything else in your life, you didn’t have much of a choice.

When the time came, you weren’t even the one who “caught” the Wolf. The men had her pinned down and Emily knocked her out while you just stood off to the side, blinking, trying not to vomit.

As she laid still on the ground, you couldn’t help but to examine the girl whose life you would soon be taking.

She was big. And very strong. Strong in a way you honestly didn’t know a woman could be.

You wondered if all Wolves looked like this. You doubted it.

She wore a black sleeveless shirt, so you could see her arms, and they were incredible. Your eyes lingered for longer than you should’ve allowed yourself to.

Her dark blonde hair was long and braided.

She was covered in cuts and bruises. Definitely a soldier. Probably a very good one.

Your eyes traveled over her lightly freckled face, down her long nose—

Emily interrupted your train of thought. “I think I’ve heard of this one before… Never come across her myself though,” she said, joining you in eying the newly unconscious Wolf. “She has killed countless Seraphites. Numbers of Your people, dead at her hands.”

You felt a flash of anger upon hearing this and berated yourself for having been looking at her so… admiringly.

How many people did you know whose role of soldier was chosen for them, just as your role of Prophet had been chosen for you. They hadn’t asked for it any more than you did. And they had been killed for it.

Many of them by this woman.

Suddenly, the idea of killing her didn’t seem so impossible.

“It will be our honor to take care of the dirty work on your behalf, Prophet,” Emily said. “The only thing you need to worry about is this…” She handed you the dagger as the men dragged the Wolf away, into the forest.

You followed behind, pulling your hood over your head as it began to rain.

One of the two men split off, saying he thought he saw something and wanted to investigate. Emily nodded and took the Wolf’s arm from him, taking on half of her weight.

Once in the clearing, you watched as the Wolf regained consciousness, just in time for Emily and one of the men to put the noose around her neck and lift her off the ground.

You watched as she struggled to catch her breath and balanced on the bucket that Emily had shoved beneath her feet.

You watched, hidden beneath your hood, as she saw you for the first time, standing in the shadows, and her eyes widened.

You listened to her gasps and grunts as she struggled against her binds as you approached.

You pulled back your hood and looked into her eyes. Saw a living, breathing human being who had done nothing to you and could do nothing to defend herself against you.

And once again you weren’t sure if you could actually do it.

But you pushed ahead, just as you always do, and did what was expected of you.

Until the whistle had cut you off.

Yara had been captured, and you weren’t able to stop them from destroying her arm.

In the fight that ensued, you were useless, standing off to the side in utter shock as arrows, bullets, and hammers flew, everything happening too quickly for you to be able to react.

When the Wolf grabbed Emily with her legs and crushed her between her thighs, you couldn’t help but note the fact that you had been standing much closer to the Wolf, and for much longer…

But Emily was dead and the Wolf was choking, now dangling freely with nothing to stand on.

“Yara!” You heard him before you saw him.

He came come running out of the of the tree line, pausing when he saw the hanging Wolf.

And then he saw you, still frozen. Still useless.

“Prophet,” he breathed, bowing his head. The genuine sincerity in the gesture disheartened you, but you were glad to see him alive and unharmed, so you gave him a small smile and a nod.

His eyes stayed on you for just a moment longer before he went to check on Yara, quietly whispering her name. She waved him away, her arm limp and face pained.

“The Demons are coming,” he said, loud enough for you both to hear.

For some reason, that was what got you moving. You found the dagger on the ground where Emily had thrown it and rushed over to rope that held the Wolf.

“What are you doing?” Lev asked.

“Cutting her down.”

“She’s one of them,” he said.

“Lev,” Yara said, shaking her head.

He went quiet, watching as you quickly cut the rope.

The Wolf fell to the ground with a loud, painful thud and immediately began coughing and gasping for air.

You walked over to her, hesitant. You had been seconds away from disemboweling her just a few minutes ago. Maybe she would turn around and kill you the second she was free.

But you had already cut her down and Demons were on the way, so you knelt on the ground behind her and carefully cut away the ties that held her hands.

The moment she was able, she used her own hands to loosen and remove the noose, sitting up quickly and looking around for something.

Her eyes went to Emily and she crawled over, grasping the hammer lodged in her head and yanking it out.

With one hand to her throat, she stood.

You couldn’t believe she was standing so quickly after what just happened to her, but she was. And you knew that if she decided to attack you, you would not win that fight. Even now, in her weakened state and despite your years of training, you wouldn’t stand a chance against her.

But she didn’t come after you.

A twig snapped in the surrounding forest. She turned towards that, ready to face whatever came out first.

Yara stood, grabbing a knife that belonged to one of Emily’s men.

Lev had an arrow notched in his bow, ready to fly.

You gripped the dagger tighter in your hand and tried to remember everything you’d been taught about fighting Demons.

“Watch your backs,” said the Wolf.

You supposed you’d get to have your first kill tonight after all.

#the wolf and the prophet #my writing #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic

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torialefay · 5 months

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My Grimoire 🪄 Masterlist

started: jan 05, 2024

last update: may 22, 2024

total works: 56

i'm so glad you're here! 🌟 if you have any requests, please scroll to the bottom for more guidelines. if you'd just like to chat in general, send me a message any time. i love meeting new people on here! 🤭

Series:

☀️ Everyday Idol 🌙 (series): bangchan x reader (maybe, hehe u will have to see); jungkook x reader (also a maybe bc i’m evil); fluff, smut, angst; ONGOING

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

✨bangchan as your boyfriend (astrology series); bangchan x reader; COMPLETE

Pt 1: Venus in Scorpio pt. 1

Venus in Scorpio pt. 2

Pt 2: Sun in Libra

Pt 3: Mars in Sagittarius

Pt 4: Moon in Libra

Pt 5: Mercury in Libra

One Shots/Drabbles:

🗡️ The Eaten Heart 🍷 (oneshot; smut)

📞 “Bye Basket” 💬 (oneshot; fluff)

I Think You're Really Pretty Too 🤭 (oneshot; smut)

🪞Mirror Image🪞 (oneshot; smut)

Do You Want to Try? (oneshot; smut)

Morning Sex with Chan (oneshot; fluffy smut)

🎶 Dating Chan Sounds Like 🎶 (fluff/angst playlist)

Slow Morning/ Doing Chan’s Hair (oneshot; fluff)

Mom & Dad of KPop (Met Gala as Chan's girlfriend) (lil drabble; fluff)

Take It Like A Real Man (oneshot; smut)

Series:

✨minho as your boyfriend (astrology series); minho x reader; running now

Pt 1: 🗝️ Sun in Scorpio ♠️

Pt 2: Moon in Sagittarius 🚩🚩

One Shots/Drabbles:

✨ you want a baby, huh? (one shot; smut)

✨ Whatever Makes You Feel Better. Period. (oneshot; smut)

✨What is Lee Know like when he is jealous? (drabble)

✨ One Hell of a Workout 💣

✨changbin as your boyfriend (astrology series); changbin x reader; COMING SOON!!!

✨🍭 Don't Cry, I Thought You Liked It 🍭 (hyunjin oneshot; smut)

✨you know whose you are (oneshot; smut)

✨hyunjin as your boyfriend (astrology series); hyunjin x reader; COMING SOON!!!

✨Jealous Sex with Han (one shot; smut)

✨ Praise for the Princess 🎀 (one shot; smut)

✨jisung as your boyfriend (astrology series); jisung x reader; COMING SOON!!!

✨Home Will Always Be Here Too 🏠📍 (oneshot; smut)

✨ Say It Right (oneshot; smut)

✨felix as your boyfriend (astrology series); felix x reader; COMING SOON!!!

✨🍷 I Want Your Lips 🌪️ (oneshot; smut)

✨seungmin as your boyfriend (astrology series); seungmin x reader; COMING SOON!!!

✨public sex with jeongin 🤫 (oneshot; smut)

✨"What Did You Wish For?" 🎂 (oneshot; smut)

✨jeongin as your boyfriend (astrology series); jeongin x reader; COMING SOON!!!

✨SKZ's Reaction to Your Drunken Confession🍾 (ot8 drabble; fluff)

✨ SKZ's Reaction to Having a Pet in the Bedroom During Sex? (request, ot8 drabble)

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Natal Chart Readings 🔮

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Random SKZ Blurbs/Requests

✨ Chan in a relationship/ would he be an asshole? (astrology)

✨ Does Chan have a daddy/corruption kink? && Does he have a caregiver complex?

✨ What type of person does Chan need, and who can he not be with? (Non-astro, just my opinions)

✨ Lil drabble over “The Eaten Heart” from my fav lil 🦇 anon <3

✨ Drabble on Chan's "Eternity" SKZ Record

✨ How does Chan act when he gets jealous/possessive?

✨ Channie overstimming you until you cry :(

✨ What is Chan like in a relationship when his s/o has a bad day & gets clingier than usual?

✨ Christopher cringey loserboy drabble

My Baby Anons:

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🌙 About Me ✨ (if you're interested)

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tofics · 5 months

Text

Out Of This World

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x fem!Reader x Dean Winchester

Summary: You and the Mikaelsons are fighting a powerful witch that's trying to take over New Orleans. The only solution: banishment to another universe. However, the spell goes... wrong, and it's not the witch that ends up in another universe, but you. - At the same time, over a thousand miles away in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm goes off: a rift has opened up. The Winchesters and their angel partners in crime decide to investigate. What will they find when they get to New Orleans?

Word count: 4949 words

Warnings: cursing, violence, murder, mention of blood, allusions of panic attacks.

You skidded around the corner, barely missing a stack of cardboard boxes by an inch. You jumped around it, almost flying past the pile. Your blood was rushing in your ears, your heart almost jumping out of your chest, pumping the adrenaline through your body. Behind you, you heard the evil snicker of your persecutor, hard on your heels. Before you knew it, you reached a wall that cut off your path abruptly. A dead end. You were cornered.

Slowly, you turned around. There she was, a sneer cutting across her face. Despite the few feet between you, you could see the glint in her dark eyes. Again, the witch laughed triumphantly.

"Really? An evil laugh for an evil witch? How terribly cliché," you pressed out between two wheezes. There was a sharp stitch on your right side. Running had never been your thing anyway. You leaned down and rested your hands on your knees while trying to catch your breath. Once this is over, you really have to get into better shape, you told yourself.

The witch was still sneering at you, taking her sweet time to make a move on you. You could imagine that she was enjoying this thoroughly. What started as a challenge for power, trying to dethrone Niklaus and his siblings as rulers of the French Quarter, had resulted in a bloody, messy, magical war. For months, she had been threatening the Mikaelsons and everyone that stood by them. Where threats didn't work, death followed. Quite a few of the Mikaelson's closest followers and allies had lost their lives to the woman in front of you, and yet, you were sure to rank high on her win list: as Elijah's girlfriend, she'd probably enjoy your death a lot more than any of her previous kills. This particular death would strike them hard. Shake them to the core. Possibly - hopefully - destabilize them to a point where they'd fall apart from within and she could easily pluck them apart, one by one, until all of the siblings where gone.

"Not even a true Mikaelson, and yet you're just as snarky as the rest of them. What an obnoxious trait. So full of yourself, all of you. It's a disease. But, not to worry. I'll have that cured in no time," the witch quipped back at you, with so much sweetness in her voice that it made you gag.

"Who's full of herself now?" you muttered to yourself. The sorceress in front of you tsk-ed at you and got into casting stance. She reached into her cloak and brought a fistful of something to her mouth before blowing into her closed fist. Black dust spewed out from between her fingers and hung in the air in front of her like black glitter. You straightened at the sight of her palms turning towards you, the first few words of a spell that was sure to bring you death (and a painful one at that) slowly meandering out from between her lips like a snake, inching itself towards its victim relentlessly.

Okay, feel free to intervene any second now, you thought, trying not to glance around for the rescue that you knew was coming. This plan had been weeks in the making and you weren't about to foil it by giving anything away by accident. Soft dark clouds, looking like droplets of black ink in water were forming around you, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Your eyes began to water as the dark vapor drifted closer and started to engulf you. It stung in your nose, giving off a terrible sulfur stench. You tried your best not to inhale it, but soon you were completely enveloped in the black mist. The first breath burned a straight trail down into your lungs and set them on fire. You began to cough, grasping at your throat, slowly choking on the dark magic the witch was blanketing you with.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire, both from the growing lack of oxygen and the vapor that was eating itself into you. Your legs started to give out underneath you and you fell to your knees as you gasped for air.

Any... second... now... you thought, every word feeling heavy in your brain, as if every word weighed a ton. Just as your vision started to flicker and blur, you registered movement out of the corner of your eye. Something whisked past you from behind you at top speed. You heard an "oomph", followed by the sound of a body being smacked to the ground. Almost instantaneously, the black vapor that surrounded you fizzled away and fresh air finally streamed into your lungs.

You wheezed and sputtered, now on your hands and knees as snot dripped out of your mouth and mixed with your tears and spit on the ground. You were relieved to finally be breathing oxygen again, your lungs however still felt like they were on fire and your throat was about as dry as sand paper.

While you were catching your breath, a lot of action was happening in front of you. Klaus had tackled the witch to the ground and Elijah had shackled her, rendering her immobilized. He grabbed her by her collar and dragged her up against the left wall of the alley. Meanwhile, Freya came out from behind the boxes you had almost run into, hands up and feverishly mumbling, casting the incantation that was supposed to free you all of the witch's evil.

You felt a hand on your back first, and then you were lifted to your feet. Hayley was on your left and Jackson was to your right; both of them had an arm slipped through yours to hold you steady. They shot you concerned looks as you were still struggling for breath. You weakly smiled back as a gesture of I'm okay, don't worry about me.

Freya continued casting in front of you. Her voice grew louder and stronger with each word. Despite clearly being outnumbered, the evil sorceress laughed, seemingly amused by Freya's casting.

"Silence." Elijah's eyes were dark with fury as he ordered the witch to quiet, but her laugh just turned shrill before Klaus struck her across the face. Her laugh briefly sputtered as she sunk down, forced to her knees by the force of the blow. Blood dripped from her split lip and smeared across her teeth. It turned her sneer into a bloody grimace.

"You're making a grave mistake, Niklaus Mikaelson."

Now it was Niklaus' turn to laugh.

"I doubt it, Athea." He bend down on one knee in front of her. "On the contrary, actually. You know, I've got my fair share of enemies in this town. But even they have agreed that we must rid this beautiful city of this plague." Niklaus grabbed Athea by the jaw and locked it in place so she was eye to eye with him. "Now, since we cannot seem to kill you - a very annoying obstacle, I must say - we had to find a different way to get rid of you, didn't we."

Freya started to stumble, the weight of the casting taking its toll on her. Immediately, Elijah was by her side and put a hand on her shoulder. It steadied her in more than just one way. She was reaching the pinnacle of the incantation and needed her brothers' power to cast the final piece of it.

"Klaus? Less talking, more killing?!" Hayley called out from next to you. Klaus smiled in return and got back on his feet to join his brother at Freya's side.

"Right you are, little wolf. I so wish we could drag this out, but alas, time is of the essence. Farewell, Athea. You will not plague this world ever again." Klaus put his hand on Freya's open shoulder with a content smile on his face.

Freya started on the last few sentences of the spell. The air in the alley started to flicker like heat over pavement on a hot day. The hair on the back of your neck started to stand up as you felt a buzzing sensation all around you, as if someone had charged the air with electricity.

Then, Freya spoke the final words. For a moment, everything in your vision seemed to sharpen. It was eerily quiet.

Then, a massive beam of light erupted from all around you, turning the world into nothing but a bright white.

Over a thousand miles away from New Orleans, in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm went off. The buzzing sound vibrated through the entire place, accompanied by the red flashes of warning lights.

"Oh, what now," Dean Winchester growled. He had just begun to sort through his equipment that he'd need for the next few hours: a whole day of working on the cars in the garage of the bunker. Throw in some beers and some rock music, and you had Dean's favorite kind of day off. They'd just come back from a hunt the day before and he had been looking forward to fixing what needed fixing and mending what needed mending. He went into auto-mode when working on a car; it took his mind off things and allowed him to relax.

Dean put the wrench down that he was holding and wiped his hands on the cloth stuck in his waistline. He sighed. "Can't get one damn day of peace around here," he mumbled to himself and left the garage to head to the war room.

When he arrived, he found his brother Sam and both the angels Castiel and Jack already gathered around the map table. As he approached it, he could make out a blinking light at the south of the United States.

"What is it?" Dean peered at the speckle of light blinking feverishly on the map. Sam answered him. "It's... a rift." He looked around at the men gathered the table before he scratched his neck. "I guess the update does work. This is the first one to pop up since we tweaked the settings. At least the first one to be registered."

"Where is it?" Jack, the younger of the angels chimed in. He leaned forward to get a better look at the map. "From what I can tell... New Orleans." Sam replied after checking a few parameters. There were a few seconds of silence between the men before Dean cleared his throat. "Alright." He rubbed a hand over his face as if trying to wipe the exhaustion away that was written all over it, but to no avail. He looked exhausted and worn down. "Guess we have no choice but to check it out. Cas, get your things, we're leaving in thirty. Sam, you stay here with Jack and keep an eye on the table, 'case few more of these turn up. We'll call you if we need back up." Sam nodded and sat down to check through the table's settings while Jack slowly sunk into the chair next to him. There was a hint of disappointment in the young angel's eyes, but he didn't disagree with Dean. He knew that the older Winchester didn't fully trust him and that he had to keep his head down to earn that trust back.

Castiel and Dean left the war room in direction of their respective rooms to gather their belongings for the trip. Once they were out of earshot, Castiel leaned over to Dean. "What do you think this means?" Dean shook his head in response. "I've got no idea, but it can't be good."

The explosion of light faded just as quickly as it had started. Your eyes took a moment to adjust. Black spots danced in your field of vision and there was a penetrating ringing sound in your ears. You moaned and held your head as you stumbled around while your body tried to recover. Slowly, the ringing faded away to a barely noticeable hum and your vision cleared up too.

Once you could clearly see, you stood up straight. Your brain took a moment to register what your subconscious had picked up on within nano-seconds: something was wrong. Where just a moment ago Elijah, Freya and Klaus had stood, there was no one. Hayley and Jackson were gone from your side as well. Even the witch wasn't there. Athea's disappearance was somewhat comforting - after all, that had been the goal all along - but your stomach churned at the sight of the empty spots where your family and friends should have been.

Did the spell transport all of them? you wondered while temporarily frozen in place. It was like your body had to catch up to what your brain was processing. A slow sensation of panic crept up your spine and filled your limbs with an unpleasant tingling sensation. This hadn't been part of the plan. They weren't all supposed to disappear. Just Athea. "Okay, breathe," you told yourself and forced yourself to follow your own order. You took a few deep breaths and unclenched the fists that your hands had formed into, stretching out your fingers a couple of times before you quickly shook your shoulders loose. You can figure this out.

For a lack of a better option, you head towards the entrance of the alley. Perhaps they got thrown back by the power of the spell, you mused. After all, you'd been further away from Athea and the siblings. That didn't explain Hayley and Jackson's disappearance, but you figured you had to start somewhere.

Your legs were still a bit wobbly, presumably from both the near-death experience of choking on magical vapor as well as being light-bombed. You took it slow, taking your time with each step until you were sure that you wouldn't keel over. The extra time it cost you to reach the entry of the alleyway gave you plenty opportunity to inspect your surroundings for any clues about where your people might have disappeared to. You looked around for any signs of foul play while the never-ending feeling that something, something just wasn't right nagged at you. Something was off.

That's when it hit you.

Your stomach lurched as you reached the entrance of the alley where you'd carried out your big plan and you realized what exactly was wrong. There had been spray paint on the wall behind where Klaus had tackled Athea to the floor. Nothing groundbreaking, just a tag someone had quickly sprayed on the bricks. Now, however, the wall was bare. It was still the same old brick wall, covered in specks of dirt here and there, but there was no spray paint on it. The stack of boxes that you'd almost knocked over was also missing. It should have been to your left, but it wasn't. In fact, there wasn't a single card-box in sight. The alleyway wasn't exactly 'clean', but it wasn't nearly as packed with litter and trash as it had been just a few moments ago.

"No... no, no, no, no." Your whisper grew more panicked with each syllable. The faint humming sound in your ears picked back up as your blood began to rush through your body again. Panic rose in your chest and tightened its grip until you felt like you couldn't breathe, oxygen be damned.

The spell had worked. They had successfully sent someone to an alternate universe, just like they had planned. It just wasn't Athea who'd been transported from one universe to another.

It was you.

Elijah experienced the finale of their plan take place on various levels. He heard Freya cast the last piece of the incantation. He felt it, too, the energy that flowed through his and his brothers arm into Freya, their conduct for the spell. Once his sister spoke the final words he felt a massive tug on his lifeforce, taking a piece so big that if he wasn't immortal, he was sure he wouldn't have survived it. They had known that the spell they had found was ancient, dark magic. The scripture had made vague points about how costly it was, but they had been sure that with his and Klaus' energy combined, they'd be able to supply Freya with all the mana that was required for the incantation to work. Still, the final piece of the cut into him with a kind of force that he'd never experienced before. It forced him to his knees and weakened his senses all at once.

Elijah didn't know if his vision blurred or if it was the air around him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Klaus go down as well. Almost the same second the energy was sucked out of him, he felt it in the air around him, charged and ready to explode at the slightest spark. He moaned, unable to move. His hand was stuck to his sister's shoulder through her magic. It felt like it had fused to Freya and they were now linked together for eternity, hand to shoulder and shoulder to hand. The energy around him grew denser and pressed on him, it trickled over his skin and left sizzling trails.

Elijah's muscles spasmed under the electric force and he groaned. A buzzing sound had built in the back of his head and was now stretching toward his frontal lobe, where it pressed against the bone of his skull from the inside. He thought his head might explode until suddenly, everything became very still, like the quiet before a storm. It lasted for about a nano-second until the energy that had condensed around him blew up and drenched the world in light until all he could see was white.

When he came to, Elijah was on the ground. Pieces of pebble were piercing through his skin where it had become exposed from his suit shifting. The buzzing sound had given away to a ringing in his ears and the growing pressure on his skull was gone. Instead it was replaced by a booming hammering sensation that sent rhythmic thrills of pain through his head. He groaned and shifted his weight so he could sit up. His eyes were still sensitive to the light and he had to partially shield them so that he could see anything, despite the light in the alley having returned to normal.

He first saw Freya. She was down on her hands and knees, shaking and panting. Next to her was Niklaus, who seemed to be recovering from the same ordeal as Elijah; the spell had knocked him out flat as well.

Elijah's gaze drifted forward. He felt the area under his eyes trickle as anger shot through him. There, hunched against the wall, lay Athea. She seemed to have been knocked back into the bricks by the force of the spell as blood was running down from the back of her head. Elijah smelled it, but it wasn't the reason for his vamp face to come to the surface. It was his anger, mixed with frustration. Clearly, the spell had worked. They'd paid the price for sure. He couldn't be killed, but he felt like he was just about as close to dying as he could be as an immortal.

So why was she still here? What had gone wrong?

He rose to his feet, fueled by anger, frustration and worry. Athea may temporarily be blacked out, but she would soon come to and he knew what she'd do then. He staggered over to the witch and grabbed her by the hair to pull her close. He was tempted to rip into her throat right then and there, to watch her lifeforce spill out of her and form a puddle beneath her useless body. But he knew it was no use. The Mikaelsons had learned soon enough that Athea had set herself up good and made sure that she couldn't be killed. Not for long, anyway. She always came back.

Elijah snarled and pushed her head back, appalled by the woman in front of him. She'd caused him and his family so much pain over the last few months and he wanted to see her pay for it. This spell had been their last hope. He had no idea what he was going to do now. How he was going to protect his family, or Hayley. How he was going to protect you.

"What... what happened?" Freya coughed behind him and crawled over to them.

"It didn't work! That's what happened!" Klaus shouted, his voice full of fury. His brother had always had a temper, but this time, Elijah felt it was justified.

"It did work, Klaus. You felt it. The spell worked. I don't understand why she's still here." Freya crawled closer to inspect Athea's unconscious body.

"Clearly, it bloody didn't! This was all for nothing!" Klaus' rage was boiling and he took it out on the wall in front of him. His fist left a cracked imprint on the bricks.

"Niklaus," Elijah warned. Niklaus' anger may have been justified, but there was no time for antics. They had to come up with a plan and they had to do it now.

"Elijah?" Hayley's voice was tinged with fear. He began to turn around to console her. "It's alright, Hayley, we'll find a w-" He abruptly stopped when he spotted the gap between Hayley and Jackson. Both of them were still standing as if they'd just been holding you up a second ago, each of them with a raised arm that had been looped through yours. Elijah got up and walked over to them as if in trance.

"Where's Y/N?" he asked. Neither Hayley nor Jackson answered him. They had no answer. Elijah rolled his sleeves up as if getting ready for battle. It was a subconscious move, a displacement activity. He felt the gnawing feeling of panic set in in his stomach.

"Hayley. Where's Y/N?" he repeated in a calm, quiet demeanor. His auto-pilot was taking over. Hayley looked at him and he saw the shock and fear in her eyes. "She... Elijah, she disappeared..." she whispered as tears welled in her eyes.

Elijah stumbled back as if her words had struck him in the face.

"No... no..." Freya was coming up behind him and stared at the spot between the two wolfs where you had been standing just a few moments ago. "But... that's impossible! It's not possible! The spell was customized to Athea, not Y/N!"

"Freya." Although Elijah said her name like a statement, the unspoken question hung in the air. His sister turned to look at him. Fear and confusion were battling for dominance on her face. "Elijah, I don't know what happened. It's not possible. None of the words I said even remotely referred to Y/N. I have no idea how..." She trailed off. Then laughter came from behind them.

"You fools! I told you you were making a grave mistake! Ha ha ha!" Athea cackled as they turned around to her. Blood was still running from her mouth and her face appeared sunken in, with dark circles forming under her eyes. She continued to laugh while she occasionally sputtered and coughed up more blood.

Klaus was the first to react. He whooshed over to her side and grabbed her by the scalp. "What did you do, you useless bitch?" he snarled at her, but Athea just kept on laughing.

"Did you really think I was going to walk into your trap like that?" Athea sneered at Klaus as a red line trickled from her mouth. Again she coughed and spat out more blood.

"No... how...?" Freya's eyes widened in shock as she registered the meaning behind Athea's words. She'd known all along what they had been up to and had somehow... what? Manipulated the spell? "A spell of this character can't be manipulated! She doesn't have the power! I needed you two to even try to pull it off and even then we weren't sure it was gonna work. There's no way she could have altered it on her own." Freya was thinking out loud while she paced around.

"Then how did she do it? Did she have help?" Jackson's rusty voice cut in. He looked around as if he anticipated a line of enemies to come out of hiding at any second and attack them.

"I don't think so. A circle to back her up would have needed to be massive and they'd have needed to be physically attached to her, like Klaus and Elijah touched me. No, she..." Again, Freya trailed off and hesitated for a moment, then she quickly walked over to Athea.

Their enemy witch looked worse by the second. Her skin had taken on a greyish tone and the circles under her eyes had turned a dark purple. Her face, however, still had a stoic, defiant expression all over it. Freya knelt in front of her and grabbed the sorceress by the shoulder. "How did you do it? How did you hijack the spell? That's the only way you could've done it!" she shouted and shook the woman in front of her. The commotion caused Athea to cough again and blood splattered across her chest. She gave Freya a crimson red smile. "Wouldn't you like to know, Freya Mikaelson."

Klaus wrapped a hand around Athea's throat and squeezed slightly. "Tell us what you did, or I'll rip your head off right here and now." His fingers pressed into her throat with more force now, visibly obstructing the witch's airflow. She gasped for air but still... smiled. "Don't waste your strength on me, Niklaus. My time has come anyway." She gasped and coughed again before she continued. "I knew what you had planned and I knew I didn't have enough power to stop the spell. I knew my time in this world was coming to an end, but I wasn't going to go without a fight." She wheezed and the air in her lungs rattled and blubbered. "What did you do!" Klaus shook her by the throat as his voice echoed through the alleyway.

"I hijacked the spell," Athea replied hoarsely and gave another of her bloody smiles. There was a sense of triumph in voice. "But how?" Freya implored. She had no idea how a spell of this character could be manipulated, let alone hijacked. Unless... Athea cackled. "A good witch never reveal's all her secrets. Isn't that what the mortals say?" Klaus tightened his grip on Athea's throat and pushed her up the wall. Her entire weight was now on Klaus' grip around her neck; her feet dangled a few inches above the ground. "There's nothing good about you, you old crone," he growled. "Enough chitchat. Tell us what you did, or I'll rip you apart limb by limb, no matter how many times it takes until you sing." The witch didn't reply. She gasped for air, but her hands didn't claw at Klaus' hand like any other person might've done. Below them, Freya knelt down and inspected the ground. She soon found what she was looking for and rubbed a pinch of the black powder between her fingers.

"Klaus." The hybrid didn't relent his grip on Athea's throat, so Freya started again. "Klaus, it's no use. She's dying anyway." "Whatever do you mean?" Elijah approached the three of them from behind. Hayley and Jackson followed on his heel. "Just what I said. She's dying." His sister held out her hand to him and showed him the black stains. "When I was still with Daliah, she once told me about the myth about the fruit of the tree of life. Supposedly you could use its dried remnants to redirect any spell or curse thrown at you with ease, but no one had found a fruit in centuries. It was presumed to have gone extinct." Freya gestured over to Athea as she continued. "I have no idea how she got one... but this is what she must have used to redirect the spell to Y/N."

"Okay, great, that's one question answered. But why is she dying? I thought she couldn't die?" Hayley defensively crossed her arms in front of her chest. "She can't, not in a traditional way. But this spell is so old and so powerful, it overwrites any other spell. It becomes the default setting. Any power that she invested into enchantments to secure her life must have been redirected into our incantation, to uphold her end of the bargain, so to say. She traded Y/N for herself. Even if she only hijacked the spell and didn't try to counter it, it must have cost massive amounts of mana." The Mikaelson witch paused and briefly looked down. "So much, in fact, that all of her previous enchantments weren't enough. So she's paying with her life."

"Aren't you a clever little witch. It's a pity Dahlia lost control over you. We could have benefited from a clever one like y-" Athea was abruptly cut off when Elijah zoomed over to her and ripped off her head. It fell to the ground with a soft thump and rolled a couple of times before coming to a halt a few feet away from its previous body.

"Freya," Elijah said as he got his handkerchief out and cleaned a few bloody stains from his hand. "Tell me you know how to bring Y/N back, now that you've discovered the reason for this... mishap." The threat in his voice wasn't meant for his sister. He'd stared at the bodiless head on the ground as he had spoken.

"That's just it, brother. I have no idea."

A/N: It's here! I'm so excited! 🥳 This was so much fun to write and I can't wait to get started on the next chapter. This one got kind of long, but I felt that that was necessary to set the whole story up properly. The next chapter(s) might not be as long 😅 Depending on how much time I can find in the next days it should be up by next week.

Continue reading here: Chapter 2

Feedback is greatly appreciated! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist ☺️

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@vicmc624 @foreverrandomwritings

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