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#which happens a Lot. usually it's a mix of the latter two to my understanding

kuliak · 10 months

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Below the break: a way-too-deep explanation of the behavior in this patch, and an alternate version:

Hey there! It's been a minute since I've had something to share. Life has been pretty crazy these last couple of weeks. Honestly, it may be spotty the next month and a half or so, but I want to make and share things when I can. It's one of the best things.

This patch has a lot going on. The first half is pretty simple: further exploring pseudo-complex oscillator setups with Banshee Reach and Ts-L, and compelling harmonic compositions with Bloom and Bard Quartet. A lot of this section is just "what I've done in the past, but better. I'm finally using a buffered mult to keep the carrier and modulator oscillators with a consistent ratio instead of half-assing it. Ts-L's sine is modulating BR's frequency, and wavefold is going to PWM - both attenuated to not drive the sound crazy. Envelope controlling a VCA on varishape output into Ikarie, which I now have FM'd by BR's sine output. It's all about the relatedness in this format after all!

I do want to say that as fun as it is patching up such behaviors, I totally understand the appeal of ready-to-go complex oscillator modules. This just eats up cables and space.

Now, the fun and more compelling part: the rhythm going on here. This patch was inspired by a conversation with my friend about wishing Data Bender had a "repeats" gate output, like Mimeophone and Nautilus do. As we talked things out, we figured that you could probably use some kind of boosted envelope follower on a mult of the output to create a gate, and friends, it works! Mostly.

I'm using a stackable to run the right channel of Data Bender's output into Strega's gain circuit and envelope follower, then sending that to the trigger in (1) of Tyso Daiko to trigger the kick. Now, this doesn't work every time. But I've found that with Data Bender in Micro Mode with saturation at about noon, it creates interesting sub-rhythms at quite a handful of time/repeats combinations. You can get it more or less reliable by scrubbing through the buffer (break knob in Micro mode) but there's no one setting there that works for every combo.

Since the signal needs to be just repeats (100% wet) to get this to happen, I had to use the full mixing capabilities of Cockpit as well: Desmodus (receiving the signal from Ikarie) is multed to both Cockpit and the Data Bender inputs. Drums of course go directly to the mixer as well. Of course, this is working as intended, but the nice thing about mix controls is I can usually be lazy and run a single voice through a single fx chain.

The initial experiments sounded great, and got me thinking about how much better this could sound with some additional percussion which is related but not so closely constrained by the DB parameters. I quickly threw this together, using IDUM as a rhythm generator by feeding it a clock and setting it to break mode at 100% probability. Additional percussion comes from Akemie's Taiko and Daiko(2) through Sinc Bucina (the latter two are on separate sequences for more complex sounds)

Honestly, I don't think this sounds as good in this recording, but has the potential to sound far better. In the primary recording featured above, I'm really playing the parameters as I feel out what does and doesn't work. It's constantly changing, but with oh-so-many sweet spots. With the added percussion though, it feels stagnant so much faster, and I'm overall performing the patch less. With a few more things added, a bit more variation programmed into the percussion voices, and a more complex pattern, I think this concept could far surpass the original. Sadly, it's already getting late and I need to un-patch to clear the desk for work tomorrow, so that's that for now. I'm certain to revisit the core concept in the near future, and I hope to really take it to the heights it deserves.

...So, why did I write so much for this patch? Part of it is that it's been so long, and I love writing these patch notes, so I need to make up for lost time. The other part is that this isn't just some normal patch, or more fundamentals - this is an original patch programming idea that I was through from conception to execution. It's so satisfying, and exciting, and everything I love about this format. I want to, and will, do more of it, and it's so exciting that I'll keep getting better.

#modular synth #modular synthesis #synths #eurorack #gearporn #glitch #glitch art #glitch music #music #electronic music #idm music #patch notes #long post #flashing gif #gif #aesthetic

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mcrmadness · 2 years

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I'm currently doing some maths exercises because of my school, and this exercise is all about statistics. I don't know what is it with repetitive numbers or characters (as in letters or numbers), but I find it so so difficult to see them.

For example, this exercise uses Excel and has small numbers (1-5) on two rows and the exercise asks me to count how many times each number exist in that table. And holy shit is that difficult for me to SEE. Like, finding the numbers between each other is so difficult. I actually had to choose all cells with the same numbers and change the colors of those cells just so that I am even able to tell where's what and make the counting easier.

These exercises are also all about median and mode and... fuck, the median one is so difficult because there are so many similar numbers in a row that I just stop being able to see them once there are more than 3. I have to count them by pointing at them with my fingers just to be able to count above 4 numbers.

Which all is... not exactly a bad thing. Like, as long as I get the job done, it's all good, right? But I have just often been wondering this my eyes' inability to count repetitive characters when the amount is more than three. Like, even reading a phone number can be difficult if it has the same digit for more times than just 2-3 times.

I think this is not affecting numbers only, but also the way I see things when I draw. The exact same thing happens when I'm using references and I see only one detail at once but not the others, often leading to me drawing something with proportions far from the reference because I cannot see the forest from the trees. This is why I use the grid technique when I draw photorealistic humans, and even then when I focus on one square of the grid, I only see details and not the whole picture in that square. And then it's always like "wait but there's more stuff to this square than this line, wtf, when???" because I simply did not see anything else there. And I just can't make my eyes see more than that one thing.

Is this what dyslexia feels like? For quite a long time I have been wondering if I could have mild dyslexia but not affecting everything I do. Mostly I have problems with things I mentioned here, memorizing and recalling series or letters or numbers (I always suck at these what comes to foreign languages), reading out loud longer more difficult words (my mother tongue has lots of long words) and sometimes I just can't get the letters in the right order when I try to pronounce words like "addrenaline" or "non-conforming", it actually took me ages to even learn how to write the latter and I still don't know if it's even right. I am not able to pronounce it properly because the n, f and m get mixed every time I try. Sure, English has its own quirks that don't fit my mouth in general, but Finnish also has lots of more difficult words but of which I of course cannot remember a single one right now.

Sure, anything could also be just related to ADHD. Some days I'm so bad at reading cos I'm feeling slightly hyperactive and my brain refuses to read sentences with the words in a correct order and keeps jumping from word to words as it pleases, leading to me not understanding a single thing because the text is literally all over the place. And then some days this does not happen at all. Usually the letters stay in place, at least.

Anyhow, back to these maths exercises now. Only a few left and then I'm done with this course for good.

#mcrmadness' random stuff

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disquiet-doll · 1 year

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kind of a vent but not really but i may sound rude so i'm sorry

pretty sure i know a decent amount of plural people

(not just on tumblr, pretty sure i know at least two people who are plural and just private about it elsewhere. although i haven't asked because. rude.)

which is making it pretty bothersome because i don't... get it? it doesn't make sense to me.

or more accurately whenever i look up information it's a solid mix of:

"Ok, that makes sense I guess"

"That doesn't make sense but I think you're just using language I don't get?"

"That... I'm sorry that sounds fake."

and the problem is that most of the latter is like, people who get very spiritual with it so that can be chalked up to "ok well i don't have the underlying beliefs for this to make sense" but also just uh

i mean a big one is the whole "this is multiple separate people" part which feels bad to call fake because it's kind of the whole premise*, but also makes no sense to me

(* although i really want to specify I'm saying "this sounds fake to me", which is to say i'm pretty sure it's mostly me not understanding it for my own weird reasons. clarifying below)

with that said i think a lot is more uh. my conception of the self? or lack there of.

don't really have much of that, so my idea of "me" is mostly just "everything that happens in this particular meat computer until it stops going". there's not really a singular soul, self, or essence in there you could reduce "me" down to, it's all one thing.

i don't even really consider the abstract mind to exist. it's just a thing in the brain, which is of course a very real physical organ.

(well more complicated than that because all the nerves contribute, but still)

so the idea of having a sense of self in the first place much less having multiple in the same brain just... i don't understand what that would look like

because to me it's like, yeah i talk to myself often, including responses that feel like they come from a different "section" of the brain than my conscious thoughts (and are often not at all responses I would give).

(Hence the post I made a while back about how my inner monologue makes liberal use of "you" and "we", since it's really more of an inner dialogue in a sense. those are usually one section addressing the other(s??) or "the whole self including this section", respectively )

...but i just have trouble conceiving of that as "multiple people". all the same brain, ain't it? isn't that what a person is? what else would it be for there being multiple in there to make sense...?

(this is also why i like, thought i got plurality and then i saw kaguya-sama described as plural and went "??? that can't be right..", because

she's just like me fr, as the kids say)

anyway having written all this out now i feel like i'm going to get "this sounds like you are plural" responses and i'm not sure how i feel about that

(would maybe be easier to just be told "that's dumb and you're an asshole"...?)

mostly i've just made myself upset by reminding myself how weird my basic conception of my self (or lack there of) is lol

oh, to be normal...

#disvent #this started more as a non-vent rant but i got emotional as i went oops #also #musing #by which i mean ''i'm sorry if i said something rude i'm thinking out loud''

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lestwritewhilewaitingforajobcall · 3 years

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Tamed Seas - Poseidon x Reader

(A/N)

This is the very first post I’m making on this equally new account and also the very first time I am ever using a second person POV for the reader. Let me know your thoughts!

The following story is just for shits and giggles. I do not own any of the characters, they are the property of Shinya Umemura and Takumi Fukui and Ajichika. I also do not own you, the reader.

Warning: Swearing from my disclaimer.

Tamed Seas

Poseidon x Reader

They were never allowed to stare.

If Poseidon never looked anyone in the eye, deeming them unworthy of even a simple gaze, then anyone other than himself were equally unworthy in looking at his wife.

Just before the meeting had started about a decision to be made on humanity’s fate, Poseidon had entered in his full regalia, his wife walking alongside him. Of course, such a prestigious couple deserved such a special entrance, as Hermes, per Zeus’ request too, played his violin most ceremoniously, a proud smirk on his face upon seeing the royal feet step perfectly on the red carpet he had immediately placed upon knowing of their arrival. Zeus’ older brother held a record of never attending meetings, much more any simple get-togethers unless they were of real utmost importance such as this one.

Shiva’s eyes grew at the sight of the couple. Even though Poseidon’s wife had originally been a mortal who had ascended to godhood, you were glowing and looked as ethereal as Aphrodite. Was he seeing things? He blinked and leaned forward in his seat. The last time he saw you was at the announcement of your wedding, then after the ceremony he never caught a glimpse of you ever again and only heard stories of your new and impressive conquests. Were you always this godlike?

As if reading his thoughts, he gulped upon finding himself at the receiving end of Poseidon’s cold and stoic stare. He shrugged his shoulders. Man, he had heard rumors of his sudden protectiveness towards his wife, but he never expected him to be this overly protective. He was merely trying to figure out if his wife was always glowing like this or not. Both figuratively and literally.

Alright, maybe he was checking you out a little bit.

Unlike the god of the seas, his wife greeted Zeus, and all the familiar gods with a warm smile. It had been ages since you had seen them all together, and the sight brought a sense of nostalgia to the days where you had first earned their favor, then their respect, and then their friendship. Although your story might not be as mighty (and as physically taxing) as Hercules’ was, you considered those ‘young’ days to also be one of your best apart from getting married to the man god who you had given your heart for and will continue to love and cherish for the rest of your life. Since you became Poseidon’s wife, you had not had much time to do leisure outside the palace, and correspondingly after heralding the title of ‘queen of the seas,’ you had taken it upon yourself to help your husband in matters concerning his own kingdom and the vast seas themselves.

“Master Zeus—” Zeus threw you a knowing look. “My apologies, Zeus, it’s such a pleasure to see you again!”

“Same here, little lady! Judging by the frequent calmness of the Atlantic Ocean, I trust you and my brother are faring along quite well?” The father of all gods chuckled, then wiggled his gray eyebrows. “Why, I must say, me and most of the other Olympians have been waiting for some new gods and goddesses to rule alongside us, if you know what I mean! Ehe he~”

Characteristic of your husband, Poseidon simply scoffed before muttering how gods such as themselves need not gossip. Blue eyes never left the Hindu god however, and unbeknownst to his wife, he lingered closer to you than usual whenever the both of you were in public.

This time, Shiva had had enough. He was sure he only looked at the direction of Poseidon’s wife only once, and admired you only once as well, yet he was being skewered by the god’s gaze for longer than what he had intentionally allowed. As if he had openly claimed you as his! He was the god of destruction for heaven’s sake, and would not allow this sacrilegious act, regardless of whoever he had to settle the score with. If it was with another prominent deity, then it would be a lot more fun. Golden eyes narrowed daringly, an equally challenging aura oozing from his form and startling the nearby gods.

“Lord Shiva, are you okay—”

“(Name). How many times do I have to repeat myself? You have no need to refer to other gods with honorifics.” Your attention whipped to your husband, who to your surprise, held a familiar, challenging stance. Unbeknownst to you but the other gods especially Aphrodite, Poseidon simply matched the challenge of the Hindu god. “You are the wife of the seas. All the other gods are beneath you, as they are beneath me as well.”

Upon hearing this, Shiva gripped his concrete armrests too greatly and it crumbled to dust under his strength. Pumped at where this interaction seemed to be heading−the thought of fighting, he stood up, arms on the ready to cause destruction. Despite being in the middle of the crowd and quite far away from the center of the stadium where the couple stood, he caught glimpse of the famous trident he would never be caught dead wielding. Now this was getting interesting!

“My rules are simple: you disrespect me, you die,” He pointed at Poseidon, which the latter found disgusting enough to scrunch up his nose.

“Should we put a stop to this, Lord Zeus?” Hermes asked behind a white gloved hand. Not exceeding any expectations, Zeus laughed after a stroke of his beard and clapped. He always was one to find entertainment in alike situations, especially after the fact that this was the only time, he and all the other gods had really felt Poseidon riled up. The expression on the god of the seas’ face remained calm but it was betrayed by the suffocating, dominating presence he emitted from where he stood.

“And after you die, your wife would become firsthand witness of realizing how your title betrays your strength,” Shiva stretched, but halfway through noticed Poseidon’s quick work of his trident. He took a stance and prepared for the parrying move.

Amidst the unexpected battle that was soon to happen, to everyone’s surprise, a whistling sound echoed along the tension-filled stadium. It was a tune most foreign to the gods, all except one. From your lips, a beautiful melody poured out as a soft gentle breeze seemed to have begun to blow. It was an old tune you had learned from one of your many lifetimes in the mortal world,

And the very same one you had sung to Poseidon that had sustained him in trying moments.

Poseidon came to a full stop, his muscles unmoving as he listened and slowly, put his trident down. What was he thinking? He should not have been swayed by a foolish taunt committed by a foolish god. He was perfection incarnate. His wife would never fall for a foolish antic, so why did he? Now he was both angry and confused with himself. How could he have allowed himself for even a moment, for others to see him angry over this? What even was this?

Without the need to look at you, relishing in your fine tunes reminded him of the initial catalyst to his reaction and an answer to his question. Whenever matters concerned his wife, his emotions, which he learned were out of his control, seemed to defy all rational logic, which, even at the very beginning of your courtship, bypassed his ego. Of course, despite these strong feelings, the one thing Poseidon had control over were his actions. Therefore, he had always had a grip on how he presented himself. Although it was still a slow progress to figuring out this foreign feeling with his wife, the only other being he deemed truly worthy to allow into his life, anyone else will never have a chance of being privy to this side of him−a sentiment that thankfully, his wife shared. Though he never admitted it, he was confused and left mulling over for some time when you had also told him before that you had meant a different thing.

“…Foolish. Gods have no need for wars, we are perfect beings ourselves. You are not the reason for my presence here and are not worthy of my time and attention.” Another long silence fell, finally broken by Poseidon, ignoring the mix of surprised and fearful stares. His legs started carrying him towards the direction of one of the high stage boxes in the stadium. “Come, (Name).”

Shiva, who had his fists out and ready to fight, blinked twice in confusion before grunting, scratching the back of his ear violently in frustration. “You Greek gods have always been boring! And here I thought I’d finally be able to cause some destruction again, this time in Valhalla…”

Other than the Hindu god himself, none would ever understand if he had riled up the Greek god on purpose for the sake of his own entertainment or, perhaps, for something more personal. Zeus, meanwhile, followed the sight of his older brother walking quietly alongside his wife. Aphrodite nodded her head in his direction, affirming his suspicions. He would never fully understand the concept of love, but hey, he did get the message that all would be damned if so much as a single hair went missing on (Name)’s hair. And it seems he was not alone in this thought, as despite Shiva’s aggressive taunting, he also managed to peak into the gravity of the god of seas’ feelings towards his wife.

After Shiva had been calmed down and more gods piled in along with the Valkyries, Zeus set his meeting in motion. From the stands, Poseidon and his wife occupied the two seats that closely resembled their thrones. Eagerly sitting beside the god, (Name) grinned. Every day she had to sit close to her husband or even at times on his lap, she always felt like her body fit snugly against his.

Blue eyes stared uninterested at the spectacle.

“Dearest?” Poseidon turned his head and met your gaze. Any dark smudges had disappeared beneath his eyes, and his mouth that was carved into a seemingly permanent frown softened. His lips went from a thin line to a gentle curve.

“Thank you.”

No more words needed to be said. Poseidon knew what you were thanking him for, and he responded by closing his eyes as though he was swallowing every ounce of serenity that emitted from you. And the taste was sweet…

Above the angry retaliation of the gods regarding the verdict of Ragnarok, Poseidon enjoyed an elusive peace. Even if it was just a simple moment like this, he set his features in calm lines and his shoulders sank−a truly rare sight, a special secret between himself and his wife.

“I don’t care about this. I am eager to go home.” Poseidon whispered under his breath.

A chuckle left his wife’s lips. “We’re going home soon, don’t fret.”

#poseidon x reader #snv x reader #snv poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok poseidon x reader #snv thor

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

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Whoo, requests are open! Can I get Azusa Mukami, Ash Launders, Lau, and Grell Sutcliff with a darling who's a ghost, or something akin to one? Thank you, please take your time with this and remember to take breaks when you need to!

I recently talked about this with my friend, but both of us are amazed with how popular Ash actually is. He suddenly became so beloved in here. Not that I complain😏.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, paranoia, self-harming behavior, kidnapping, killing

Ghost s/o

Grell Sutcliff

🟥Grell is a grim reaper and for that probably met ghosts quite a few times ago. Ghosts are souls from people who didn’t find peace yet and whilst humans can’t see ghosts most of the time, other supernatural creatures can. Grell feels sometimes a bit sorry for ghosts whose souls are tight to this world until whatever doesn’t allow them to Rest In Peace is solved. There are exceptions though, it isn’t unheard that even after the issue was solved, ghosts decided to stay, mainly because they started enjoying life as an undead once again. So at one point such examples were counted in the supernatural community as well.

🟥If her darling should be a pure ghost, it depends on whether they still try to find a way out of this world or are one of those who decided to live forever as a ghost. If it’s the first one, she would definitely try to make her darling enjoy life once again since she doesn’t want them to leave. She wants to give them happiness once again and would try about everything to make them feel joy again. If it’s the latter case, she would switch from a worried mother mode in a totally fascinated one. She did meet ghosts before, but normally they are more of loners since they grief over whatever they couldn’t finish during life. So having a darling as ghost makes her more interested since ghosts aren’t that known to other magical beings.

🟥Hopefully you know how to manifest yourself or else Grell will get really pouty since she’s clingy. A ghost can learn to materialize their body so others can touch them even though that takes practice. Girl loves you just very much to the extent where she often wants to jump on you and tackle you in a hug after a boring day of work...which ends with her being met with the ground of you don’t know how to control it or did it on purpose. It also tends to scare her a bit if you suddenly pop somewhere up without her knowing since you can just walk through objects. There was this one time where you were looking for her, ending with your head popping up through the ground right in front of her. And Grell might be able to handle, blood, zombies and other gore stuff, but not this. It ended with her screaming startled.

🟥If you’re not dead, but just possess the possibilities of a ghost, the whole walking through walls and turning invisible stuff, you’re most likely a hybrid because believe it or not, in materialized form ghosts can create or bear children too. And half breeds have been since the earliest days always been a more risky topic. Many creatures are still lacking the openness to accept persons from two different kinds since many are still in the classic belief that only the same species should have children together. It leads her to being more overprotective over you since she doesn’t want you to endure hatred and racism from others. She’s fiercely overprotective in that regard.

Lau

🚢He has a weird fascination with such things, at least in my opinion. He might only be human, but he has awareness of the more otherworldly creatures on this planet and his assistant, Ran Mao, herself appears to be some sort of superhuman as well. He has probably heard a lot of ghost stories before, either from his own country or here, in England. And he is somewhat good in telling when a story was just made up so the person could suddenly gain attention or if there is a spark of truth in it. He has a nose for stuff like this and actually likes listening to such stories.

🚢So expect his obsession to very quickly grow if his darling should be a ghost even though he would hold himself back if they are unhappy due to their unfinished business. He is manipulative and is also, despite being good in hiding it from his darling, very greedy and mercenary. He might not show it, but he has every intention to make his darling stay with him, even if that means ensuring that whatever they need to do in this world will never be finished. If you are that kind of ghost who’s happy with their new life, he would be much more open with his curiosity, expressing his interest in your abilities and also backstory. Especially if you should be a lot more older than your appearance gives away, he would be keen on your story. If it should happen that you were murdered and the killer is still alive, that guy will join your kind maybe very soon if they have regrets in their life.

🚢He’s also interested in how your anatomy works since he’s an expert in it. He of course wouldn’t use you like some test subject, but he is just kind of interested how you are able to turn your whole body in one moment in something thinner than air and in the next moment into something that appears to be flesh and blood again. He also kind of likes it to touch through you since your transparent body has a certain coldness around it which gives him goosebumps. It’s a great contrast to when you have materialized and are in possession of a warm body which leads him to being even more touchy than usual. Lau finds it also always very amusing whenever you suddenly appear out of thin air, your abilities are such a breath of fresh air for him. He tends to be a bit surprised, but is good in hiding it with his usual mysterious smile.

🚢He can only guess that a half-ghost like you are one isn’t very beloved in this world. Lau of course doesn’t think you, he finds it highly interesting that you are a mix from two different species, he never thought ghosts could actually create babies. If there’s the possibility, he would like to meet your parents and talk with them, especially the parent who’s the ghost. It kind of leads him to wanting to isolate you a bit since he doesn’t want some other creature trying to kill you since different from a normal ghost you can get hurt by weapons and die like a normal human even though it’s harder to do.

Ash Landers

▫️Whilst he definitely is informed about all the other magical beings existing in this world, he stays away from pretty much everyone, even his own kind. Ash is just embossed from his obsession with purity and doesn’t think of anyone as really worth living since everyone is tainted by greed, lust, sloth and other unspeakable sins. He even hates his own kind since many angels protect the exact lowlife he wants to get rid off, believing that every life deserves living and given a chance. He is somewhat alone with his crazy goals, but he doesn’t mind.

▫️I think Ash with a ghost darling isn’t a very good mix, a horrible if I’m being honest. For the simple reason that you already died and merely your soul remains on this planet, either because of your own free will or because you carry a burden with you. You’re dead. That should say everything to why Ash is experiencing the true deepness of madness and terror someone could never possibly begin to imagine. He failed, he pathetically and utterly failed to protect the only person who actually deserved a happy and good life. It makes his whole life shatter, next to his already screwed up sanity. It does not matter if you were killed, died in an accident or because of a deadly sickness. The village you lived in will be blamed and slaughtered by him.

▫️He’s horrible to act with this because I have this terrible thought that he will not only not allow you to leave, but also desperately try to search for ways to somehow get your soul back into your body or will find a vessel in which you can live. He does not care if you want it or not, he doesn’t even really care if you’re happy or not. Dead is dead and he wants you alive. He would get incredibly prone and torn apart if you yell and cry at him that you don’t want it, that you want to die finally in peace or like being a ghost. You just don’t understand!! HE HAS TO MAKE SURE YOU’RE ALIVE AGAIN!!!

▫️With you being only something akin to a ghost, a hybrid in here, the situation would still be very tangled, but a bit less than with you being an actual ghost. I see Ash as someone who usually despises hybrids, but you are made the only exception from this. It isn’t worth saying that he isolates you since he would do this in all scenarios, even though he also does it in here due to fearing that someone might talk down to you because of your unidentified species. He kind of thinks he’s the only one who can truly cherish you for your whole beauty. You might have an advantage since you can just sneak past him whilst invisible, question is if you’re heartless enough to let innocents suffer under this because Ash can and will burn whole cities down if it leads him to getting you back.

Azusa Mukami

🔪I don’t think he ever met ghosts or other otherworldly creatures before even though he lived a pretty long life. It stands even open to question if he is aware of the existence such other creatures. Whilst he does know that vampires exist, he himself is a half-blooded one, he is not really too informed about other creatures and might even not really cared about it anyways before meeting his s/o. His brothers on the other hand considered the fact of other magical beings on this planet.

🔪He is saddened that you are already dead, it doesn’t matter since how long you’ve already been. It’s still very upsetting for him, especially if you should be mourning over something you couldn’t do in your life as well. I do see him as someone who might actually possess the selflessness to let you go if you’re really desperate despite knowing he’ll die without you. So it’s up to his brothers to find ways to bind you to this earth because they’re scared what Azusa will do if you should ever disappear and leave him alone for eternity. With a darling who likes their current body and is satisfied with themselves, Azusa will be happy as well and be in love with you and your fascinating powers.

🔪But please let him touch you. He is clingy and likes having physical contact with you and if you aren’t able to manifest yourself and hurt him, he will become overtime more desperate. His brother also realize the problem with you being able to escape anytime you want from them except if you make this place your new place to haunt for eternity which all of them hope. Whilst he does like feeling your actual warmth and body, he still finds your ghostly form appearing, the feeling of cold and lingering touches everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time. I do not know if ghosts possess blood or anything like this, I doubt it. So that means at least you don’t have to worry about him eventually giving in to temptation.

🔪He will never be able to understand if someone should dislike his s/o if they should be somewhat of a half breed. As I mentioned, I don’t think he really cared much about the possibility of other beings existing and certainly not a mix made from more than one species. It does add up to his worshipper tendencies since apparently people like you are not very common. He thinks you’re wonderful. As a half-ghost you might have blood inside of you, if it’s from a human is another thing to discuss. But Azusa is from all vampires the one who wouldn’t want to suck your blood, even if it drives him crazy. And even if his brothers try to force him, you can abandon your materialized form anytime for your ghost body. You give Azusa’s brothers honestly a bit of a hard time with your abilities, it’s mocking for them in a way.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere grell #yandere grell sutcliff #yandere lau #yandere ash #yandere ash landers #yandere diabolik lovers #yandere azusa #yandere azusa mukami

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shihalyfie · 3 years

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Kizuna itself vs. the two versions of the novel

Written on request from a friend who wanted to remain anonymous. This is more of an editorial than a meta, and while I usually have a policy of “this is an analysis blog, not a review blog” it goes into more of my personal impressions and opinions than usual, but it’s something I write hoping to be helpful.

There are basically three “official” full versions of Kizuna: one being, of course, the movie itself, one being the Dash X Bunko version of the novel, and one being the Shueisha Mirai Bunko version of it. While it’s certainly not to say that any of the three is an “incomplete” version of the narrative, if you really want as full of a picture of the story as possible, somehow, each of all three versions of the story happens to have really important information that the other two do not. If I had to pick only one of these three versions to recommend to people, I would of course pick the movie itself; it’s obviously the base story everything else is based off of and was the one the production centered around as a priority, but the novelizations have a surprising amount of info that provide a lot of insight into the movie’s story and themes.

I get the impression that the creation of Kizuna involved making a lot more story and background details than could fit in a 95-minute movie, so these novelizations, which were based directly off the original movie script, ended up being an outlet for a lot of these details (and as much as I could be harsh on the movie itself for being a bit “reliant” on extra material, I have to admit that Adventure and 02 were both like this too -- a lot of our current understanding of the series comes from the Adventure novels and drama CDs -- so frankly I’m thankful we at least got this with a 95-minute movie instead of a yearlong series). On the flip side, while I'm not going to say that the novels are completely and utterly inaccurate representations of the movie, in a perhaps too-close approximation of Adventure and 02's writing style, this is a movie where even the nuances in a single line or split-second moment carry heavy implications, which become much blurrier or harder to identify when they’re presented differently (or not even presented at all) in the novel’s context, especially when they emphasize very different things from what the movie itself was emphasizing.

The short version of this is that I believe the Dash X version contains the greater amount of “plot and story” information but significantly misses out on the emotional themes and presentation, whereas the Shueisha Mirai version abridges and cuts chunks of content but is much better at conveying the intended message. More on this below the cut. (Note that the following post spoils Kizuna’s plot events.)

The movie itself

Since the following parts are more “in comparison to the movie”, I’m not going to go too much into this in this section, but one thing I will say is that the official English subtitle translation for the movie is really not great. Even if you take out nitpickiness about the fact it misses several significant nuances (the difference between “unchangeable fate” and “changeable destiny”, or the fact that Gennai refers to partnership dissolution as a “case” and not like it’s something that happens overall) at really plot-important moments, some lines (thankfully, usually not plot-important ones) are just straight-up incorrect. And worse, there’s evidence the official English dub was based on that translation! (I’m not faulting the people in charge of the dub for this, but whoever handed them that translation to work with.)

The dialogue in the Dash X Bunko version is transcribed effectively word-for-word from the dialogue in the movie (or perhaps vice versa, given that the novel is based on the original script), so I highly recommend checking that version as a reference for dialogue or if you want to do any intimate analysis on it. I don't want to go as far as to suggest not supporting the official version of the movie because of this, but at least please be aware that the translation used there is not entirely reliable.

Dash X Bunko

If you talk about “the Kizuna novel”, this is the one that people usually tend to be referring to, for two reasons. Firstly, it was translated shortly after the movie’s release, and due to the unfortunate circumstances of Kizuna being delayed in accessibility outside Japan for several months, this basically served as the only comprehensive source of info about the movie outside Japan for a very long time. Secondly, in Japan, this one was marketed as “the one for adults” in contrast to the Shueisha Mirai one being “for kids”, which meant that a lot of people assumed that the latter one was just an incredibly stripped down version that was otherwise disposable or replaceable. (This is very, very much not the case, and is extremely ironic when it comes to a movie that partially centers around the dangers of looking down too much on things associated with childhood.)

When it comes to “plot and story info”, this is the one that probably serves as the best reference (especially for fanfic writers or those who need a refresher on certain plot events or to look up something quickly), and probably has the most “comprehensive” listing of plot events surrounding the movie. The dialogue in it is a word-for-word recreation of the movie’s script, and actually includes more scenes than the movie itself does, including two that I suspect to be deleted scenes (a detailing of the specifics behind the initial plan to pursue Eosmon, and a conversation between Koushirou and Tentomon) and adaptations of the first and second memorial shorts within their context in the movie. It also contains some interesting background details and extra context for some things in the movie that you might think would normally be animation flair or something, but take a very interesting implication of story importance if they’re going out of their way to write this in the script. (There’s a scene where Agumon and Gabumon appear in front of their partners when they’d been behind them a minute before, and it’s easy to think this might be an animation error, but not only does the surrounding context make this unlikely, the novel itself actually directly states that their positions had changed.) Given that, I think it was very fortunate that this novel was available to us for those outside Japan waiting for the actual movie to come out, because this level of detail was very important to have on hand rather than fragmented spoilers on social media.

However, the part where I think the novel is significantly deficient in compared to the actual movie (and also to the other version of the novel) is that it describes the plot events in too blunt of a manner and doesn’t bring out its themes very well. (It’s kind of like having a long and very detailed Wikipedia article plot summary; it definitely got all the hard facts down, but the emotion is gone, which is still a pretty significant issue when media’s all about the feelings and message in the end.) While “considering the movie to be more cynical than it’s probably meant to be” happens regardless of which version someone’s working from, I’ve talked to perhaps an unnervingly high number of people who started with the novel and were absolutely convinced that the movie’s message was about adulthood sucking and needing to just accept it, until they saw how the actual movie pulled it off and the surrounding atmosphere and realized it definitely was not. (I think one really big factor here is that a lot of the visual imagery makes it extremely, extremely hard to miss that Menoa’s mentality is completely screwed up and her way of seeing things was dubious to begin with; prose descriptions really just don’t capture the way they slam this in your face with visual and musical cues during the climax of the movie.)

You can figure this out from the novel itself, but you have to really be looking closely at the way they word things, and on top of that it’s hard to figure out which parts you should be focusing on and which parts aren’t actually that important -- in other words, the “choice of priorities” gets a bit lost in there. Even the little things lose a lot of value; it’s theoretically possible to use the novel to put together that Daisuke is wearing his sunglasses indoors during his first scene, but you have to put together the context clues from completely different paragraphs to figure this out, none of which compares to the actual hilarity of visually seeing him wearing the thing in a very obviously dimly lit restaurant because he’s our beloved idiot. (For more details, please see my post with more elaboration on this and more examples of this kind of thing.)

I wouldn’t say that the movie itself isn’t guilty of (perhaps accidentally) having some degree of mixed messaging, but I would say this problem is rather exacerbated by the novel’s way of presenting it due to its dedication to dropping every single plot detail and event without much in the way of choosing what to contextualize and what to put emphasis on (as it turns out, treating practically everything in the movie as if it has equal weight might not be a great idea). So, again, for that reason I think the novel serves as a good reference in terms of remembering what happened in it and knowing the movie’s contents, but I also feel that it’s really not the greatest deliverer of the movie’s message or themes at all.

Shueisha Mirai Bunko

The second version of the novel was not translated until several months after the movie first released, and shortly before the Blu-ray and streaming versions of the movie itself came out anyway, so my impression is that on this end a lot of people don’t even know it was a thing. On top of that, even those who know about it often dismiss it as the “kid version” -- and to be fair, it did baffle quite a few people as to why this version even exists (Kizuna is technically not unacceptable for kid viewing and its plot is still understandable regardless of age, but since the movie is so heavily about the millennial existential crisis, it’s not something kids would really relate to). So a lot of people tended to just skip over it...which is really a shame, because it contains some interesting things that actually aren’t in the other two versions at all. For instance, did you know that, as of this writing, this is the only thing that plainly states the specific explanation for why Yamato decided to become an astronaut, for the first time in 20 real-life years?

While there are still some things that weren’t in the movie proper (mainly the Eosmon initial plan and the adaptation of the second memorial short), for the most part, the actual events are somewhat abridged compared to the movie and the Dash X version, and other than a few stray lines, there’s not a lot of extra information that would be as helpful for referencing the events of the plot. The version of the novel here is rather broadly interpretive of the scenes in the movie, so several things are condensed or taken out (and, amusingly, because it’s assuming that the kids reading this don’t actually know the original Adventure or 02, it has to describe what each character is like in a quick one-liner).

However, interestingly enough, it’s because it’s so heavily interpretive that it illuminates a lot of things that weren’t really easy to glean out of the Dash X version. For instance:

Some scenes are described with “other perspectives” that give you info on someone else’s point of view. (For instance, we see more of Yamato’s perspective and thoughts when he has his first phone call with Daisuke, or a bit more detail in the process of how Eosmon kidnappings work.)

We get a lot more information on what’s going through everyone’s heads during each scene, and what emotions they’re feeling at a given time. (This is something that you could at least get to some degree in the movie itself from facial expressions and framing, but would often be a lot blurrier in the Dash X version; here, it’s spelled out in words.)

When things are abridged, you get a clearer idea of what the intended point and theme of the scene was because it’s stripped down to include only that part. In one really interesting case, the scene with Agumon finding Taichi’s AVs has a “censored” equivalent where Taichi’s pushed to a corner because he can’t find anything non-alcoholic in his fridge -- so when you look at the two versions of the scene and what they have in common, you can figure out that the point isn’t that it was a lewd joke for the sake of it, but rather that Taichi’s forcing himself into boxes of “adulthood” that are actually meaningless and impractical.

Some of the descriptions of the characters, scenes, and background information make it a lot more obvious as to their purpose in the narrative (it outright confirms that Miyako being in Spain means that her personality is getting overly enabled there).

The scene where the circumstances behind Morphomon’s disappearance are revealed makes it significantly less subtle what the point is. In the actual movie, a lot of this involved visual framing with Menoa seeming to become more and more distant, but in this version of the novel they basically whack you over the head with the final confirmation that Menoa is guilty of neglecting her own partner, which contradicts her own assertions that “they were always together” (maybe not emotionally, it seems!) and helps clarify the commonality between her, Taichi, Yamato, and Sora in what exactly led to their partners disappearing.

Bonus: this version of the novel really wants you to know that the ending of the movie is about Taichi and Yamato fully having the determination to turn things around and lead up to the 02 epilogue. (The movie’s version of this involves the extended version of Taichi’s thesis and the credits photo with Yamato obviously next to a rocket, while this novel’s version involves more detailed fleshing out of how Taichi and Yamato decided to use their experiences to move onto their eventual career paths and what kind of hope they still have at the end. The Dash X version...didn’t really have a very strong equivalent here.)

In other words, while this version of the novel isn’t the greatest reference for plot or worldbuilding, it does a much more effective job being straightforward about the intended themes and message of the movie, and even if the scenes in it are much more loosely adapted, it’s much better at adapting the emotional nuances of the things that would normally be conveyed via visuals, expressions, and voice acting. (Although I would still say that the movie itself is the best reference for that kind of thing, of course.) If you just want lore or plot ideas, I don’t think it’ll help you very much, but since this series is so much about characters that had their ways of thinking fleshed out in such incredible detail, and about strong theme messaging, this is all still very valuable information in its own way.

#digimon #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #kizuna spoilers #shihameta

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archetypal-archivist · 3 years

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Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone P.2

So, a little while back I wrote piece titled Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone (linked here) which was inspired by the works of @petrichormeraki and @redorich, who popularized the AU of Tommyinnit from the Dream SMP getting dropped into Hermitcraft somehow and summarily getting adopted by the entire server. I, in my infinite wisdom, decided “yes, but also angst” and spat out a solid 1500+ words with a cliffhanger at the end because it was getting ridiculous and I had yet more to write. This is another 1500+ words of continuation.

-----

It's not easy, knowing things. Joe knows more things than most, and oh, how it eats at him sometimes. He jokes with Cleo that between the two of them and their dogs, they are perhaps the leading experts on being chewed on, but she never laughs at that joke. He can't help but wonder why, his thoughts drifting as he lies still and silent in her arms, curled up together on his bed in the winery. Her orange hair tickles his nose as he moves to bury his face in her shoulder a bit more, her cool breath ghosting over the sticky tear tracks that still line his cheeks. All the things that remain unsaid lie between them, but their silent agreement binds them together tighter still. And indeed silence is the name of the game, however much he wishes it wasn't necessary- everything will work out in due time, he knows. But oh, how it aches that he can't say anything more on the matter, not even to her.

"Cleo?" The zombie woman makes a soft inquiring noise, politely ignoring how his voice cracks on the syllables. "Are we doing the right thing?" Her grip tightens again, almost crushingly so, and Joe goes limp at the implied rebuke. Be it right or wrong, his silence must be ensured- he knows so much that if he said anything, it'd all come pouring out. A real modern-day Cassandra, verbal fountain and harbinger of doom in one. No, best to stay cryptic when he can and silent when he can't- and if even his silence fails, Cleo is there, sword in hand, ready to keep him quiet.

He should not take comfort from that. But here, wrapped up in his best friend's embrace, utterly at her mercy and all the safer for it... He does anyway.

-----

Joe and Cleo aren't in a romantic relationship, but it would not be amiss to call them platonic life partners in this universe. Joe has been seeing things for as long as he can remember, the exact mechanics are strange and baffling at best, and if he tries to actually do any Science to figure out how this stuff works, the magic changes to spite him. It's led to a lot of unfortunate visions of peanut butter and how the server generally tends to misuse the stuff (Etho sometimes using it instead of slime in a sticky piston is a milder example), so after enough peanut visions to make him allergic on principle, Joe tends to just let the visions come as they may. The only hard-coded bit that comes with them is that anyone living who hears his prophecies won't believe them and will have something bad happen to them as a result. Cleo, being a zombie, is a special exception to the rule. She's only alive in the most technical of senses, so while bad things still happen to her if she hears Joe speak about his experiences, she at least will believe him.

Which is why she is so determined to not know more about whatever is going on with Tommy. When Joe had rushed in a month ago, tears streaming down his cheeks and glasses barely hanging onto his face, she had merely put down the book she had been reading and had opened her arms wide to him. Convincing him that she would not betray his trust or break his heart had been hard, but she had known it was worth it. How can it be anything but, when Joe had looked at her then as if she was the most precious being on the planet and had immediately thrown himself into her arms, bursting out into troubled tears? He offered to tell her the full story, eyes wet and longing, and her long-dead heart ached at the trust he is giving her- but she is far too selfish to give that up. So she had turned him down, smile on her lips.

Even when he whispered, voice hoarse, that they wouldn't be seeing Tommy for a while. Even when he shuddered and shook in her arms, fragile as glass in her grip. Even when he begged her to ask, just ask, please, it's too much... She did not ask. If she asked, he would tell her, and then she would be hurt and his heart would break because it would be his words that had hurt her. She would not, cannot, will never inflict that upon him, or let him inflict that upon anyone else. (Of all the heads in her collection, the one she has most of is Joe's.)

She simply asks him if there will be a satisfying ending, and when he says yes, she asks no more. Everything will be okay, in the end. So long as there is that much, so long as she has Joe in her arms and the comfortable silence stretches out between them, then she will be content.

(At the foot of their bed, deep in Joe's winery where the barking is muffled and the light cannot touch them, there lies a chest of heads. Inside it, nestled among the many faces of the dead, rests an old iron sword bearing the name Hush. It's blade is rusty from disuse, but if Cleo ever decides that she isn't satisfied, well. There are ways of dealing with that.)

(Things will be okay. She'll make sure of it.)

-----

Philza was no stranger to death. A veteran of a hardcore world, where even the very earth was out to kill him, he had seen his fair share of deaths and had dealt out even more. Usually just to the local mobs and wildlife, but there was still the occasional player dropped into his world by the cruel hands of the Void as a sort of "apology" for leaving him alone, bereft of his sons. As if some random strangers could ever fill the Void in his heart.

Most of them had wandered off upon seeing him, more interested in escape than any companionship he could offer them, and he'd inevitably see their death messages in the otherwise silent chat a few days later. Others would approach him, some curious, some desperate for kindness- he gave them none, was often intentionally cruel just to drive them away. He had the Void in his heart and the Void had him, and he ached and ached for what he could not have. Anything less would be a pale imitation, a mockery of the love he was desperate to return to. He tried not to think about how those kind strangers would also come to meet their ends, often more messily than those that had decided to leave him be to begin with.

Then there were the rare few with... less than gentle intentions. (Blood for the Blood gods, no matter the universe.)

Theirs were the deaths he regretted the least, but the blood still gave him nightmares. For all that he loved his sons, he never understood their love for glory, be it found in conquering other nations or the sticky ooze of a dying foe. Maybe that's why he had spent so much of his time with his elder sons when he returned, the Void finally releasing him from his hardcore prison. Just a father's attempt at understanding, even if it left his youngest at loose ends.

But the problem with loose ends, he had come to find, is that the world had a way of setting them to rights- either by tying them back into the grand narrative, or by cutting them out entirely. For months after Dream had come to him, apology on his lips and charred shoe in hand, he had believed that Tommy's fate had been the latter. He had mourned his son as if such was the case, weeping openly at the news for the first time in years. (He wasn't the only one, though- Technoblade was an only child now and he was not taking it well.) It was only when Tubbo came to him with his compass to ask about its ever-spinning needle that he felt a spark of hope, for a compass that spun was not a compass linked to a dead soul- simply a lost one. Such hope was justified when, six months later, Technoblade burst into his house with a snarl on his lips and a smile in his eyes. Tommy had returned.

And as Phil stood, back straightening and wings spread wide, hope bloomed in his chest like hanahaki, choking him with love right down to his core. Tommy had returned, despite everything.

And Philza would not let him go again.

-----

For all that Tommy might have been... gone for at least a month now on the Hermitcraft server and life has significantly slowed down for all involved, by no means has it stopped entirely. The shops are still stocked, the torches are replaced when the old ones burn out, Hermits still go out and see each other, if less often than before. Xisuma, in fact, instates a series of mandatory meetings every week or so as a way of making sure that everyone is still alive- a bit of reassurance that no one else has died in the time interim. Even the hermits who prefer to keep to themselves show up, such as Tinfoilchef, Joe, and Cleo, although the latter two remain distinctly separate from everyone else on the server during the meetings, their refusal to take a side alienating them from the rest. Grian, broken though he may be, also comes, usually in the arms of Iskall or with a vacant smile on his face depending on the state of his mental health on the given day. His presence is also alienating, as most of the hermits don't quite know what to say around him and thus will give him and Iskall a bubble of space to themselves during the meetings. Mumbo is the only one to cross the divide, standing loomingly tall at Iskall's back, as if daring anyone to say something potentially hurtful to either of his friends.

Frankly, the entire concept of weekly meetings is a bit of a mess. Xisuma stands at the front with Keralis at his back, voice and posture more and more tired with every meeting and Keralis standing just a bit closer, a silent show of support (ready if his admin ever needs some physical support too). The prognosis is usually a mix of dull stuff and hopeless stuff- lag is better than it has been in years, the Chestmonster shop is out again, Tommy still has not been... found. It's not exciting exactly, but the tension during the reporting stage is palpable as everyone waits to hear if something else has gone wrong. It's a bit like being on the front lines- horrible, drawn-out minutes of tedium as everyone holds their breath, waiting to see if another bombshell will drop but knowing that they have to be there, because some warning is infinitely better than seeing a death message in chat one day and not knowing if that person will ever make it back.

In addition to this is the tension that comes from the server being split in three- the believers, the mourners, and those too damaged or too caught up in their own narratives or too neutral to swing to one side or the other.

The meetings are where the most near-fights happen, and Xisuma is so, so tired of having to be the sane one these days. (The benefit of a helmet, he's come to find, is that no one can see you cry.)

(He doesn't take it off much anymore.)

-----

It's after one such meeting that Zedaph finds himself cooped up in his base, eyes burning with unshed tears and feet dangling out into the Void as he sits at the bottom of the hole in his base, the one that goes straight to bedrock and then even further still. The chill is a welcome distraction from his own inner turmoil, and for all that it's dangerous to be sitting so near to the edge of the world, he can't find it in himself to move away form its cold comfort. After all, Tommy can't have died permanently, right? So sitting there is perfectly safe. He has to believe that. He has to.

The meetings are tough on everyone, but sometimes Zedaph wonders if they are a bit worse for him than they are for the rest. It can't be normal that the first thing he does after every meeting is burst into panicked tears as soon as he gets back to his base, as he's certainly never felt such deep fear and relief after the meetings they had before the Incident. And yet, as soon as the iron door of his base sncks shut behind him, he drops down into the Void hole, sits at the edge, and bawls his eyes out. It's kinda funny- he's shed more tears in the last month than he has in his entire life so far. And all for a boy he had known for less than a year.

During this particular day, however, something odd happens. When he sits down for a good cry, it feels like there's the slightest of breezes coming off the Void beneath his feet, chilling him right down to his bones. It's cold, yes, but a welcome relief as he feels a bit like he's burning up from the inside out. Every moment he spends with Tango and Impulse is stifling, as with them he has to shove himself into a hateful mold he never wanted for himself. He doesn't like being angry, and being angry alongside his best friends is hardly any better. If he had it his way, he would have curled up in bed and simply slept the horror away, only waking when the nightmare was over and he could go play mini golf and Among Us with Tango, Impulse, and Tommy again. Instead, his love for his friends demands that he supports them in all their endeavors, even if their goals these days seem to run a little closer to "get them all killed" than is comfortable.

But yes. The breeze. It feels like ice on his skin and sends every nerve in his legs buzzing. It has a distinct smell to it too, like TV static, ozone, and that sensation you get after you brush your teeth and go take a big gulp of cold water. It's... odd. But vaguely comforting. And as the tears finally well up in his eyes and drip down his cheeks, as he lets himself sob for all the friends- both new and old- he's lost, he finds that it's exactly what he needs.

And if Zedaph would only listen a little closer, let himself see beyond his broken heart, perhaps he would hear the whisper on the wind, too.

Everything will be okay. I'll make sure of it.

-----

Evil X has his own troubles to deal with. He had been present when Tommy had died, if watching from the wrong side of their dimension. Lost in the Void with nothing better to do, he had often found himself watching his friend go about his day. With space and time being as screwy as they were in the Void, he could find himself taking three steps and then would be watching Tommy go from sleeping over at BDub's base to having "breakfast" with Rendog. So when Grian and Tommy had gone out End-busting that fateful day, of course he had been watching. And that was all he could do- watch- as he saw his best friend fall to his apparent death, that little line of code that signaled "perma-death" flashing once, twice, and then glowing a deep, ominous red.

But that wasn't the end of it, even as his dull and bruised heart stuttered in his chest at the sight.

Like a redstone pulse lighting up everything around it, that red glow set off a cascading chain reaction that rippled up and down Tommy's code until it eventually trailed out to wherever his code stretched out into the Void. There, it must have severed something because before he could even call for help, his friend's code yanked inwards and away, slingshotting the whole mess into the distant darkness beyond, leaving naught but a vague impression on the inside of his eyelids behind. It was... awful. One of the scariest things he had ever seen, perhaps second only to watching his brother, stern-faced and cold, send him off to the Void once again. But for all that it hurt to see that red glow and watch in mute horror as the server he had once tried to destroy shake itself apart at the seams, there was still hope.

The code was gone, yes, but not unraveled, not destroyed. Merely... transported. Moved. Like a file being sent from one computer to another, or a player teleporting between servers. Tommy's code vanishing like that was cause for alarm, yes, but somewhere out there in the vastness of the Void, it lingered still- and it had left a faint impression of itself in its wake. That meant there was hope.

Evil X- and by proxy, his twin Xisuma- were voidwalkers, beings specifically designed to see, understand, and even modify the world's code. Were he anything else, he surely would have perished by now, his consciousness scattered across the Void as it was. And having been in exile for so long, he had gotten to be adept at seeing the seams between worlds and reading the truths of existence as the Void had intended for her children. If anyone could follow that faint trail, could get Tommy back, it would be him.

For the first time in a long time, Evil X had hope. And hope is a vicious motivator indeed.

-----

TBC :)

#fanfiction #my writing #minecraft #dream smp #hermitcraft #hermit tommy au #heartstone #i'm pretty pleased with this

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wavesmp3 · 3 years

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[hyunjae] the sea is yours to take

pairing: lee jaehyun x (female) reader genre: fantasy, royalty au, romance, slow burn warnings: mentions of death, some violence wc: 36k

synopsis: The Seven Sins and the Seven Gifts of the Spirit are warriors, exceptionally skilled in fighting, and they’re all dead. That is, all except you, The Gift of Fortitude. It’s an uneasy time in the kingdom with eastern Lords and northern bandits threatening a rebellion. You feel that it’s your duty to try and maintain peace within the kingdom. But when the King sends you away for an act of treason, you aren’t sure how much you can do so far from home. And it certainly doesn’t help that Jaehyun, the southern Lord of the estate you’ve been sent to, seems to hate your guts.

a/n: and here i present another reposted fic because yolo. the original work version is here if you’re interested. this fic contains a very odd mix of tbz members and ocs so beware. also the line breaks indicate a new chapter (sort of). anyways enjoy but warning the beginning is very slow.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

“Lady Gift,” the words rush out of the servant’s mouth, you hum allowing him to continue, “The King asks of your presence.”

“Very well then. Tell him I’m him coming,”

And as soon as the servant had entered the equipment room, he leaves as well. Out of fear. Out of urgency. Perhaps out of both. You had assumed it was only a matter of time until the King would call for you. Afterall, murdering one of his most trusted lords who’s also a member of his council is not a crime that goes undiscussed.

You look around the training room. The walls are adorned with swords, daggers and knives. Some of your own and some of belonging to the Golden Palace. You grab a dagger off the wall and push it in your boot. It couldn’t hurt to be prepared in the case anything was to happen.

You walk along the walls, dragging out the time before your presence with the King. Your eyes and feet stop when you come across a sword, one that was gifted to you by the youngest prince himself. You take it off the wall, testing the balance of the sword in your hand. The sword is beautiful, a gold blade that shines with the brightness of the Zalazar River. The hilt of the sword is a piece of art more than it’s a handle. You think that the hilt should be gawked at in a museum instead of collecting dust at the end of a sword. Two figures emerge from the black stone of the hilt. As if they were trapped inside the stone before the maker carved them out. As if they would have been lost in the fog of the black stone if the maker hadn’t given them air to breathe. You turn the hilt and study it carefully. Prince Orindell had requested the maker carve out one of the Seven Gifts of the Spirit and one of the Seven Sins. Specifically, Prince Orindell asked for you, the Gift of Fortitude. As for the Sin, the maker chose to bring the Sin of Greed to life. You aren’t exactly sure how he did considering there are no pictures or paintings of the Sins and Gifts apart from the sculptures in the southern temples. Even then, you’re sure most of the sanctuaries that housed the sculptures were destroyed long ago. Nonetheless, the Sin of Greed emerges from the other side of the stone, and in some way the Sin of Greed looks familiar to you despite having never known Greed. Prince Orindell had excitedly gifted this to you and explained in great detail the trouble he went through to get it done. At the time, Orindell had been much younger and things had been so much simpler. You wonder what Orindell would say to you now. The thought tastes bitter in your mind.

“Did you hear that the King is waiting for you?” The familiar tones of his voice crash over you like a wave. The corners of your mouth lift.

You put the sword back carefully. “Yes, it has come to my attention,” you say as if it’s an afterthought, in a sense it is.

“Well,” he chuckles, “I guess the King will have to wait his turn.”

You rush to Juyeon and embrace him in a long hug. You can feel the longing in his arms. It warms your heart.

“I’ve missed you dearly, Juyeon.”

He grins. “I as well.”

“So much has changed since you’ve been gone.” You tell him seriously, reminded of the King you’ve kept waiting.

“I’ve heard.”

“About everything?”

“Yes, everything,” he says into your hair. The next part he whispers. “So, tell me, what warrants you murdering Lord Seth.”

Instead of answering, you pull away. “I’m afraid I must go. The King has asked for my presence.”

Juyeon’s eyes flash with a certain color of betrayal that prods at the tender parts of your heart. It pains you to see the tired bags under his eyes and the droop of his lips. You assume your face mirrors something close to his.

“Like I said, a lot has changed here Juyeon.”

“It’s actually…” he pauses, a small smile appearing on his face, “it’s actually Captain Juyeon now.”

“Oh.” You say simply. “Well congratulations Captain Juyeon. The Knights of the Holy Order are lucky to have someone as gifted as you.”

“Thank you. I learned from the best.” He smiles boyishly.

“That you did.”

You’re reminded of the lifetime before his enrollment in the army, the Knights of the Holy Order. The memory makes you sad. Despite the bleached shade to his brown hair and the dimness in his usually light eyes, it hadn’t occurred to you that perhaps a lot had changed for him too.

You’re both quiet for a moment. Until he asks, “Now about Orindell-”

You shut the door in his face.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun rolls out the knots in his neck and tries to stretch out the ones forming in his back. The two day journey north to the King’s City was taking longer than expected. Unlike his father, Jaehyun was not one for traveling. To Jaehyun nothing seemed particularly glamorous about the reality of riding on horseback for days and nights on end. Jaehyun was much too content with staying by the sea at the estate which Jaehyun called home. There, at his estate, the town was self-governed and quiet. There Jaehyun felt peace. Here, on his horse's saddle finally reaching a clearing in the woods, Jaehyun feels most notably irritable (although boredom and tire are a close second). Here, faced with the reality of traveling, Jaehyun understands even less why his father and Captain Younghoon put up with it.

“We are approaching the Zalazar River," the first guard calls from the front of the party.

"Lord Jaehyun," Younghoon says riding up from the rear, "I think you'll like this."

And of course, Younghoon is right. Jaehyun has heard the tales about the Zalazar River. Tales of a river so deep that submarines could easily ride along the current without ever being detected. Tales of a river whose color is so magnificent it changes with the seasons. Tales of a river which seems to take flight and disappear into the eastern mountains. And although Jaehyun has yet to see the latter tale, Younghoon is right; Jaehyun loves the abyss that is the Zalazar River.

"It's beautiful," is the only thing Jaehyun can think to say at the sight of the deep purple river.

"Yes," Younghoon hums, "it's wonderful isn't it. I myself am partial to the yellows and dark reds of late fall. But you'll come to see how blissful the King's City looks even during this season."

"Ah, the Golden Palace," Jaehyun mutters, gripping the reins of his horse tightly, "I'm sure spring does the city well."

"It does." Younghoon says simply looking out towards the river as the horses step onto the Bronze Bridge. Younghoon must sense Jaehyun's discomfort because the next part he says with hesitation. "Lord Jaehyun, I think this trip will be good for you. It's time you come to see the King's City and the Golden Palace as more than just the place your father died. It's time you stop resenting it."

And with that, the rest of the Zalazar River is crossed in silence.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You approach the doors to the throne room alone and with heavy footsteps. You stop in front of the door, a feeing resembling fear crawling up your spine and wrapping around your neck. You shake the feeling away and remind yourself that you are the Gift of Fortitude with abilities and powers unmatched by even the best among the Knights of the Holy Order. The King and his council were only one of many regimes you have seen, that you have lived through. Without you, the King was nothing. You have nothing to fret. Yet still, something about the air in the corridor and the dagger in your boot makes you nervous. Something about the life of a Lord who was only following orders from the King makes you shiver.

Regardless, you nod at the guard of the throne room, and he opens the door, announcing your presence to the room anyways. As you enter the room, you think the King has outdone himself this time. Archers line the perimeter of the room, tucked away in the balconies and presumably safe from you. The throne room usually hosts a party of six guards, but today, you count twenty swordsmen lined along the carpet, and skilled ones at that. You swallow a laugh at the dagger clinking against your ankles. Perhaps you should’ve slipped a knife under your skirt as well. But either way, you’re confident in your skills. If this broke out into a fight, you against the guards and archers, you would prevail. But to spare the boys and girls who stand around you, shaking in their armor, you would do everything in your power to avoid that.

“Gift,” the King calls to you from across the throne room, “do you know why you’re here?” The King has a smile as he asks it, knowing that for the first time in his rule, he has the upper hand over you. Hell, this is the first time since the rule of King Avi that any King has had power over you.

You nod, observing the assembly the King has gathered for your presence, apart from the soldiers. On the first platform at the end of the throne room, six seats are laid out for the six men and women of the King’s council. Two of the council seats remain empty while the other four house council members sitting still fear. Fear directed towards you. You assume that if they weren’t so scared of you and your ability, they would slouch in their seats with indifference. You’ve never taken a liking to the King’s council anyways. On the next raised platform behind the council seats, are the thrones of the King and his Princes. Prince Peter’s throne, to the left of the King’s, is empty. The sight makes you worry. As the inner court likes to say, the eldest son had ‘left’ the Golden Palace and the King’s City at the end of winter. You have yet to hear any word from Peter and can only pray to the Gods that his plans are going well. Prince Roen, the second prince, sits on the right of his father. The prince had only just returned from his campaign in the east that previous night, but despite the tire evident in Roen’s face, he smiles sympathetically at you. Next to Roen is Prince Orindell who avoids your eyes so easily, in a way only the youngest prince is capable of. His lips are all but a tight line on his face, and he grips the arm of his throne hard, his knuckles turning white. And just for the slightest of moments, Orindell meets your eyes, but as quickly as they're brought up to you face, he rips his gaze away. Despite that, you still manage to catch the dark shade of hurt and heartbreak that swims within his eyes. And it manages to replace all of your previous nerves with a familiar shade of hurt and a different one of guilt. Guilt for hurting Orindell the way you did, the way you had to. You push away the thoughts and memories and refocus on the problem at hand.

The King, differently from the others in the room, sits up straight and attentive. His smile taunts you like a dog, holding your freedom above your nose as you jump through hoops for him. You hate the man that sits before you. His throne is flashier, his rings are bigger, and his profits are lower. He is reckless and foolish. He doesn't understand the teetering balance of his own kingdom, of his entire world. He seeks out matters he doesn't understand and toys with those that should not be disturbed. And above all, the man seated before you should have never inherited the crown.

"Yes Lord King," you say, finally answering his question. "I know why you have asked for me today. Although, you need not ask such useless questions." You pause for a moment, your next words simmering on the tip of your tongue. "I miss your father for that reason, he wasn't so persistently foolish."

The King scowls, and the council members roll their eyes while both of the present princes hide snickers.

"You should be more mindful of the treason that leaves your mouth, Gift." The King tells you, his confidence dented but his smile as evil as ever. "The blood of one of my most trusted Lords stains your hands, and if you continue such pathetic, pointless defiance, your blood will stain the floors of this room."

You hum. "Perhaps, but you underestimate me, Lord King, greatly. And if you think you know the extent of my skill, then let me say that for the entirety of your small life, you have never seen me fight with the intention to kill. If the men and women you have assembled for me attack, you will be sitting over their dead bodies."

“And then what? You’ll have taken the lives of even more innocent people.” And at this you falter. At this, you’re forced to give the King credit because he knows where to land his blows. He knows how to keep your freedom so close you can smell it, but still far enough so that you can’t have it. But you gulp down your guilt and continue regardless.

"I have killed more men in my life then you know in yours. I will live just as I do now." And despite the conviction with which you say it, you know the King is not fooled by your empty words. You meet Roen's eyes, and he nods. You take it as a vote of confidence. "Either way Lord King, I pay you no debt. I owe you nothing. My own disdain for traveling is the only thing keeping me at your court."

"Yes, that may be the case," the King chuckles rubbing his ring clad knuckles against his chin, "so then leave, Gift. Leave this court and never return."

The breath is knocked out of your lungs. This, you did not expect.

"Father, you can't-" Orindell blurts, standing up from his throne staring sadly at you. He shakes his head, attempting to cover his own selfish intent with reason. "Father, we need the Gift of Fortitude. Your hold on this kingdom is weak without her power. If you lose Fortitude, you risk losing the kingdom."

“Eh,” one of the female council members speaks up, looking less afraid of you now, “let the Gift of Fortitude go. A monster like her has no business in a King’s court.”

The words strike you across the cheek, specifically the word ‘monster’.

“You!” Orindell shouts at the council member, rage contorting his face. “How dare—"

Roen cuts Orindell off, before he can rampage further. "Father, Orindell is right. I've met with the Lords in the far east. The failure of the west harvest this season has made them restless. If it weren't for Fortitude, a rebellion from the east would be an even more pressing issue than it already is." Roen's eyes are in a panic, the previous tire eradicated from his face. "Think rationally father."

"I am thinking rationally!" The King booms, sending your gut straight to your throat and the princes back to their thrones. The council members sit motionless once again. Perhaps out of fear of the King this time as well. "But if the Gift of Fortitude does not wish to be banished from this court, then so be it." You exhale. "However, I will not have you and your treason-filled mouth infiltrating my court." The King spares a seething glare at Peter's empty throne. "You will still be a member of this court, but you will not stay at the Golden Palace until I permit your return. Lord Jaehyun and Captain Younghoon from the southern lands are on their way to the Golden Palace as we speak. They are to arrive later today." The name Jaehyun sounds familiar, but you can't quite recall where you’ve heard it before. "You will live out your sentence there, at his estate." And then it hits you. You had heard of Lord Jaehyun’s name before. Jaehyun’s father was a regular visitor to the Golden Palace before he fell sick and died in the palace infirmaries several years ago.

“But—” Orindell begins before his father cuts him off.

"And if you refuse, then I will personally see to the completion of the act you murdered Lord Seth to prevent."

You know now, with the King’s final threat, that you must hold out on your freedom. Even if the King’s threat is a bluff, the risk of it alone takes priority. With one last deep exhale, you conform.

You spare the princes’ thrones one last glance before reaching into your boot and dropping the dagger you had tucked inside. The dagger hits the stone floor with an obnoxious clatter. The sound of your acceptance echoes throughout the walls hauntingly. You exit the throne room and head straight to your personal quarters without another word.

***

You weep for hours and hours. You weep for this kingdom. You weep for Orindell, for Juyeon, for Roen, for Peter. You weep for the King and his foolishness. You weep for the power of the Gifts that had been bestowed upon you all those years ago, and for the sheer fact that you are a Gift despite never asking for it. But most of all, you weep for the freedom you can’t have as long as the current king lives.

You weep until you’re sure you can’t have any tears left to shed. You weep until you feel dead.

That night, you have dinner in your dining room with Prince Roen. He tells you about his recent campaigns, his successes and losses. He spends a little too long telling you about the daughter of one of the better eastern lords. He smiles as he mentions her, playing absentmindedly with his food.

"I was starting to wonder why you were taking so many trips to the east." You say with a playful smile that feels foreign on your lips. "Do you intend to marry her Roen?"

A blush creeps onto his cheeks as his eyes meet yours in shock. "No, no," he shakes his head vigorously, "it isn't like that." But then as he pokes a carrot with his fork, Roen's lips turn down in a frown. "I can't imagine someone who distrusts the monarchy so much even considering a prince anyways."

You hum, recognizing the lingering in his movements and the longing in his voice as something particular to youth, something hidden in your own memories, and something you beg to forget. You swallow your thoughts down and focus on comforting the boy in front of you.

"I'm sure that's not something a few more trips to the east can't change, Roen. Afterall, you are known for your persuasive nature." He snorts. "It also helps that no one distrusts the monarchy more than the members of it. Perhaps if the lady were to know of your true intentions, then you wouldn't think it so bizarre to ask for her hand. I'm afraid you underestimate how many women would love to be a princess, even to a palace like this."

He smiles again, “Thank you." He pushes the carrot into his mouth.

Dinner continues in a comfortable silence, the only ambiance being the crackling of torches along the wall and the fire in the hearth. Roen pauses for a second swallowing his food carefully. Then he looks over at you tentatively before opening his mouth to speak. You cut him off before he gets the chance.

"Roen please, I don't need your pity."

He chuckles and murmurs something you don't exactly catch. "I was just going to say that I've been to Lord Jaehyun's holding. You'll come to see just how beautiful and picturesque the south is, and I think you'll take a liking to Captain Younghoon." You vaguely knew of Captain Younghoon. He was the youngest ever Captain of the Knights of the Holy Order, second only to the Commander, but retired at a young age. Lord Jaehyun on the other hand was a complete mystery to you. You knew nothing of him only that he was from the south and that he was his father’s son.

"Have you ever seen the sea?" Roen asks. You shake your head. "Well if you're standing by the shore, the water of the sea continues on into the horizon for what seems like forever. The water stretches so far out and in all directions. From the shore, it appears like if you travelled far out enough, you'd fall off the edge of the world-"

"I've seen paintings." You snipe.

"Yes, but it doesn't compare to the real thing. The sea," he trails off, a dazed off look in his eyes, "is something else entirely."

You can’t help but smile at the bliss Roen radiates at the mere thought of the sea. “I guess I’ll be seeing for myself soon enough.” You think the world could use a few more like Roen. Even in the darkest of moments, he remains a ray of light. “You remind me so much of your grandfather, Roen.”

His eyebrows rise, and then a saddened look crosses his eyes. "He's always talked to highly of, even by the eastern Lords. But what was he like?"

You hesitate, thinking back to the times before you had returned to the Golden Palace. "Perhaps not as clever as your father. But kind and empathetic. He possessed a certain understanding of this kingdom although at times, he could be impulsive. At the end of the day, your grandfather was a good king, and you've managed to inherit all his best traits."

"Were you close to him?"

"No, not while he was king. At that time, I wasn't closely involved with the King's court. I only returned because of your mother." There's another silence. You spend it immersed in your memories.

Finally, Roen speaks. “Do me a favor and enjoy the sea.”

He stands up and presses a kiss to your forehead in goodbye. Then he leaves the dining rooms, sending in a servant to clean up your dinner.

***

There’s a knock on your bedroom doors later that night. You’re sitting in front of the fire with your knees pulled up against your chest when it happens.

“Who is it?” You ask tiredly.

"It's me." You recognize his voice immediately. And if it weren't for the hours you spent weeping this morning, you probably would've cried at the sound of his voice alone. You didn’t expect Orindell to come and bid you farewell, but somehow the fact that he does makes it all the more real.

You push yourself off the rug and move towards the door. Your hand hovers over the doorknob, but after another thought, you drop your hand, deciding to make due with conversation through the door.

“Yes, Orindell,” you call through the door, “what is it?”

You listen as he stumbles over his words for a second before falling silent. When his voice resurfaces, it’s small and scattered. “Do you hate me so much as to not open the door?”

You sigh. In a loud and exaggerated way so that you know he hears it. Orindell means well. Deep down, you know so much. But his words are a paint brush coloring a lousy shade of blame all over you; as if any of the issues that have come between you two is your fault. You suppose if you tried confronting him again, he would try to tell you that it is. “Prince Orindell, have at least enough dignity to recognize that I’m doing this for you.”

He exhales harshly in acceptance. You settle for it. There’s more silence, and after a few minutes, you begin to think that he’s left. But when he speaks up again, he proves you wrong. “Roen was saying how he reminds you of our grandfather.”

You inhale sharply. Conversing with Orindell had come to this point. To the point where you both had to speak lightly and with low voices as to not anger each other. To the point where you both had to tiptoe around topics as to not bring up something the other did not wish to speak of. To the point where you couldn't even talk about what mattered.

“Indeed, he does.”

“Then…” Orindell hesitates. You hear a small tap on the door, “do I remind you of anyone?”

You smile. His question reminded you of a time before his confession, of a time when conversation with Orindell was simple and delightful, of a time when Orindell was a child. You let the question sit in the air for a second despite knowing exactly who Orindell reminds you of. You think of it every time he smiles or laughs or does anything at all, for all his mannerisms and all his traits remind you exactly of her. He reminds you of her in an obvious almost flashy way, in a way you couldn’t possibly ignore. In a way that’s not as subtle as Roen. In a way, that makes Orindell so dear to you. “You remind me of your mother, Orindell.” Your voice softens. “You are so very much like your mother.”

He hums, satisfied with your response despite already knowing it. “Do you miss her?”

“Everyday.”

“I wish I knew her.”

There is no pain in his voice as he says it, and yet you feel so much pain when he does. “She would’ve loved you.” Then you pause before saying the next part with a laugh dancing under your voice. “In fact—well don’t tell the other two—but she probably would’ve loved you the most.”

Orindell laughs. You relish in the sound. Then after a moment, he asks: “How about Peter then? Who does he remind you of?”

You falter, not quite able to put your finger on who Peter reminds you of. If not someone, then there is something the eldest prince reminds you of. Something like a memory, but there’s a fog in your mind that halts you from knowing any more. And right now, with Peter long gone, the memory seems so faint; you aren’t even sure it’s real.

“I’m not sure,” is all you can say. Orindell hums as if he wasn’t really waiting for your answer anyways. You are quick to push down the annoyance that bubbles from it.

“Do you wish to leave?” He asks, in a voice that makes you believe he was scared to do so.

“Of course not.” You deny, perhaps a little more harshly than necessary. You try not to think too much about your upcoming departure from the Golden Palace. You fail.

Orindell waits a long moment. But when he speaks again, the words come falling out of his mouth. “We could get married. And then you won’t have to leave. It’ll fix everything, and father won’t be able to send you away.”

“Orindell,” you hiss, but you want to rage. And in this moment, you hate how much he reminds you of his mother. Because just like her, his love makes him stupid. His love clouds his judgement. And in this moment, you want to yell at him and scream because you do not need someone you care for as much as you do Orindell telling you the same foolish things the people you think so lowly of do. You do not need Orindell persisting that a marriage will fix everything. You do not need Orindell, even less do you need his romantic interest in you. But you want Orindell, as a friend. And you have no wish to leave the Golden Palace in yet another argument with him. So, for that reason, and that one alone, you swallow your rage, and it burns all the way down your throat.

“Leave Orindell.”

“Not until-”

“Just go,” you seethe, the anger seeping from between your teeth. You don't wait for a response, storming to the other side of the room, near the fire. You stand by it for a second, the heat only adding to the flame burning inside you. And when you’ve had enough, your anger bursting from its seams, you kick the neat stack of firewood beside you. All seven logs go flying, one of them dents the wall. You focus on your breathing.

There’s another knock at the door. “Orindell, I said go!” You yell whipping the door open to come face to face with a wide-eyed Juyeon. “Oh, Juyeon,” you say in shock.

“Bad time?” He asks with raised shoulders and the faintest hint of a smile.

You huff, ignoring the urge to hit him over the head. “Just come in.”

“Roen told me about your sentence.” He begins, sitting down in an armchair while you go back to kneeling by the fire.

“Roen sure is talking plenty tonight.” You mutter into the orange glow.

“Roen always talks plenty,” Juyeon hums, amused but calm.

Juyeon, in himself, is an epitome to his upbringing. He was only a young boy and a palace servant when you took him in and taught him how to fight. To your surprise, Juyeon turned out to be an excellent fighter. Before you had relieved the orphan boy of his petty debts to the King, Juyeon was constantly riled up. Always looking for a fight but losing once he did. He was angry at the world, and for good reason, but looking at him now, Juyeon contains none of the anger that consumed him as a boy. You suppose you can thank him joining the Knights of the Holy Order for that. You knew firsthand how fighting in the way that the Knights do, even when there is no war, changes a person. Afterall, fighting in the Holy Wars despite your age and disinterest in conflict, had changed you in such a way that when you visited your father afterwards, he didn’t even recognize you. But you think Juyeon, unlike what your father thought of you, has changed for the better. He had come back on his breaks more mature and grown. He had become a friend to you despite the manner in which your relationship had begun. Juyeon was the first true friend you had since the princes' late mother.

And after a while of you glaring at the fire and Juyeon crossing and uncrossing his legs, he finally speaks up again. "Don't blame yourself for Orindell's inability to control himself and his emotions."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you to be speaking ill of your friend and more importantly the prince." You bite back, stubbornly refusing his comfort.

He scoffs. "Don't be so dense. You're my friend too."

There's a silence and you reach your hand out to hover over the fire. "Did you know?"

"About Orindell and you?"

You nod although there is no 'Orindell and you'. There is only Orindell's foolishness and your reason.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his chin in his palm. "Yes," he says with such simplicity it irks you. "In my defense, I thought you knew."

"You'd think after all these years of living, I would be more in tune with these things, but no," you say rather lamely, "I'm still just as clueless as I was."

"It appears even time can't change that." Juyeon jokes. You laugh for the first time that day, and it feels like you can finally breathe again.

"Have you heard any word from Peter?" The question seems to bring you both back to reality. And the question, or perhaps reality, drags Juyeon's lips down and draws his gaze towards the flames.

He scratches a spot behind his head. "Not a word.”

“I’ve been sending him Risals.”

“And…?” Juyeon asks, hopeful.

“They come back empty. He doesn’t send me anything back.”

Juyeon sighs, and you can’t decide if it sounds more tired or sad. “But if he's following his plan then he should be at the Nomads' Land by now."

"That's only if he was able to find the Nomads' Land.” You rub your temple thinking and overthinking all the aspects of Peter's plan. On a hunch and a forgotten memory, you had advised Peter to head north to the Giant Forest. Specifically, you had advised Peter to find the Nomads’ Land within the Giant Forest. The Nomads have always been very private people but even more so after the rule of King Avi, who ruled over the kingdom during the Holy Wars. No one has even seen a Nomad since let alone their Lands. There are no maps, no stories, nothing. On top of that, the Nomads’ have never been known for their kindness to strangers. "I feel as if I've let him go on an impossible quest."

Juyeon shakes his head, a crease running through his forehead. “Peter decided to go himself. He sketched up the plans himself. If he thought he could do it, there must be something he knows that we don’t.”

You nod even though Juyeon sounds as if he’s convincing himself of it as much as he’s convincing you. But you know, there is some truth to Juyeon's words. Peter is more than competent to do what he set out to do. As he grew, the eldest prince always found new ways to surprise you with his skill. After the Holy Wars and the deaths of all the Sins and Gifts apart from yourself, your fighting skill went unmatched. That was until Peter. Peter trained under you by the request of his mother and to the disdain of his father, and as Peter grew, so did his skill. By the time Peter had aged into a man, he became a better opponent than you had seen in ages. His brute strength making up for what he lacked in skill. But there’s something else about Peter as well, perhaps the same quality that puts a fog in your mind and reminds you of a memory you can’t remember. That part of him makes you wonder if there is something else that eases your worries. Whatever quality of Peter that perplexes you, is the same one that proves Peter is capable of completing his task to overthrow the King, to overthrow his father. You can only hope your advice to ask the Nomads gets him far enough to do it.

"You're right," you admit, "Peter is capable. I'm just worried. It all..." you hesitate struggling to find the right words, "It all makes my head ache."

Juyeon sits back in the armchair, his brows furrowed and appearing to be deep in thought. He opens his mouth suddenly as if to speak, yet nothing comes out. He seems to be overcome with the same loss of words as you.

“I hate to ask this—”

“Then don’t.”

“—but why did you send Peter to the Nomads’ Land?”

You still. The same fog from before overcoming your mind once again. “I can’t even begin to explain, Juyeon, I—”

“Try,” you meet his eyes, they look darker in this light or perhaps it’s his own confusion and hopeless need to understand that makes his eyes turn to the color of bark after a thunderstorm, “please.”

You do.

“I’ve told you before, Juyeon. I struggle to remember life before the Holy Wars.” You pause, taking a moment to collect and retrieve your thoughts from the thick fog consuming your mind. You come back empty handed.

“It’s almost as if life never existed before the Holy Wars.” You say slowly. “I’ve forgotten the way life was before that. The way life was before I was the Gift of Fortitude. But sometimes, just barely, I get a sense of a memory. As if whatever made me forget is wearing off. As if it’s weakening.” You take another break, dropping your head in your hands. You can feel a headache coming. “These memories, they come and go, lasting only for the moment they appear. But when I was speaking with Peter that night, something about him or something about our conversation brought this memory to me. And I…” You trail off, struggling to remember the conversation you had with Peter before he took off.

Juyeon stands up from the armchair and joins you on the floor. His movements are frantic, but the message they send is clear: they scream desperation. “I know it’s difficult to remember, but please try as best you can. We were so close last time.”

This makes you stop. You release your head from your hands and look back at Juyeon quizzingly. “Last time?” You repeat in disbelief.

He grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “Focus. You talk of a memory. A memory to do with the Nomads and your life before the Holy Wars. What did you remember that day with Peter? Why did you send him to the Nomads’ Lands?”

You don’t even hear him, your head suddenly splitting with pain. “When did we speak about this before?” You ask, helplessly wondering how you possibly could have forgotten an entire conversation.

“The memory,” Juyeon emphasizes once more, “what was the memory?”

“Juyeon, please,” you beg, feeling a tear you hadn’t even noticed roll down your chin, “let it go. I don’t remember.”

His entire body seems to sigh in defeat. “I’m sorry,” he mutters before letting go of your face. Your mind turns white with fog the moment he lets go. You immediately drop your head into your hands again. The pain in your head so intense you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out. Eventually, you taste blood.

“I’m sorry.” Juyeon mumbles into your hair. You hadn’t even realized he was embracing you. “I wish it didn’t have to hurt so much to remember.”

You try to tell him it’s like a curse but the words get swallowed by another surge of pain.

He helps you into your bed, and it makes you feel as old as you are. He whispers another apology before leaving your room.

And like a spell, the fog in your mind devours your entire body in a deep sleep.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

"In the name of the Gods, we offer this prayer. Bestow upon us the knowledge of the Elders to live in harmony with our neighbors. By bathing in your everlasting light and glory, may we go in peace.” Jaehyun prays although his mind is far from the memorized passages that leaves from his lips. The palace temple is modern and beautiful, but different compared to the traditional southern temples he’s used to. But even that, Jaehyun can’t focus on. No, instead, Jaehyun troubles himself with the events of this morning. He awoke exhausted and aching after a long day of riding. But despite his tire, he was to meet the Gift of Fortitude this morning with breakfast in your personal dining room. It was awkward to say the least, with Jaehyun and Younghoon unsure and timid and you holding your head in your hands, complaining of a headache to a servant in hushed tones. Yet, Jaehyun sits in the palace temple thinking and overthinking how you, the Gift of Fortitude, looked so undeniably human.

Jaehyun sneaks a glance. You’re seated next to him, but you look as if you’re somewhere else altogether. Your eyes are sewn shut and your lips are held tightly in a line. He wouldn’t have thought you to be so religious. Hell, Jaehyun wouldn’t have thought anyone north of the Zalazar River to be religious, but with the way you sit, concentrated on the prayers, religious is the only thing Jaehyun can think of to describe you.

The King had sent a message to Jaehyun’s southern estate at the beginning of the week asking for Jaehyun’s and Captain Younghoon’s presence at the Golden Palace immediately. The King didn’t bother including any details. Jaehyun and Younghoon were left to speculate what business he could possibly have with them. With Jaehyun, a southern Lord who never involved himself with the politics of the kingdom, and with Younghoon, a retired Captain of the Knights of the Holy Order. It certainly doesn’t help that Lord Jaehyun is known to harbor a dislike towards the King.

But now, as Jaehyun and Younghoon walk the ornate halls of the undeniably breathtaking Golden Palace alongside the Gift of Fortitude, Jaehyun wonders even more why the King has asked for them.

“Lord King I present to you Lady Gift of Fortitude, Lord Jaehyun, and Captain Younghoon." The guard announces to the King's throne room as the three of you enter. The throne room, Jaehyun notices, is just as lavish as the rest of the palace, if not more. Five of the six counsel seats are filled. Prince Roen and Prince Orindell sit attentively at their thrones, but Prince Peter's throne is empty. Jaehyun finds the sight odd, especially since the heir to the throne is known to be closely involved with the King's affairs and even more because Prince Peter is a close friend of you, as are all the Princes.

Despite that, the King wastes no time. He says that you wish to visit the southern lands, and offers Jaehyun's estate as a place for you to stay. Jaehyun assumes there is more to the request than the King lets on but accepts nonetheless, and the three of you are ushered out of the throne room almost as soon as you’re brought in.

Jaehyun, Younghoon, and you walk the halls aimlessly after the dreaded presence with the King which admittedly was briefer and more passive than Jaehyun had imagined.

“I apologize for the circumstances, Lord Jaehyun and Captain Younghoon. I’m afraid I had little choice in the matter. I just wished the King hadn’t handled matters so hurriedly.” You tell them.

“It’s quite alright, Lady Gift,” Younghoon affirms, glancing at Jaehyun as if expecting him to say something, but Jaehyun stays silent. “I find it a shame although,” Younghoon says to cover Jaehyun’s silence, “that there were so many missing in the King’s close court this morning.”

“Yes.” You respond simply.

“If I may, where is Prince Peter? I’ve heard you’re close to all three Princes.”

“You heard correctly, Captain Younghoon.” Then you pause. Jaehyun closely observes the way you carefully choose your next words. “Prince Peter had some personal matters to take care of. He’s taken a sabbatical of sorts.”

"Odd that there was no royal notice of his sabbatical," Younghoon says in an even but skeptical tone.

"Yes, Prince Peter is nearly as impulsive as his father," you cringe slightly when you say it, as if the words hurt.

And it's evident in the way you deflect the question, that there's something more to Prince Peter's absence. Something the King's court has chosen to cover up and ignore. Jaehyun knew just how impulsive the King could be, and for that reason, Jaehyun suspects that Prince Peter has snuck out of the palace, but then with another look at your scornful face, Jaehyun suspects something different. Prince Peter must have been sent away by his father himself. The realization takes a moment to sink in.

Younghoon clears his throat. “And then what about Lord Seth, the sixth member of the King’s court?”

You stop walking altogether, looking down at your feet with furrowed brows. You look as if you’ve forgotten something. Jaehyun and Younghoon stop walking as well.

“You haven’t heard?” You question so quietly that Jaehyun barely hears it.

Younghoon tilts his head, “Heard what?”

You bite your lip, and look off to the side. You open your mouth once, but then close it again after. Jaehyun thinks, as mad as it sounds, that you, a Gift of the Spirit, look a little nervous.

Jaehyun takes a step forward. “What is it Lady Gift?” He asks, breaking his silence.

You shake your head once and then look up at Lord Jaehyun and Captain Younghoon with steady eyes. “Lord Seth was murdered.” You state with an eerie simplicity. You hesitate before adding the next part. “And I was the one who killed him.”

Jaehyun was wrong. It was not nerves that made you hesitate. It was guilt.

“Well then, I just need to take care of a few more things before we leave. I’ll meet you both at the stables.”

And you’re off before Jaehyun and Younghoon can even comprehend what you just said.

***

Jaehyun waits for you and Younghoon in the stables. He tends to his horse deep in thought.

Jaehyun hadn't been sure of the nature of your prospective visit to his estate. But now with your murder confession, it's clear you are being sent away as a punishment. You’re more akin to the stories and rumors than Jaehyun had wanted to believe. A monster lurking on the palace grounds as one of the Seven Gifts of the Spirit under the pretense that you mysteriously switched sides and fought with the Seven Sins during the Holy Wars. A monster lurking within a human body with an uncontrollable power that should be stopped, contained.

Jaehyun doesn’t agree with all of it, but he’s not above some of the notions either. Before the Holy Wars, the Seven Gifts of the Spirit were praised as highly as the Seven Sins. The two groups worked in harmony as protectors of humanity. However, for reasons unknown to the people, the Seven Sins and Seven Gifts of the Spirit began fighting which escalated into the Holy Wars. The kingdom took the side of the Sins making the Gifts an enemy to the nation. After the war, the Gifts were not praised as highly as they once were. In fact, the Seven Gifts of the Spirit were not praised at all. All seven Sins and six of the Gifts perished in the Holy Wars. You, the only one who had survived, shouldered the blame of the Holy Wars. You, the Gift of Fortitude, became a pariah.

Although Jaehyun hates himself for doing so, he can’t help but think that perhaps you do have too much power. Power that is unmatched without another living Sin or Gift. Power that goes unchecked. If the Gift of Fortitude set out to kill, Jaehyun doubts there is much that could stop you. Lord Seth’s murder had gone unannounced and relatively unpunished. Jaehyun wonders if Lord Seth was an isolated example or just another among the many whose lives were put in your hands.

But then when Jaehyun thinks back to the figure praying diligently beside him in the temple just hours ago and the person who complained of something as mundane as a headache this morning, it doesn’t appear to make much sense. If Jaehyun had not known you to be the Gift of Fortitude, he would’ve never fathomed that you’d even hurt a fly.

“That’s a very beautiful horse you have there, Lord Jaehyun,” you say suddenly, bringing to Jaehyun’s attention your presence in the stables.

Jaehyun nods with a polite yet strained smile. “Yes, he was gifted to me by my father.”

“Ah,” you mutter. And for a second, Jaehyun thinks he sees your face turn to a frown. But before he can look any further, you continue. “Mines is a river horse.” You brush through the mane of the horse in the stall next to Jaehyun’s. “I found him a while back by the Zalazar River.”

Jaehyun doesn’t say anything in response. He begins attaching his saddles and bags to his horse instead. He watches the affection with which you care for your horse. He wonders how you’re able to act so calmly after admitting to murder not too long ago. Jaehyun thinks your dismissal and nonchalance negates any trust he might’ve held for you.

He clears his throat. He makes sure it’s loud and obtrusive. He makes sure the I don’t trust you is clear.

“Lord Jaehyun,” you begin, not even bothering to take your eyes off your horse, “I understand you may be upsetted by and skeptical of my actions, but I kindly ask that you respect them nonetheless. I hope you come to see that I had my reasons. Good reasons. Ones that I am unable to share with you.” You pause for a second as a servant brings in a bird Jaehyun doesn’t recognize and sets it by your feet. You continue as soon as the servant disappears behind the stable doors. “I am no stranger to fear and hate directed towards me. But seeing as I am to be staying at your estate for the foreseeable future, I ask that you wait and get to know me before you make any rash assumptions concerning me.” You take a step past Jaehyun so that you stand beside him facing the opposite stable door. You turn your head, and Jaehyun shivers at the way your breath hits his neck. You speak directly into his ear, voice no louder than a whisper. “It’s best you realize sooner rather than later that we have the same enemy here.”

Jaehyun understands what you are implicating, the notion alone bringing a sudden heat to his cheeks. He doesn’t dare to meet your eyes. But you stare at Jaehyun until he makes some acknowledgment of your speech. You’re gone the moment he does, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt in the space you used to occupy.

Jaehyun is left stunned. He can’t even acknowledge the palace servant that re enters the stable to finish preparing your horse. He’s only brought out of mind when a familiar heavy hand rests upon his shoulder.

“We’re ready when you are Jaehyun,” Younghoon says, a laugh dancing under his words.

Jaehyun groans. “How much of that did you hear?”

Younghoon releases Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Enough,” he hums with an enthusiastic nod.

“So you think it’s excusable then?” Jaehyun questions, hurt that Younghoon seems to be taking your side over his. “Are you willing to excuse murder too?”

Younghoon’s quiet for a moment, but when he does speak again, he does so seriously. Jaehyun listens intently. “It’s not that I’m excusing murder Jaehyun. It’s that I’m willing to believe there is more to this story than we are hearing. I’m willing to trust the Gift of Fortitude over the King.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I just can’t understand how everyone is looking past the life that has been lost. How can you accept a crime as grave as murder?”

Younghoon chuckles darkly. “I spent the better part of my life making murderers out of men and women. I made a murderer out of myself as Captain of the Knights of the Holy Order. I stay sane because I believe that I led knights to their deaths for good reason. If I did not accept the murders I’ve committed, I would have gone mad a long time ago. Sometimes Jaehyun, a crime is only as grave as its motivation.”

Jaehyun is silent, taking his time to understand what Younghoon means. He returns his attention to his horse.

“What have you been doing all morning?” Jaehyun asks, deciding he needs more time to process than the moment allows. Younghoon isn’t bothered by the shift in conversation.

“Ah, I had many things to discuss with Prince Orindell. You know, former Captain of the Knights to current Commander.”

“Anything worth sharing?”

Younghoon hums. “Not much, although he is an excellent Commander, Prince Orindell,” Younghoon clarifies, “even despite his young age. What they say is true, he possesses a gift for...”

Jaehyun nods, listening half-heartedly to Younghoon for Jaehyun has no interest in the subjects of armies and battles.

Eventually, Younghoon wears himself out with talk of the current state of the Knights, the supply chain routes, their management of northern bandits and uneasy eastern Lords, and whatever else Younghoon can think to comment on. And by the time he does, the horses are prepped and ready to go. The small, mismatched party of Lord Jaehyun, Captain Younghoon, and the Gift of Fortitude begin the two day journey south.

The journey is quiet and tense. The only conversation coming from Younghoon and you making small talk about the weather and the shameful fail of the western harvest. They take rest at the Bronze Bridge.

The Zalazar River is now a blood red color. Younghoon comments on how it’s a little early for the river to take such a dark color. He also mentions that this color is one of his favorites.

“My favorite,” you begin, leaning over the edge to stare at the water, “is the blue that appears during the transition from winter to spring.”

They all, including the guards, stare at you, dumbfounded. You notice a second too late and turn your head towards them slowly.

“What?” You breathe, and Jaehyun laughs when he realizes you’re being serious. He laughs at the notion that your favorite color of an ever-changing river is the color of all bodies of water.

“In that case, Lady Gift,” Younghoon chuckles, “I think you’ll take a great liking to the sea.”

They mount their horses and cross the rest of the Bronze Bridge and blood red river a little less tensely.

***

They take rest at an inn for the night. Jaehyun finds how empty the inn is odd considering it is at the center of this town off the main road. Even if most of the rooms were unoccupied, the dining rooms of inns were always full at nights with the town’s people engrossed in conversation over a pint of beer. But tonight, with the guards resting upstairs, the inn’s dining room is mostly empty. Three tables are occupied and one of those three are occupied by Jaehyun, Younghoon, and you. Jaehyun remembers what you said about fear and hate being directed towards you. He starts to wonder how often you empty a room with fear, intentional or not.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You feel bad. It’s been so long since you’ve left the King’s City, that you’ve forgotten how the people outside the Golden Palace react to you. You have forgotten that most people don’t want to eat dinner and play drinking games with a Gift of the Spirit near. You make a mental note to cover up more next time you’re out. Then after a quick glance at the innkeeper behind the bar, you make another note to reimburse her for the money she must’ve lost thanks to you.

You’re aware of the way Jaehyun squints at you, untrusting. The southern Lord hadn’t appeared to be so headstrong and stubborn when you met him this morning. But as Lord Jaehyun stares daggers at you, you guess that your first impression of him was wrong. Still, you’re tired of petty conflict. You want to help Jaehyun understand your motives without involving him in the palace’s politics. You want to make peace.

You exhale sharply.

“Lord Jaehyun,” his eyes widen when you address him, “Captain Younghoon, I know you must have many reasons to distrust me.” Jaehyun scoffs. You ignore it. “But I’d like to make peace with you both. I’m afraid I might not be able to answer all of your questions but perhaps there’s some that I can.”

You feel uneasy. You aren’t one to make an effort to get someone to like you or trust you. And yet, you find yourself in front of Lord Jaehyun and Captain Younghoon nearly begging for their acceptance.

“I have a question,” Younghoon begins, sitting up slightly. You nod. “What kind of bird do you travel with? I’ve never seen a bird like that before.”

“Oh, the bird. It’s my personal Risal.” You say simply. You aren’t surprised to see the shock on their faces. Risals were extremely rare and even more expensive. They’re said to have been blessed by the Gods as messenger birds. That of course is the only explanation for how Risals are able to send any message anywhere and to anyone in no more than a day even if the one sending the message does not know where to find the one receiving.

“My Gods, how in the world did you get your hands on a Risal?” Younghoon exclaims, like a little kid waiting for sweets.

You smile. “It was a gift from the princes’ late mother, Roe.” The reminder makes your smile turn sad. Lord Jaehyun notices.

“Are they as untraceable as they say?”

You nod. “Tracking a Risal is impossible. It’s almost as if they disappear into thin air when they take flight.”

“You’re very lucky.” Younghoon tells you with a laugh, and you let yourself believe that you’ve made some progress. Lord Jaehyun, however, doesn’t let you believe so for long.

“I have a question.” Lord Jaehyun implores, bringing himself out of his silence. His voice is stern and a little cold. Younghoon looks uneasy. You beckon for him to continue anyways. “What exactly do you possess as a Gift of the Spirit?” His voice is filled with distrust, but when you meet his eyes, you're surprised to find that they aren’t as cold as his voice.

“Jaehyun—“ Younghoon starts.

“How do you mean?” You encourage him to continue. You know what he wants to hear. He wants to hear how you’re a killer by nature. He wants you to explain just how deadly you are. He wants you to prove his distrust.

“What are your powers, Gift?”

You flinch at the name. You flinch at the question. Both of which you hate. And yet, you’re no stranger to either. But you’ve already decided to make peace, and so peace you’ll make.

“As you know, in ancient times Maratelli the archangel gave 14 roles to humans. The Seven Sins: Greed, Anger, Pride, Lust, Sloth, Gluttony, and Envy. And the Seven Gifts of the Spirit: Wisdom, Understanding, Counsel, Knowledge, Piety, Fear, and,” you pause to look at Lord Jaehyun directly, “Fortitude. The Sins and Gifts were given to the people as protectors. As humanity’s fighters. To answer your question Lord Jaehyun, I am an exceptionally skilled fighter. I was made and crafted by the Gods to fight for humans and protect them in ways they cannot. But the power is not almighty, the Seven Sins and Gifts are slow healers. Even small injuries can leave us bedridden for weeks.”

Lord Jaehyun wastes no time, jumping into the next question. “Are you immortal?”

“No.”

“So you can die?”

“Yes.”

“By old age?”

“No.”

“Then how?”

You wait a beat. “By giving up.” You don't explain any further.

You had hoped to make peace with Lord Jaehyun tonight. Perhaps you had hoped for too much.

--LORD JAEHYUN-- There’s a familiar tense silence while riding the next day. They reach Jaehyun’s estate by late afternoon, earlier than expected.

You request to be taken straight to your quarters.

“You’re acting strange.” Younghoon mutters, watching Jaehyun with a careful eye as he takes a spoonful of his soup. It’s only Jaehyun and Younghoon at dinner tonight. You decided you were too tired to attend.

“How so?” Jaehyun questions, swirling his spoon around the bowl.

“The cook made your favorite soup, and you’ve had only two spoons of it so far.”

“I ate earlier.”

“It’s not just that Jaehyun.” Younghoon adds, and Jaehyun holds back a groan, dreading the coming conversation. “What’s gotten into you?” Jaehyun shrugs. And he can’t help but notice how sad Younghoon sounds when he says: “You aren’t yourself around her.”

Jaehyun drops his spoon, placing his hands on his knees. “I just don’t trust her Younghoon. Something about her unsettles me.”

Younghoon takes another sip of his soup. “You’re entitled to your judgement, but that does not mean you’re entitled to treat her so rudely. I just want the two of you to make peace. And believe it or not, she wants to make peace too.”

Jaehyun huffs; he doesn’t feel like giving in easily tonight. “If the Gift wants to make peace, then let her make it.”

“She’s already tried. And if you must call her something, she prefers Fortitude.”

“Fortitude isn’t a name—”

“Neither is Gift.”

“— it’s a title, Younghoon.”

“And what would you do if a title was the only name you had?”

Jaehyun bites the inside of his cheek, mumbling, “but what if it’s not the only name she has?”

Younghoon shakes his head in frustration. “Jaehyun, I can only advise you to make peace. It’s up to you whether you do or not.”

And with that Younghoon leaves from the dining room. Jaehyun finishes the rest of his dinner alone.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You were unhappy. You didn’t want to be at Lord Jaehyun’s estate in these strange southern lands. You did not want to be somewhere you were unwelcome. Even before your return to the Golden Palace, you never traveled too far away from the King’s City. The thought of being so far away from the lands you’re used to calling home makes your skin itch.

There’s a knock on your door. You open it to a young servant girl. “Lady Gift, Lord Jaehyun is asking if you would like to accompany him on a walk to the beach.”

You wonder for a second if this is some sort of joke. You can’t imagine Jaehyun waking up and deciding he wants to spend time with you willingly. Then you suspect if Younghoon put him up to it.

“You can tell him I’m coming and that I’ll meet him by the back gates.”

You get dressed quickly and walk down the estate to the gates. When you arrive, Lord Jaehyun is already waiting, facing away from the estate and towards the grassy path.

“Lord Jaehyun.”

He nods at your greeting, and the walk begins in silence.

“You seem to already know your way around the estate.” Jaehyun mentions by the time the grass and sand have begun to mix under your feet.

“Younghoon gave me a very thorough tour this morning.”

Jaehyun laughs but it sounds small and strained. “Yes, Younghoon is not the type to spare any details.”

You settle back into a silence. You’re surprised with how civil the walk has been so far, and you duly note how this might be the first time Jaehyun hasn’t stared at you hatefully. With another look at the boy, you find that his eyes—when they aren’t filled with anger—are actually quite kind. You also find beauty in the way the sunlight bounces off them. You smile.

“Lord Jaehyun,” you address softly, “did Younghoon put you up to this?”

He chuckles, and instead of answering your question, he says: “Lady Gift, I would like to apologize for how I treated you these past couple days. I am not used to the happenings of the Golden Palace. I was shocked. But that’s no excuse for how I acted. I’m sorry. I truly am.”

For the second time that day, you’re surprised, and not only because Jaehyun is apologizing but also because of how sincerely he sounds saying it.

“Thank you, Lord Jaehyun.”

He shakes his head. “It’s the least I could do, Lady Gift. But I hope you accept this as an apology for my behavior as well, and that you find it in you to forgive me.”

You nod. “I’ll forgive you if you agree to drop the formalities.”

Jaehyun claps his hands. “Doesn’t seem like you’re getting nearly as much out of this arrangement as I am, but I accept nonetheless.” He stops walking and holds out his hand. “Do we have an agreement?”

You shake his outstretched hand. “I suppose we do.”

He smiles, and you’re shocked for the third time that day. Shocked that the man before you is the same one you met at the Golden Palace. The same man whose hatred for you was so strong you could have sensed it across a room. The same man who is taking you on this walk and no longer calling you Gift. Shocked that Jaehyun is the one to make the peace you wanted so badly.

You find yourself to be smiling too.

“Come on,” Jaehyun says, continuing the walk, “I think it’s about time you saw the sea.”

You both continue down the now sandy path. You admire the way Jaehyun so easily walks in the sand. You, on the other hand, struggle to adapt to your feet sinking and shifting in the ground beneath you.

Jaehyun tells you that walking in the sand will get easier with time. It takes a moment for you to register the fact that he noticed.

“Wow,” is all you can say at the blue expanse before you. You think Roen was right. The paintings do not do justice to the sea. The paintings were unable to capture the real thing.

“You said that blue is your favorite shade of the Zalazar River right?”

Your smile widens. “Yes, but this…” you motion to the water, “this is even better.”

Jaehyun hums triumphantly. “Accept this as a peace offering.”

“Oh Jaehyun, we have already bargained and made peace.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re actually terrible at bargaining.” He laughs. “That deal was far too uneven for me to accept with dignity. So please, accept this instead.”

“I was not aware you knew how to make a joke.” You tease.

“Please,” he repeats, sounding suddenly serious.

You tilt your head. “I also was not aware the sea was yours to give as peace offerings.”

“It’s not.” He bites back a smile. “But it is yours to take.”

You think for a moment. And when the next wave crashes into the shore, you nod.

***

You send a message with the Risal to Roen that night.

Dear Roen, I hope things at the palace are doing well. You were right. The sea is so much more than I thought. The sea is something else entirely. Give everyone my love. -Fortitude

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun is sitting at his desk. He has piles of papers to sort through, file, fill out, and sign, and yet he can’t seem to focus on the small amount of work he’s obliged to do as a Lord. Instead he’s focused on the view outside the window of his office which overlooks the courtyard. More specifically, he focuses on the way you sit at the edge of the fountain teasing a stray cat with a loose string. Suddenly, you look towards the sky and stick your arm out. A bird swoops down from nowhere and perches itself on your extended forearm. Jaehyun wonders if your abilities as a Gift include an inclination towards animals. The bird drops an envelope in your lap; you read the cover before setting it down beside you. Jaehyun squints at the scene and recognizes the bird as your Risal. This piques his interest.

“Younghoon,” Jaehyun calls out. Younghoon tends to keep Jaehyun company while he works, reading a book in the corner armchair. But when Jaehyun is met with silence, he looks over to find the book closed on his lap and Younghoon fast asleep. Jaehyun covers Younghoon with a blanket and exits his office silently. He figures he might as well go for a walk if he isn’t going to get any work done.

When he finds you in the courtyard, the cat has settled down in your lap, and the Risal sits on the stretch of fountain ledge next to you. You seem to sense Jaehyun behind you before he bothers to make his presence known.

“Have you already finished your work Jaehyun?” You ask, not turning around to face him. He walks the circumference of the fountain before stopping a little before you and answering.

“Not exactly.” He sits down on the fountain ledge next to the Risal.

“Well,” you mumble scratching a place behind the cat’s ear, “I suppose now is as good a time for a break as any.”

“Yes, I thought so too.” Jaehyun responds, more focused on the bird in front of him. “Can I pet it?”

You nod. You advise him to start at the beak until the bird trusts him. It doesn’t take long for the bird to nuzzle under his palm.

“It likes you.” you say, sounding a little shocked. “Winning a Risal’s trust usually takes much longer.”

Jaehyun smiles shyly. The two of you settle into a silence. You scratching the stray cat to sleep and Jaehyun running his hand along the bird in awe. It had become like that between you two. There was never much conversation and yet somehow the silences you shared never felt empty or weird. Jaehyun isn’t sure if he can truly trust you, but he does know he was wrong about you. You’re no monster. In fact, you’re just as human as him and Younghoon.

“How do they work?” Jaehyun wonders, looking up from the bird. “The Risals.”

You sit up slightly. “Would you like to see?”

He nods. You set the cat down on the ground and beckon for Jaehyun to stand up as well.

You collect the Risal on your arm and start walking away from him. “Move farther away.” You tell him. “It won’t work if we’re too close.”

Once you are the entire length of the courtyard apart, you nod in approval and say something Jaehyun can’t hear to the bird. The bird suddenly launches itself from your arm and soars into the sky. Jaehyun closely watches how the Risal disappears behind the clouds.

You cup your hands around your mouth and shout from across the courtyard: “When you hear a bird’s screech, hold out your arm.”

Jaehyun waits a moment. Eventually the screech comes, and Jaehyun thinks how you forgot to mention how loud it would be. The screech makes him jump and clasp his arms over his ears. You don't even flinch. Jaehyun looks to see if the cat is spooked and finds that the cat is still peacefully asleep on the ground. Out of the corner his eye, he sees you pointing wildly at his arm. Jaehyun quickly sticks it out. He looks up at the sky only to see the Risal already swooping down and landing neatly on his arm. His mouth opens in shock.

“Now,” you yell, “tell it to go to me.”

Jaehyun looks the Risal in the eye. He wonders if this is all some elaborate joke. The bird couldn’t possibly understand him if he were to speak to it, right? Then he wonders if he’s mad for believing that it can. He inhales.

“Go to the Gift of Fortitude.”

And Jaehyun swears the Risal seems to nod before leaping off his arm and flying straight up into the sky once more. He watches the sky keenly, and then also covers his ears with his hands in anticipation of the screech. It never comes. Instead, the bird dives down from the sky, calming landing on your outstretched arm. Jaehyun runs to you immediately.

“How come there was no screech this time?” Jaehyun asks breathlessly, meeting you at your end of the courtyard.

“There was.” You say simply, petting the bird. Jaehyun furrows his brows. “The screech is only heard by the one who the Risal is meant for.” It clicks for Jaehyun then why you didn’t flinch and why the cat is still in a ball by the fountain.

“So,” Jaehyun says slowly, “how does the Risal understand the name you tell it?”

You shrug.

“What if you get the name wrong? Or there’s multiple people with that name?”

You shrug again. “They’re never wrong though, in my experiences at least. It’s almost as if they understand the intent more than the name itself.”

“And the way it just disappears into the sky?”

“Remarkable isn’t it?”

Jaehyun smiles at the child-like excitement in your voice. He nods. “They must be incredibly smart creatures.”

“They’re not just smart.” You begin scratching a spot under the Risal’s beak. The bird melts under your touch. “They’re magical.”

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

Dear Fortitude, I thought you’d like the sea. Things at the palace are as fine as can be. Orindell misses you dearly. I’ll keep you updated on Father and other palace occurrings. Although in all honesty, things have been quiet since your departure. I hope you’re resting well and enjoying the southern scenery despite the circumstances. Give my regards to Captain Younghoon and Lord Jaehyun. -Roen

—LORD JAEHYUN—

“The service was long today.” Jaehyun states exiting the temple with Younghoon and you. The southern temples, unlike the palace temple, were old and traditionally built. This temple in particular had been built long before the Holy Wars.

“I didn’t think so.” Younghoon says, swatting a hand around his face to shoo away a bug. “What did you think?”

But when they look over at you, you appear to be somewhere else altogether. Suddenly, you still.

“Is that a…” you begin, your voice small, unbelieving.

Jaehyun follows your gaze to a building at the top of the hill behind the temple. He follows your gaze to the sanctuary. You start walking towards the hill before Jaehyun and Younghoon can stop you.

The sanctuary hasn’t been used in years, and the state of it shocks Jaehyun. In fact, the sanctuary itself shocks Jaehyun. He’s never been inside one. His knowledge of them was limited to what he had seen and read in textbooks growing up. Before the Holy Wars, all temples used to have sanctuaries nearby. They were built in honor of the Seven Sins and Seven Gifts of the Spirit. Sculptures were meant to line the walls of the sanctuaries, seven on the left for the Sins and seven on the right for the Gifts. And at the front of the sanctuaries, a sculpture of Maratelli the archangel was meant to stand tall. However after the Holy Wars, most sanctuaries were destroyed by mobs. People no longer felt the need to pay their respects to the beings who started the war that nearly destroyed the kingdom. The few sanctuaries that weren’t burned to the ground were left vandalized, most of the sculptures reduced to rubble.

The sanctuary Jaehyun, Younghoon, and you stand in is no exception. Cobwebs cover all the walls and a thick layer of dust clouds everything in sight. The sanctuary is hauntingly cold and damp. Only two sculptures are left standing: Maratelli’s, whose arms and wings have been broken off, and one of the Gifts. Upon closer examination, Jaehyun finds that the other standing sculpture is the one dedicated to you, the Gift of Fortitude. The face of the sculpture is gone as if someone chipped away at the stone until the contours of the face disappeared. And on top of the blank stone where the face should be, die is written in black paint and monster is written on the torso. The sight makes Jaehyun sick to the stomach.

But that’s not where Jaehyun finds you. Instead, Jaehyun and Younghoon find you kneeling on the floor next to the broken stone of what once was a sculpture dedicated to the Sin of Pride. Jaehyun helplessly realizes the tragedy that must litter your past in the way that everyone you once knew died before your eyes. You bow your head to the floor and sob. Jaehyun feels like an intruder in this moment, as if he’s watching something personal and private, something not meant for his eyes. The broken marble you bury your face into does little to conceal the pain in your sobs, and Jaehyun can’t help the way his heart aches at the sheer amount of heartbreak that rings from your cries.

Jaehyun and Younghoon decide to wait for you outside.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

“If I may ask, when was the last time you had a worthy opponent?” Younghoon asks, breaking the silence of your lunch. Only you and Younghoon were present today.

You think it over for a moment. It's been a while since you’ve fought anyone. Even while training Juyeon and the Princes, you never fought them yourself. “The Holy Wars most likely.”

Younghoon nods, placing a hand under his chin. “Not that I would make one, but one of these days could we fight?”

You suck in a breath. Younghoon’s question feels foreign in your mind. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“Just a friendly scuffle?”

“I don’t—“

“Or perhaps a sword fight?”

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“We could set up rules to prevent such, and I can take a little pain. I might be retired but—”

“No, Younghoon.” You cut him off. “I don’t want to fight you.”

He shrinks back into his seat. “Forgive me. But…” he hesitates, “can I ask why not?”

You sigh. “I don’t fight for pleasure anymore.”

***

The sea is quieter than usual and the waves crash in whispers the day you and Younghoon go for a walk along the shore. You had quickly adapted to the way your feet sink in the sand; and today, you find comfort in it.

It’s also the day that Younghoon reveals his plans to head home soon. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that this wasn’t Younghoon’s home. He explains how his family lives farther east and how he splits his time between Jaehyun’s estate and his own home, travelling back and forth frequently. And when you question why he even bothers returning to Jaehyun’s estate, why he bothers leaving home, Younghoon laughs loudly and explains that Jaehyun pays him good money to stay and keep him company. You also hadn’t realized that this was Younghoon’s job.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

“Don’t you think it’s a little desperate to pay Younghoon to leave his family and keep you company?” You tease as you and Jaehyun wave goodbye to Younghoon.

Jaehyun scoffs, side eyeing Younghoon’s retreating figure. “Is that what he told you?” You nod. “I’ll have you know he was staying for free before I insisted on him accepting the money.”

You laugh, and Jaehyun notices the way your eyes crinkle. “Yes, yes. I figured as much.”

The young servant girl appears then, asking Jaehyun if anything more is needed. Jaehyun tells her she can go home for the day, and she flushes a dark red. Jaehyun notices how you notice.

And when the servant girl leaves, Jaehyun watches the way you smile, your lips concealing a secret.

“Fortitude,” he blurts, “would you like to go on a walk with me?”

***

“What’s her name? The young servant girl?” You ask as you both start along the path towards the beach.

“Vina.”

“And how old is she?”

“15 come winter I believe.”

You nod slowly, a smile similar to the one before growing on your face. “It’s cute, how smitten she is by you.”

Jaehyun bites his bottom lip. “I don’t mean to make her…” He trails off, unable to find the right words.

“Smile less.”

Jaehyun quirks his head, looking up at you. “My smile…?”

You nod. “It’s your smile she falls for.”

Jaehyun lets the statement sink, and the wind seems to pick up while he does. A sound faintly resembling a growl comes from you. He looks over to find you struggling to keep your hair at bay, the dark locks flying wildly in the wind.

You huff, annoyed. “I didn’t bring anything to tie it back with.”

“You could braid it.” Jaehyun suggests.

You run a hand through your hair in another attempt to push it back. “How terrible is it that I never learned how to braid it myself?”

Jaehyun blinks at you. You pick at a spot below your chin.

“Don’t laugh.” you stutter, but it’s too late because Jaehyun is already chuckling behind his hand. You shove him, hard.

“Would you like me to braid it for you?”

You look at him, your hair unattractively covering your face. You push it back, determining whether Jaehyun’s offer is genuine or not.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Your shoulders drop. “Yes please.”

Jaehyun moves behind you, gathering your hair in his hands and beginning to braid it.

“Where’d you learn how to braid anyways?” You ask, voice raised to be heard against the wind.

“My sister, Insia, would make me braid her hair sometimes.”

You shove a loose strand behind your ear. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“She’s illegitime. Technically, we both are. My father never married.”

“Where is she?” You wonder aloud as Jaehyun finishes the braid off.

“She married an islander, gave up her ladyship to do so, and now lives there with him.” Jaehyun allows his eyes to drift towards the sea. Islands were peppered all along the coast, and the island Insia and her husband and kids lived on was only a couple hours from here by boat. Jaehyun made sure they visited each other often enough, and wrote to each other even more frequently.

“It must be nice.” You mutter, focused on knotting the end of your braid. “To have a sibling.”

And Jaehyun swears he’s never heard anyone sound so lonely.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

The walks along the shore had become a daily activity for you and Jaehyun, but today Jaehyun was busy which left you helplessly bored and laying in your bed staring at the ceiling. Your mind had begun to wander to Peter and his impossible journey, to Juyeon and your forgotten conversation, to the King and his future plans, and to Lord Seth. Maybe the King was smart to send you here after all, being far away from the Golden Palace made you forget why you were sent here to begin with. It was easy to ignore the gravity of the palace issues here at Jaehyun’s estate. It was easy to push aside the fog in your mind when you thought about your past. It was almost too easy to throw your worries into the sea and watch them crash against the rocks.

So when Vina walks in with a fresh load of laundry, you don't hesitate to ask if the young girl would care to accompany you on a walk. And when Vina agrees, you’re grateful that you’ve found a distraction.

When you ask why Vina works, you learn that she is the oldest of seven. You frown at the thought of Vina's wages going all to her family, but she’s quick to tell you not to worry. Apparently Jaehyun pays the estate staff well. The thought makes you smile. A question arises at the faint blush appearing on Vina’s cheeks. You hesitate a little.

“Vina, do you happen to have a crush on Lord Jaehyun?”

Vina freezes like a deer. “Oh Lady Gift, it isn’t like that please don’t misunderstand.” She shakes her head vigorously. “It’s just that… Lord Jaehyun has shown me nothing but kindness and I-“ She cuts herself off, fidgeting with her fingers. You assure her that it’s okay. Vina continues unsurely. “It’s just that it’s hard to not direct my feeling of gratitude in that way.”

“And,” you hum, nudging her shoulder, “I’m sure it doesn’t help how handsome Lord Jaehyun is.”

An embarrassed smile emerges on Vina’s face, and it turns almost mischievous when she says: “I would like it to go on record that I was not the one who said it.”

You erupt in laughter.

***

If you knew Vina wasn’t skilled in the art of keeping things to herself, you wouldn’t have admitted to the young girl your thoughts of Jaehyun’s face. But alas, you had, and there was nothing you could do to stop the gossiping of a young girl. It was just your luck that Jaehyun took it upon himself to tease you for the admission endlessly.

The day the teasing stops is the day you want nothing more than to shoot an arrow.

To your dismay, Jaehyun’s estate does not house an archery gallery. But when Jaehyun learns of your desire, he offers an alternative. So with the bow and arrow you brought from the Golden Palace and wooden plates acting as targets held up by Jaehyun himself, your wish is granted.

You notch an arrow and breathe, taking note of the wind shift before letting the arrow fly. It hits the plate exactly where you had sent it.

“So is it safe to assume that archery is another gift you have as a Gift?” Jaehyun shouts to you from across the beach, pulling the arrow from out the plate and dropping it in a pile.

“Yes, it is.” You respond, grabbing another arrow from beside you. You take notice of how nonchalantly Jaehyun stands. “Are you not frightened by me shooting arrows towards a target that lies in your hand?”

He shrugs. “Well, are you scared?”

You’re taken aback by the question, but you aren’t scared. The arrow would land only where you wanted it to.

“No.”

“Then why should I be.” Jaehyun says easily, holding the target back up. “Also, I know you’d never purposely hurt me.” He adds with a coy smile. “You think I’m too handsome.”

You string the arrow in less than a second, aiming straight for Jaehyun’s face. “What was that?”

A giggling Jaehyun cowers behind the target and runs.

***

Sleep doesn’t come to you that night. Your mind runs wild with thoughts of the Golden Palace. You think and overthink the events that led up to Peter being sent away and then again the ones that led up to Lord Seth’s untimely death. You find that the memories slip past your fingers, a fog encompassing them. The same fog that clouds your memories of the past. It appears that your mind houses more fog than actual memories. It appears that the fog is driving you mad.

You elect to think of something new. Your eyes land on the Risal from Roen you have yet to respond to. You would’ve sent one back sooner if the line about Orindell didn’t make you so upset. You reluctantly recall your last conversation with him. He was still the same foolish little boy you have always known. You suppose that’s what makes your falling out so heartbreaking. You have known all three princes from the moment they were born. You raised them alongside Roe, their mother and your dearest friend, and when Roe passed, you raised them like they were your own family. Not exactly like a mother, but something more akin to a cousin or an aunt. The three princes were the closest thing you had to a family, and the thought that Orindell could love you romantically repulsed you. You were mad at Orindell, disappointed in him, and yet, you still miss him as much as you miss Roen and Peter. You long to talk with the three princes like you once did, before Orindell loved you and before they were old enough to concern themselves with the state of the kingdom and the state of their own father. And this time, the longing is what drives you mad.

You decide that thinking will only lead to misery tonight, and with a glance at the full moon outside your window, you also decide a walk must be better than lying here, drowning in your own thoughts. You pull on a pair slippers before silently exiting your room.

The beach is quiet tonight. The waves tease and kiss the shore and then disappear back into the sea. While you walk, you think about all the ways the sea has shown itself to you. You only realize how far you’ve walked when you reach the rocks.

You were told about the rocky cliffs that laid a little to the west of Jaehyun’s estate by Jaehyun, Younghoon, and Vina. But you had never walked so far with either of them to see them yourself.

The waves don’t seem larger here, but they crash against the rocks as if they are. The waves and the rocks clash like two forces in battle. Somehow the image and the sound bring a bit of comfort to the battle raging in your mind.

Where you stand, the rocks are scattered, but further along the beach, the rocks multiply and gather until they completely cover the sand. The rocks start flat and then pile on top of each other until you’re staring at the rocky cliffs you have heard so much about. You think you like this rocky beach more than the sandy one you’ve grown accustomed to.

You stiffen when you notice a figure sitting on one of the flat rocks. The person looks tired in the way they sit with their shoulders dropped and dragging, and yet the person is so captivated by the sea they don’t even notice you coming. Upon closer examination, you realize that you recognize the figure sitting alone on the rocks. Your guard drops when you realize the person is Jaehyun.

“Jaehyun,” you say, appearing behind him, carefully walking towards where he sits on the rocks.

“Ah, Fortitude.” He doesn’t flinch at your appearance. He doesn’t even bother taking his eyes off the water. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You hum. “And you?”

He shakes his head. “Younghoon calls this spot the insomniac's bed.”

“Do you come here often then?”

“Nearly every night.” He looks away from the sea and stares at you still standing behind him.“Please,” he stutters, patting a dry patch of rock next to him, “sit.” You do.

“Is it safe to jump into the water from there?” You ask suddenly.

You wait for Jaehyun to follow your eyes. “Ah, from the cliff?” You nod. “It isn’t safe to jump from most cliffs. There could be rocks in the water, or if the waves are too strong they could push you back against the base of the cliff.”

“Yes, but what about this cliff?”

Jaehyun sighs, although he doesn’t sound tired or frustrated. “They call that cliff Angel’s Peak.”

“Why?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Because you’ll need the wings of an angel to survive it.”

“Oh.” You don't think about it any further.

The two of you don’t speak, the waves that crash against the rocks do that for you. You let the sound overwhelm you, feeling more peace and more clarity than you’ve felt in years.

As a Gift of the Spirit, you lived longer than most, and part of your powers allow you to stay young. You could though, grow old. You could wake up one day and decide to start aging again. You could let herself wrinkle and grey like everyone else. But after King Avi died, after the last person who knew you as more than just a Gift stopped aging, you did too. You have been told that even though your face doesn’t show your age, your eyes do. It’s been said that your eyes tell the story of all the years you’ve endured.

You study Jaehyun. This must be it, you think. This must be what people see when they look at your eyes because when you look at Jaehyun’s, you can see the life he’s endured behind them. You can see the age behind the brown. You wonder what Jaehyun must be thinking in this moment to make his life appear so long and sad. You wonder how Jaehyun manages to feel like an equal to you despite your life being so much longer. You wonder—

“How old are you?”

If Jaehyun’s shocked by the sudden question, he doesn’t show it. “As old as Peter,” then with a sigh he adds, “but I feel as old as you.”

And with the way Jaehyun says it, as if he holds mountains on his shoulders, you believe him.

“Well, maybe not as old as you,” Jaehyun continues, talking quickly as if he misspoke. “I just meant that I feel old. Or at least older than I am.”

“No,” you mumble, picking at a loose strand, “I think I understand.”

“Can I ask you a question then?”

“Depends.”

Jaehyun waits a beat as if he’s testing the words on his tongue first. “How old are you?”

You inhale. “Too old, Jaehyun.”

He doesn’t ask you to explain any further, but when you think about the years behind Jaehyun’s eyes, something in you yearns to tell him more anyways.

“It’s a lonely thing to do,” you continue, eyes trained on the water, “to get old but not grow old.”

“So then why don’t you?”

“These days, I’m not so sure.” You meet Jaehyun’s gaze, and suddenly you feel as tired as you do old.

“Good night, Jaehyun,” you tell him, standing up, “I hope sleep comes to you soon.”

***

Dear Roen, I miss the old days. Why did you boys have to grow so old? Why did things have to get so difficult? Keep me updated on palace news, but spare me the court’s gossip. I worry about Peter too much for my own good. Tell me if you hear anything from him. Tell Orindell that I miss him too, but that I’ve missed him long before I left the Golden Palace. -Fortitude

—LORD JAEHYUN—

The wind was softer and the sun hid behind the clouds more often after that night at the rocks. It was hard for Jaehyun to explain, but after that day, something had changed. You let him in, and suddenly, things were different. You would ask Jaehyun to braid your hair again, and he’d do it with a smile. He found himself craving more.

So when he asks you if you were born as a Gift of the Spirit, he knows he’s been thinking about the question long before he felt comfortable enough to ask it.

“No.” You tell him, kicking your feet in the sand. “I was born normal. Just like anyone else.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun says softly.

“It happened when I was six.” You continue. “The other six Gifts came to my village, told me I was destined to be Fortitude, and that was that.”

“Six?” Jaehyun repeats, saddened by how young you were. You nod. “You never got to be a kid.”

Your mouth twitches. “Yeah.”

And when the frown that appears on your lips pulls at a certain part of Jaehyun, he decides he wants to help you take back a little piece of your stolen past. “Tell me something you wish you could’ve done.”

You squint at him.

“As a child, what’s one thing you wish you could’ve done?”

You exhale deeply. “Oh, I don’t know.” You pause, then laugh a little. “I guess, run.”

It was Jaehyun’s turn to squint. “Run?”

“I mean to run like a child. Barefoot and wild and mad.”

Jaehyun starts pulling his shoes off.

“Well,” Jaehyun states when you give him a blank stare, “are you going to run with me or what?”

Slowly, you begin pulling your boots off too. Then once you’re both barefoot, feet sinking in the cold sand, Jaehyun nods, and

you run.

By the time you stop, the air has emptied itself from Jaehyun’s lungs. You, on the other hand, glow with something Jaehyun can’t put his finger on, but you glow and smile so brightly Jaehyun thinks the numbness in his legs is worth it.

Jaehyun only realizes you’ve run as far as the rocks when you start climbing up to the top of Angel’s Peak. Jaehyun begrudgingly climbs up the cliff behind you.

When you finally reach the top, Jaehyun sits, exhausted and lets his legs dangle over the edge. He inhales, refilling his lungs with the sea’s salty mist.

Jaehyun loves the sea. He loves the water. It’s almost as if the water is a part of him, as if the salty sea carries his heart between the waves. And somehow the water loves Jaehyun back. Insia used to call him a mermaid because of how well he swims, and at one point, Jaehyun had convinced himself he was. Jaehyun feels at home by the sea. He feels peace listening to the seagulls and the lapping water. If time allowed it, Jaehyun would spend years staring at the blue water.

Today however, sitting on top of the rocky cliffs with the Gift of Fortitude, Jaehyun doesn’t watch the sun dip into the ocean and disappear beyond the horizon. Today Jaehyun watches you. He watches how you seem to be smiling without a smile. He watches the water spray on your forehead and the scrunch of your nose when it does. He watches stories of a kingdom before his birth and of people he will never meet unfold behind your eyes. He wonders how much time he could spend staring at you.

You meet his eyes, and Jaehyun doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look so happy. Yet for some reason, when your lips do turn up in a smile, all he can think of is the image of you at the sanctuary. How you knelt on the floor and clutched the crushed marble belonging to the Sin of Pride. All he can think of is the soul-crushing amount of hurt in your cries.

Jaehyun hesitates.

“Who was the Sin of Pride to you?”

In that moment, the seagulls seem to turn quiet, and the waves seem to pause a second away from hitting the rocks. Jaehyun thinks he’s gone too far or that he’s asked you too much. In that moment, Jaehyun wants to swallow the words back. But before he can, the seagulls break their silence, screeching somewhere in the clouds. And the waves don’t just hit the rocks, they slam and bang and beat against them. Jaehyun coughs the words up before he can take them back. Your lips part, and Jaehyun’s forced to watch as a new story unfolds behind your eyes, one of youth, loss, hurt, and hate. And then you surprise him by smiling.

“The Sin of Pride,” you start tucking your knees under your chin, “was my best friend before I was a Gift and he was a Sin. His name was Sunwoo, and we grew up in the same village. He was announced as the Sin of Pride a week before I was.”

Jaehyun repeats the name in his mind. Then once outloud. You blink as if it’s weird to hear it said by someone else. It sparks Jaehyun’s curiosity, and he wonders aloud if you had a name before Fortitude.

“I did, but I’m no longer the person that name was given to.” You say, voice low and cold.

“Forgive me if I intruded.”

You shake your head. “You asked. There’s a difference.”

He turns his eyes to the water. “Is it hard to remember?”

“Usually.” You tell him with a small pout. Then after a pause you add: “When I think about the past, there’s this fog, and that fog makes remembering painful. In fact the headache I had the morning we first met was caused by trying to remember something the night before. But right now, the fog in my mind isn’t so thick; right now, I’m not struggling to remember.”

Jaehyun listens to you speak intently. He doesn’t want to push you, but he can’t help his own curiosity. So when Jaehyun hears an invitation laced within the tone of your voice. Jaehyun realizes that some part of you wants to remember as much as Jaehyun wants to know.

And so, he says: “Tell me about your past.”

And you do.

You tell Jaehyun about the village you grew up in and your parents. You describe to him how different and peaceful the kingdom was under the reign of the Queen Raffa who ruled when you were young. You tell him about Sunwoo and the week he was taken. Then, you tell him about the week you were taken yourself.

“Back then, all the Sins and Gifts were adored by the people, they were loved.” You recall, and Jaehyun can’t help but notice the jealousy that seeps between the crack in your voice. “They rode with such confidence and were respected by the people. So respected that my mother didn’t even hesitate to let them take me away.” This time sadness is what seeps through the crack.

“Where’d they take you?”

You halt at Jaehyun’s question. “I don’t remember,” you say slowly as if you aren’t sure of the words leaving your own mouth. “The next thing I do remember is arriving at the Golden Palace, but by then, they had already made me the Gift of Fortitude.”

“How do you mean?”

“I’m not sure.” You scratch at your chin. “And now that I think about it, it must’ve been at least a year between when I left my family to when I was taken to the Golden Palace.”

Jaehyun turns to you, wondering how you could possibly lose an entire year of memory, and then wondering how terrible it must be for you knowing that you have.

“Did you get to see your family again?”

You shake your head. “My mother fought and died in the Holy Wars. I saw my father once, after it was all over, but he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He wanted nothing to do with the person who was on the side of the war his wife died fighting against.”

“But what about the fact that you're his daughter?”

You bite your bottom lip. “At that point, he no longer saw me as his daughter.”

Jaehyun can’t imagine how much it must hurt to admit, especially considering how much it hurts Jaehyun to even hear.

“But it was okay, because I never really knew my father and because I had Sunwoo and later Avi too.” You tell Jaehyun with a smile. “By the time Sunwoo and I became Sins and Gifts, the two groups were already fighting; they just hadn’t made it into a war yet. Raffa went as far as having the Gifts and Sins stay in opposite wings of the Golden Palace to avoid confrontation. Sunwoo and I used to sneak out to the palace roof at nights just to talk. But then,” your smile turns down, “Raffa was killed.”

Jaehyun knows this part although you repeat the story written in textbooks anyways. The Queen was murdered under an order from the Gifts, and by the time her son, Avi, took the throne, the Seven Gifts had fled from the palace, marking the start of the Holy Wars.

“I didn’t see Sunwoo much after that. The next and last time I saw him was right before he died.” You continue.

“Is that why you switched sides?”

You nod. “As Sins and Gifts, we’re gifted with fighting skill, but our injuries are fatal. That’s how most of the Sins and Gifts died during the Holy Wars. So when I heard news that Sunwoo had been injured, I knew it was only a matter of time until he would be dead too. He was being nursed inside the Golden Palace, and as a Gift, I wasn’t allowed in. So King Avi struck me a deal. Avi said that if I protected him and stayed loyal to him until his death, he would allow me to come to the palace and see Sunwoo.”

You stop to breathe. Jaehyun doesn’t say anything, but you watch him as if you’re waiting for him too. Jaehyun thinks it’s wrong, what King Avi did. Jaehyun thinks he had no right to make you indebted to him. Somehow, you seem to sense what Jaehyun’s thinking.

“It’s easy to point blame, but in reality, the line between right and wrong and between good intentions and bad ones are more blurred than they appear. Avi wasn’t much older than me. Avi watched his mother die in the wake of this conflict between the Sins and Gifts, a conflict he had nothing to do with. Avi was as young and as desperate and as scared as I was, only he was the King. By then, I was only 13. I didn’t know much better. I was desperate and more scared of losing my best friend over the trust of the last remaining Gift so… I accepted. I sacrificed everything to watch Sunwoo take his dying breath.”

Through the memories you share with him, Jaehyun begins to understand. He learns more about the Holy Wars through your pain and fear than he ever did in his history lessons. But most of all, Jaehyun understands that you were too young to shoulder the weight of war.

“When the last remaining Gift other than me died, I gave up the war. I ended five years of wasted blood and pointless death just like that.” You pick at the sand under your nail. “I never liked the war. I was never even told what we were fighting for until the war was over.” You say, and if you can tell how surprised Jaehyun is to hear that you didn't even know the reason for the Holy Wars, you ignore it. “I fought blindly, and I surrendered blindly too.”

Jaehyun stays silent, but his mind runs wild. How many days did you spend on a battlefield? How many lives did you take? How much blood did you allow to shed for a cause you didn’t even know?

“Do you regret it?” He asks, focused on the water because at that moment Jaehyun can’t trust himself to look at you.

You’re quiet.

“I regret it all.”

The image of you weeping in the sanctuary appears in Jaehyun’s mind again. He hears something new in his memory of your cries. He hears regret.

The small part of Jaehyun that’s upset with you dissolves the moment he looks over and sees the regret that darkens your eyes. In that moment, Jaehyun can’t manage to feel anything but pity towards the person next to him.

“It's terrible what I did.” You say solemnly. “I sat idly by while half the kingdom died before my eyes. I know that people call me a monster, and how can I say that I’m not when I’m responsible for the deaths of so many?” You look at him, but Jaehyun feels frozen because he can’t seem to let go of the fact that you were only 13 when this all happened.

“Fortitude,” Jaehyun says gently with all the love he can muster. Love to make up for the hate you so deeply feel. Not towards anyone, not towards the world. But the shocking amount of hate you feel towards yourself. “No part of you is a monster. Because the Holy Wars were not your fault. And because it never will be.”

Jaehyun can see something in you come apart. Jaehyun can see the deep-rooted hate you have harbored for yourself escape from the corners of your eyes.

And when Jaehyun says, “The sins of your predecessors are not yours to suffer,” he swears he hears something within you break.

You both stare at the sea in a deafening silence. It’s a long time before anyone speaks again. But by the time Jaehyun does say something, the heavy air has been taken away by the current.

“Although I’m still curious,” you motion for Jaehyun to continue, “what did the Holy Wars turn out to be about?”

You close your eyes and keep them closed for longer than Jaehyun can call normal. When you do open your eyes again, they’re angry, and there’s just a hint of venom in your voice when you say: “I can’t remember.”

You throw your hands up. “Oh Jaehyun, there’s so much I don’t know. About this kingdom and its history. About me and what it means to be a Gift of the Spirit. I don’t even know if there was a Gift of Fortitude before me. All of these things I was supposed to learn from the other Gifts. They were meant to teach me and mentor me, but they were too concerned with their own conflict. They left me with so many unanswered questions and unsolved mysteries. Half of which concern myself. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as it is if Avi didn’t have all the libraries burned to the ground and all of the historic scrolls and teachings from the Elders reduced to ashes with it. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so lost.”

Jaehyun halts. “It was King Avi?” He questions in disbelief, remembering the mysterious burnings of all the libraries in the kingdom except for the one residing in the Golden Palace. “King Avi was the one who set fires to the libraries?”

“Oh, right,” you sigh, “I forgot that was a secret.” And in the next moment, you’re nearly laughing. “You know Jaehyun, I’ve never told anyone these things before.”

Jaehyun tilts his head to the side. “Why not?”

“No one’s ever asked.”

Jaehyun watches the waves. He finds a picture of himself in the waves and one of you in the rocks. For he appears and is tall, grand, rolling, and proud, but then he crashes and disappears back into the murky waters. And the rocky cliffs watch it all happen. You are the cliff, still and unyielding; while Jaehyun is just another wave, there in the moment and gone in the next.

“Did you love him?” Jaehyun asks then, the image of the wave crashing against the rock replaying in his mind.

“Sunwoo?”

Jaehyun nods, and you look up to the sky.

“I was too young to even know what love looked like.”

It’s then that Jaehyun tastes the salt on his lips.

***

After that day, you’re bedridden for some time with a migraine. You spend so long locked in your room with the lights off, Jaehyun tries sending you a nurse. You refuse the help stubbornly but politely. The next time he sees you is when you feel well enough to join him for dinner.

“I hope you’re feeling better.” He says as Vina brings out plates with your meals.

“I am, thank you Jaehyun.” You take a bite of your food.

“Was it remembering that day that caused it?”

You nod. “I’ve never been able to recall that much before.” The statement sounds sad to Jaehyun, and yet, you say it happily. “The pain of the headache was worth how good it felt to remember.”

“Have you forgotten what you remembered?” Jaehyun asks, thinking back to when you said you usually forget again after.

“Oddly enough, I have not.” You smile. Jaehyun feels a little hot; he thinks the fire must’ve grown in the hearth.

“Jaehyun, do you know what Fortitude means?” Jaehyun shakes his head at your question as your dinner comes near an end. “I was told it meant courage.” You continue, clinking your fork against the plate.”And it feels like such a burden. To carry this responsibility. And to carry this name.”

Jaehyun stares at you. He watches the way your arms dangle by your side as if they would fall off at the drop of a hat. He watches how you keep your eyes on your now empty plate. He watches you keep a smile on your face despite the way your voice sounds so sad.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“That’s alright Jaehyun.” The corner of your lip quirks. “Sometimes it’s more important to be heard than to be understood.”

You stand up and excuse yourself from dinner. Jaehyun watches you go.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

When Younghoon finally returns to Jaehyun’s estate, it feels like he’s been gone for an eternity. You’re out in the market with Vina when he comes riding down the street on horseback. You call his name until he turns towards you. You have to unwrap the scarp you have fitted around your head and face before he recognizes you.

Later that day, you and Younghoon ride on horseback through a forest trail. You wonder aloud why he isn’t tired after sitting on a saddle for the better part of the day. He shrugs and says something about not minding the pain of riding in exchange for the scenery.

“Actually, I also wanted to talk to you about something.” You can hear the concern in Younghoon’s voice. You sit up on your horse. “Jaehyun’s father’s death anniversary is approaching.”

Oh.

“He tends to get very…” Younghoon trails off, scratching the stubble growing on his chin. “He just isn’t himself during this part of the year. I thought you might appreciate a warning.”

“Thank you, Younghoon.” You wait a beat. “Are you taking care of yourself?”

“How do you mean?”

“I heard you were close to Jaehyun’s father.”

“Oh,” he chuckles darkly, “I’ll be fine. It’s Jaehyun I worry about.”

“And who’s here to worry about you?”

Younghoon sighs. “Thank you for the concern.”

***

The day of the anniversary itself, Younghoon spends the entire day in his room and Jaehyun disappears somewhere on the beach, only returning to the estate to ready himself for the temple service that night. You think that the whole estate, not just the residents, but the walls, the stone, the furniture, the rugs; the whole estate seems to be in mourning. You find yourself wanting to mourn too.

There’s a knock on your door later that day while you’re reading a Risal from Roen.

“Come in.”

“Lady Gift, it’s time for the memorial service.”

You hum. “Give my peace to Lord Jaehyun and Captain Younghoon.”

“Uh, no, Lady Gift.” Vina shifts her weight. You look over to where she stands by the door. “It’s time for you to get dressed for the service.” You stare at Vina. “Lord Jaehyun requested that you attend the service as well.”

“Oh,” you’re taken aback. You hadn’t realized you were wanted.

You come down dressed in the traditional red color worn during burials and memorials. You do your best to find a red scarf to match. You meet Jaehyun downstairs, and he tells you that you’re still waiting for Younghoon.

You chew on your bottom lip, unsure and timid. Suddenly the clothes feel itchy on your skin. “Jaehyun, are you sure you want me to come?”

Jaehyun looks confused. “Why shouldn’t you”

“I mean I… I never really knew him.”

Jaehyun pouts. “There's a dock on the east side of the beach my father used to take me to. I went there today. While I was there, I was thinking about the service tonight, and I found myself thinking about you.” You swallow. “I thought about all that you shared with me the other day and about all the death you’ve seen. It’s probably better that you never knew my father. You have enough fires to light and people to mourn as it is. Remember one of them instead.”

Younghoon appears then before you can say anything back, and you all, including Vina, head to the temple in a solemn silence.

The temple is a sea of red. Younghoon whispers to you that Jaehyun’s father was loved by the people. You think that loved is an understatement; nearly the entire town has come out for the memorial service.

You watch the fire rage. It was tradition to light fires for the dead. Years ago, fires were only lit 30 days after the death itself, but somewhere along the line, it had been normalized to light fires on the death anniversaries as well. The fire the temple has lit tonight burns bright and tall, as tall as the temple itself. The air around the temple is more smoke and flames than oxygen. You almost feel as if you’re suffocating, not from the smoke, but from the strife of an entire town which burns in the fire and contaminates the air. You choke on the sadness saturating your lungs and lingering in your veins. Your heart empties in tune with the mourning of the people for their beloved Lord.

You inhale.

You watch as Jaehyun and Younghoon throw burning logs into the flames. Soon after, others follow, throwing their own burning logs into the growing fire. You have to take a step back from the flame. Or rather Vina pulls you back muttering something about how the flying embers are dangerous. But you could care less. All you can manage to do is stare at the service unfolding before you, stunned. You have never seen a memorial service quite like this one. At the palace, the services were kept small and formal, limited to few guests and even smaller fires. But here, in these southern lands that you’re coming to love, even little children throw in twigs picked up from the nearby forest. The entire town throws in something. The entire town gets to remember the lost soul. You think that in some twisted way, it's beautiful. It’s beautiful how no one is left to mourn alone.

You listen in on a group nearby, enough to hear that the group is sharing memories and stories of Jaehyun’s father. The group erupts in laughter. It seems out of place almost, such loud laughter in the midst of a memorial service, but when you look around the crowd you see a similar image in every corner. The people laugh and smile. They remember with joy. You recall that day on Angel’s Peak with Jaehyun and how good it felt to recall a part of your past. You think this must be like that. Loss was painful, but forgetting was worse. And through remembering, these people have made their pain their own to mend, bend, and break.

It dawns on you then that the people are throwing in the love they can’t give as much as they’re throwing in their sadness for the loss. You learn that the fire before you doesn’t just rage, but that it cries and laughs as well. You learn that the wild warmth is more than just a fire; it’s an image of their love and loss.

Jaehyun appears beside you then. He doesn’t look as happy as the others, but he looks less sad than he did before. He hands you a log and lights it with a match. You watch the fire eat up the wood in your hand before throwing it into the orange flames. Normally, only direct family members are allowed to throw things in the fire. So when Jaehyun hands you the log to throw, it’s actually the first time you've ever been allowed to do so.

The last memorial you attended was for the princes’ mother, Roe. It was also the last time their father, the King, looked human to you. 30 days after her death a fire was lit by the palace temple. Orindell had just been born, still only an infant held in his father's arms. Peter and Roen were young as well, and the two boys clung to their father’s legs crying more out of confusion than anything else. You watched it all happen from a corner. You watched as the four boys, the King and his sons, weeped for their lost love. You watched as they threw in burning logs. And you watched it all behind a blur of your own tears.

Before Roe, the last funeral you can remember attending was Avi’s, the young king who understood your grief and more importantly your guilt. But unlike the princes’ mother, who left an entire family behind, Avi had no living relatives. At his funeral, not a single log was thrown. For so long it had been you and Avi against the world, so when Avi died, it left you feeling inexplicably alone.

You had burned a fire for Avi, and you had burned a fire Roe. But you never even lit a match for Sunwoo; and worse than that, you never bothered to mourn the loss of your mother and father.

Jaehyun was right. You have plenty of fires to burn and logs to throw. So when a child passes by with a wagon of sticks in tow, you don’t hesitate to grab a handful. You throw one in for the Roe, the friend that made you feel human again. You throw one in for Avi, the tortured teen who understood. You throw a stick for Sunwoo who you sacrificed everything for. You throw two in for your mother and father who you lost long before their hearts stopped beating. You throw in several for the other Sins and Gifts who created that pointless war and left you lost in your own immortal soul. You throw in the rest for Lord Seth and all the lives that have been taken by your hands. You throw your regret into the fire and mourn.

You forget Jaehyun’s next to you, until he puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. You lean into his touch, and the two of you mourn together.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You spend another sleepless night in bed thinking of Peter, thinking of the King, thinking of this kingdom. And when sunlight peaks from behind your curtains, you decide you’re tired of waiting. You send a hopeful Risal to Prince Peter.

The Risal returns while you’re shooting arrows alone. When Younghoon came back and learned how you were using plates as targets and Jaehyun as a stand, he had crafted targets hanging from the tree branches for you to use instead. You were thankful for Younghoon’s generosity, but now, as you notch another arrow through your bowstring, you feel Jaehyun’s absence like a gaping hole, you feel it greatly.

The arrow hits the wooden target with a sharp thud.

It’s while you’re pulling the arrows from the target and placing them back in your quiver that you hear the Risal’s screech. You hold your arm out and wait for the bird to swoop down.

No message, you think when the Risal comes back empty. You aren’t surprised that Peter received your message but didn’t bother to send one back. You have been sending the eldest Prince Risals since he departed from the Golden Palace at the start of spring, and every single one of your Risals came back with no reply. So no, you aren’t surprised, but that doesn’t stop the way your shoulders sag and your lips dip in a repetitive, dull dissapointment.

You spend the rest of the day drowning in your own worries.

And when your thoughts somehow travel to Younghoon’s handcrafted hanging targets. And to Jaehyun and how he opened up his home to you, and how he listens. You decide it’s time to tell Captain Younghoon and Lord Jaehyun the truth; the truth you owe them.

“Did Peter respond to your Risal?” Jaehyun asks at dinner that night. You answer his questions with a tired sigh and a small no.

You recognize that it’s time to repay their kindness with honesty. So when Jaehyun and Younghoon share a look and ask you timidly why exactly Prince Peter was sent away to begin with, you know. This is your chance. So you take it by the neck and run.

You recall to Jaehyun and Younghoon the day things started changing within the Golden Palace. The day Peter came to you sad and betrayed and alone.

“This isn’t right,” Peter muttered to you on that cold winter day. He sat in your sitting room, his hands holding up his head from falling off his shoulders altogether. You took a long sip of your tea. This was no surprise to you. From the day Peter had turned old enough to understand the workings of this kingdom and sit in on council meetings, he had been meeting with you like this. Letting you in on his doubts about the policies being put in order. About this kingdom. Doubts about his place as a Prince and other ones about his own father. Eventually, Roen joined these meetings. Then Orindell did too. It had become custom, for the four of them, a Gift of the Spirit and three Princes, to sit in your sitting room, to talk about and worry for your kingdom, that was slipping into disorder and that you all loved so much.

On that cold winter day, however, only Peter sat with you. Roen was on a northern campaign, and Orindell travelled with the Knights of the Holy Order leading his knights as their Commander, and all too young for the responsibility and the role. But an amazing Commander nonetheless.

“He can’t do this,” Peter had groaned, “and I’m not sure how much longer I can sit by and watch.”

You halted, your teacup moments away from reaching your lips. You set it back down.

“Prince Peter, what are you suggesting?”

He huffed and shook his head. You had thought he looked wild and angry and unhinged. “He’s set himself on a course to drive this kingdom into the dirt. Father hasn’t been himself for some time now. Something is wrong. Something that we can’t see. And the longer we wait, the worse he’ll get.”

“Peter,” you said again, the name sounding like a plea.

“He is no longer fit to be king!” Peter slammed his hand down on the table.

You clicked your tongue, unaffected by Peter’s sudden outburst. “So it’s a coup you’re suggesting then?”

He sighed. “I’ve already decided. He has to be stopped.” He paused, looking at you with eyes that reminded you of the days he and his brothers would run around the palace courtyard. Your heart ached at the memory. “I want you to help me. But I’ll do this without your help too.”

And so you started planning Peter’s eventual overthrow of the King and of his father.

“We kept it a secret, Peter and I,” you continue. Jaehyun and Younghoon listen silently but intently. “We didn’t even tell his brothers. The only other person we told was Juyeon. And while we plotted against the King, I started remembering things. For some reason, being around Peter so much, helped me remember. The memories are broken and blurry, but in them I saw flashes of my past and found forgotten conversations with the King. He would speak with me privately quite often as a consultant of sorts. And it was in recovering those shared words, that things really started to change for Peter and me. Because in my memories, the King sounds as insane as the rebellious eastern Lords make him out to be. In one moment, he’s crying about how alone he feels in this world and how he longs to go home. And in the next, he’s asking me how he can talk to Angels. It was clear to Peter and I that his father wasn’t himself anymore. The King had gone mad.

“We started hearing about his experiments at the start of summer. The King insisted that these experiments would allow him to talk to an Angel and that they’d make him less lonely. And you must understand, all of this was hard for Peter. It was difficult for him to watch his own father spiral into insanity. So when Peter got evidence of the King’s experiments, he took matters into his own hands. He openly defied his father, in front of the council, and so the King sent him away.

“They’re both so impulsive it’s almost laughable how the whole thing played out. But either way, the night before he left Peter came to me and told me how he wasn’t giving up. He told me that when he returned to the Golden Palace it’d be as the King. So I told him…” You trail off, searching for the best way to say this next part without making yourself sound as mad as the King.

It’s Younghoon who asks, leaning off the edge of his seat like he can’t stand the suspense of it. “What did you tell Prince Peter?”

“I told him to go to the Nomads’ Lands.”

Jaehyun chokes on his water.

You continue on with the story, unbothered.

“Although the King was the one to send him away, I think he was also the saddest to watch Peter go. I know it must be hard to believe, but the King wasn’t always as crazy as he is now. He’s always been impulsive, yes, but he used to be strong, charming, kingly. And he was devastated by his son’s absence in their home. Ultimately, I think that’s what drove him over the edge. That’s what made him so desperate to stop feeling so alone. So desperate he injected Lord Seth with one of his experiments, and he made me watch. But I knew as well as the King that the experiment had gone wrong. Yet he insisted on it working. He was so desperate he convinced himself that if we just waited everything would work out. Lord Seth was locked in the palace prisons that night, and no one but the King and I knew.

“I told you,” you look at Jaehyun, “that I had my reasons. I didn’t want to kill him. I take no pleasure in murder. But the experiment had gone wrong, and Lord Seth was in pain. If you had heard the way he cried and screamed and the way it echoed throughout the prison walls and the way—”

You break. No, you don’t just break. You shatter. It’s been so long since you’ve made yourself feel the shame of your crimes. But now looking straight into the eyes of the sins you’ve committed. You crack and break and shatter into a million pieces. Each of your infinite shards tainted with a cruel shade of guilt.

Jaehyun reaches over and covers your hand that rests atop of the table with his own. And although he’s only touching one small part of you, you feel his warmth in every part of your soul.

And when he says, “You took him out of his misery. If I were half as brave as you, I’d do the same,” you feel as if he’s lending you his strength.

He squeezes your hands once, then pulls away. You feel suddenly, foolishly cold.

“So that’s why Peter was sent away,” you finish, looking up at Younghoon and Jaehyun. “And that’s why I was sent away too.” You feel tired and drained. Like you’ve fought off an entire army of men. Like you’ve been swimming against the current of the Zalazar River for years. You wonder helplessly and hopelessly why it’s so exhausting to remember yet so easy to forget.

It’s Younghoon who speaks again at last. “Thank you Lady Gift for entrusting us with such sensitive information. I think you know as well as I do that it’s time you tell Prince Roen and Prince Orindell the truth too.”

“Yes,” you mutter, already dreading the lengthy Risal you would have to write before bed, “I do.”

“I’m still curious about one thing,” Jaehyun says with a hand under his chin, “why did you send Peter to the Nomads?”

Suddenly, you’re reminded of your last conversation with Juyeon, and how he held your face and begged you to remember and how your head hurt too much to see straight by the end of the night. Yet when Jaehyun asks the same question, his voice bouncing off the walls of your mind, an answer appears as clear as day and as white as snow. When Jaehyun asks, you know.

“The Nomads weren’t always as they are now. They weren’t as hostile or private. That night, I remembered that the Nomads were known to be bridges between Humans and the Elders. I sent him to the Nomads’ Lands in the hopes that they’d share with him the knowledge of the Elders.”

Jaehyun only nods. And you’re glad for the silence that emerges, because you need a moment to process what you’ve just said yourself. The Elders were known to be channels for the Gods to spout their wisdom and hear the prayers of the people. All historic scrolls and religious teachings were based on the knowledge of the Elders. Another purpose of the Seven Sins and Seven Gifts was to be a bridge between the Elders and the Humans similar to the way the Nomads were a bridge. Perhaps that’s another reason why this kingdom feels so lost. You never learned how to communicate with the Elders. Thanks to Avi and his act of arson, the kingdom has none of the previous teachings from the Elders, and thanks to you, the kingdom has no new ones.

But still, knowing that doesn’t calm the questions that arise in your mind. What knowledge from the Elders could the Nomads possibly have that would make you send Peter to them?

The dinner ends abruptly when Younghoon stands up exclaiming how he’s tired from all that he’s just learned and bids you goodnight. You and Jaehyun do the same soon after.

You write to Roen that night. And in your Risal, you tell him everything. You tell him about Peter, the experiments, Lord Seth, his father, your memories, the Nomads, and more. In the last line you ask Roen to extend this information to Orindell as well. You seal the letter and climb into bed with aching fingers.

The response from Roen comes a few days later.

Dear Fortitude, I didn’t know about Lord Seth. Thank you for doing what you did. Not even he deserved to be kept alive in pain and hurting. But everything else, Orindell and I, we already knew. Peter told us everything the night before he left. But thank you nonetheless. -Roen

That sounds right to you. Those three boys, those brothers, they were like that. At each other’s throats one day and hugging each other the next. Chasing Orindell around the palace grounds. Playing pranks on Peter. And setting silly traps for Roen. Tackling each other to the ground and then spilling all their secrets. They’re each other's best friend as much as they’re brothers. It was only natural Peter told them the truth. And you’re glad he did.

You sleep wonderfully that night

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun hopes you never learn how to braid your own hair. Your hair was so soft and it smelled nice too. Jaehyun took some sort of pleasure in being the one to braid your hair back every time the wind was too strong and you forgot a hair tie which happened more often than not.

“It must be hard,” you say as Jaehyun sections your hair into three parts, “for Younghoon to spend so much time away from his family.”

His hand lingers by the nape of your neck.

“Yes, it must.”

The next day Jaehyun tells Younghoon to go back home.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Younghoon laughs, although the laugh sounds hesitant and it sounds lonely.

“Go home, Younghoon.” Jaehyun insists. “Paid leave.”

Younghoon packs up his things that very night.

***

You have been quiet for some time now. Not just quiet in sound, but also quiet in the way you walk and eat. You silently send Risals back and forth with Roen, and then quietly accept the lack of response from Peter. You quietly begin taking more walks and then silently start taking them alone. You have been quiet since Younghoon left, but looking back, it appears that this quiet has been looming in the air for some time now. It’s been teetering up behind Jaehyun, taunting him back and forth since the night you told him and Younghoon everything. Jaehyun isn’t so sure what to make of it. But he does know that he misses you even though you spend every second under the same roof.

He hates the quiet.

“Lord Jaehyun! Come quick!” Vina screams from somewhere in the estate. Jaehyun bolts out of his room and finds her running towards him in the halls. “It’s Lady Gift,” she says breathless, eyes wide with worry and fear, “I think she plans to jump.”

Jaehyun runs.

He runs past Vina, out of the estate, onto the grassy path, towards the beach, and then westward. He runs and runs and runs.

And there you are. Standing on top of Angel’s Peak, ready to jump. Silently. Jaehyun’s heart stops.

“Don’t try to stop me!” You yell at Jaehyun and Vina watching you frozen in the sand. “I’ll jump, and I’ll survive.”

“Lady Gift!” Vina yells back. “You’ll die. Come down. It’s not—“

Jaehyun puts a hand on Vina’s shoulder. Asking, pleading her to stop.

“Lady Gift,” he doesn’t yell or scream, and yet he speaks loud enough for you to hear over the wind and waves. Jaehyun surprises himself with how calm his voice sounds. “Do you know how to swim?”

You falter, grasping your sleeves as if they hold the answer.

“I might.” You finally respond.

Jaehyun sighs. “I won’t try to stop you.” You look surprised. “But just wait a moment before you jump.”

He starts pulling off his shoes, and then also his shirt. He can feel Vina stiffen beside him.

“Lord Jaehyun, what are you doing?” Vina asks frantically.

“I just wanna make sure the water’s safe,” he says before diving into the ocean.

The water is cold. But he pushes himself through the water, swimming to the base of Angel’s Peak and feeling the strength of the sea with each movement of his arms. The waves are loud and crashing, but they aren’t strong.

“Jaehyun!” He hears you scream from the cliff above. It sounds like you’re asking him to stop. He does not.

He reaches the base of the cliff, his body now acclimated to the cold temperature of the water. He dives under the water and looks for something, anything that could hit you in your fall. The water is empty and clear.

“The water is safe.” He calls back up swimming to a safer spot, away from where you will fall. “Run and jump, or you won’t make it past the ledge.”

You nod looking up past the horizon, eyes closed.

“And remember,” you open one eye to look down on him, “feet first.”

You smirk. Then disappear from Jaehyun’s view. You run up to the edge. And jump.

Except that you don’t just jump. You fling your body off the cliff. You fling your entire lifespan into the sky. And you fall.

Jaehyun swears that time stops when you do. As if you aren’t falling but descending. As if the air is holding you up by the arms. You drop from the sky as if you’ve been preparing to do so your entire life. As if every second, minute, day, and year has amounted to this jump, this dive. And you fall and fall and fall. For longer than is humanly possible. Feet first, like Jaehyun had said. But you don’t crash into the water. No, the waves rise up to meet you. As if the sea has been waiting for you since forever. You disappear into the ocean. Jaehyun watches. Amazed.

It’s when Vina screams his name that he’s pulled out of his trance. It’s then he realizes that you have yet to re-emerge from under the water.

He panics. Fear coursing, shooting through him. He sucks in a breath.

And dives.

He lets the current take him to you. And there you are. Submerged in the water between the tides. Your eyes closed. Alive but unconscious. Alive but not fighting. He had asked you once what it took to kill you, and you had answered: giving up. And Jaehyun thinks that this must be it. Your body floating, sinking, falling in the water. This must be what it meant to give up.

But Jaehyun isn’t going to let you give up so easily. He grabs you in his arms and throws back the water until you’re both above the surface. He fights and swims like he’s never done before. He rips through the current with a frightening amount of adrenaline. Vina pulls you both out of the water. And Jaehyun bangs at your chest and blows life into your lungs until you are choking and breathing and alive. Jaehyun falls into the sand beside you.

“I’ll go get towels, and clean clothes.” Vina says scurrying away in the sand.

Jaehyun and you lay side by side, wet hair and clothes sticking to your bodies. Exhausted.

“It looked like you were dying,” Jaehyun mumbles the moment he can spare enough breath to do so, “there, under the water.” He turns his head. “Were you trying to?”

“I don’t want to die, Jaehyun.” Your voice comes out as breathless as his.

“Did you want to feel like you’re dying?”

You shake your head.

“Then what?”

“I wanted to feel mortal.”

He looks away from you, and they watch the clouds in a shattering silence.

“I want to do it again.”

Jaehyun laughs, amused by your desire to fling yourself off cliffs. “Oh I beg you, at least learn how to swim first.”

You look at him then. Forehead creased and utterly confused.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

And later that night in the darkness of your bedroom and comfort of your covers. You think and overthink and think again how Jaehyun didn’t try to stop you. How he let you jump and made sure the water was safe. How he carried you back to shore. And how unbelievably good it felt to be in his arms.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

The quiet is gone. It’s like you jumped off Angel’s Peak and dropped the silence in the water. Jaehyun is glad because, above all things, the quiet made him worry.

You only wait a day before you’re asking Jaehyun to teach you how to swim. And when you do, excitement gushing from your voice, it’s obvious he doesn’t have much of a choice. Not that it matters, Jaehyun would have agreed to teach you regardless, his choice or not.

Jaehyun’s father taught him how to swim. He taught him how to paddle and tread the water. He taught him about the currents, the waves, the seaweed, and the fish.

Jaehyun extends everything he knows to you.

You struggle at first. Even with the little things, like not losing your balance against the waves and floating in the water. But you’re stubborn. You struggle and fight with the sea until it’s bowing at your feet. By the end of the first week, you glide through the water and body surf the waves as if you’ve been doing it for years. And two days after that, you swim even better than Jaehyun. You race him to the rocks and back. You win everytime. Though Jaehyun takes pride in the way he doesn’t end far behind. Jaehyun also takes pride in how he was the one to teach you, and how good you’ve become in such little time.

You smile at him, ducking your head under the water, and Jaehyun feels an unreal sort of elation. It’s then that he takes his pride and shoves it into the ocean.

***

“I lied,” you confess the night you both can’t sleep and meet for the second time at the rocks. Jaehyun immediately assumes the worst, his mind racing with possibilities. “A while ago, Younghoon asked me if I would fight him. I told him I don’t like to fight anymore. But it was a lie. I do.”

He exhales, so relieved it comes out as a laugh. “Next time don’t make it sound so grave.”

You shove his propped knee, and he topples over dramatically. You snicker at the display.

When you continue, your voice is tainted with an odd shade of guilt. “And I don’t just like fighting. I enjoy it too.”

Jaehyun smiles a bit. “How so?”

You hesitate, looking at Jaehyun like he holds the answer in his palms, but frown when you notice his smile. “Why are you smiling?”

He shrugs. “It’s nice to hear you talking again.”

“Oh.” You look down at your feet. Jaehyun feels suddenly warm.

He shakes the feeling. “You say you like fighting as if it’s a bad thing.”

“Is it?”

Jaehyun expects it to be rhetorical, but you meet his eyes sincerely. Jaehyun realizes, in what feels like a moment too late, that you genuinely don't know. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“I suppose.” You tap your foot against the rock. The beat feels familiar to Jaehyun.

“So then,” he says when the tapping comes to stop, “why don’t you fight?”

You bring your knees impossibly closer to your chest. “After Avi died, I felt so lost. He was the last person to know me for me. And so, after a fire was lit in his memorial, I left the Golden Palace and I…”

You stop there as if the story has come to a sudden end.

This time the tapping comes from Jaehyun’s foot. “Is it the fog again?”

“No.” You tell him confidently. “I can’t remember well. But it’s not because of some fog. It’s like my memories of those years have been blacked out. Erased from my mind. By choice.” Jaehyun watches the way you unsurely picks at your nails and the way your hair billows in the wind. “All I know is that after Avi died, I was so angry. At the world. At myself. I went on a rampage. I was in this state of so much pain and hurt and loss that nothing mattered anymore. I didn’t care who I hurt along the way, and only the Gods know how many I must’ve hurt.”

Jaehyun listens. He lets your words travel and touch every part of his body and soul until he feels the pain and anger himself. Until he wants to sob at the tear that rolls down the side of your face.

“I remember the fire that was lit for Avi, and then I remember running from the Golden Palace. After that, it's all black and blur. But then one day I woke up and the anger was gone. Like it had dissolved overnight. The next week I met Roe.”

You pause, and in the silence Jaehyun yearns to take the years you spent in suffering and carry them in his arms. He wants to hide the years you spent angry and alone in the pockets of his largest coat.

“I’m scared, Jaehyun.” You whisper, voice wavering in the salty wind. “I’m scared that if I let myself fight again, I won’t come back from it. How can I carry the name Fortitude when I don’t even have enough courage to face myself?”

The words hit him like a punch to gut. He recoils under the weight. A gust of wind blows then, pushing and pulling the hairs that have escaped from your braid. He wants to reach his hand out and tuck the hair away. He only realizes a second after that he hasn’t swallowed down the impulse fast enough. He’s surprised to see you soften the teeniest bit when his fingers graze your forehead. He feels suddenly, impossibly weightless.

“You aren’t the person you were then.” He says. “You’ve learned. You’ve grown. But the biggest difference is that now you aren’t alone.” You let out a breath as if you’ve been holding it for years. For all Jaehyun knows, that might be the truth. He continues. “The day you jumped off Angel’s Peak, you fell into the water and you sank. For the smallest of seconds, I lost you between the waves. But I found you and pulled you to shore.” He pauses, reminded of the terror he felt for the second that you were gone. “What I mean is that if you lose yourself in the waves of a fight, you have people to pull you out from the riptide. You have me, Younghoon, Juyeon, Peter, Roen, Orindell; hell even Vina would pull you out if she had the chance.” You manage a small, sad laugh, and the sound of it alone fills Jaehyun with an indescribable warmth. “You're not alone anymore. Even if you do get lost, you’ll find a way back, with or without our help. If you want to fight, fight. You have nothing to be scared of. Not anymore.”

You lay back suddenly, arms extended above your head and eyes closed. You smile. Like you’re free. As if you’ve been granted freedom from the ropes tied by your own doing. You yawn.

“Oh how happy Younghoon will be to hear all this.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “He’ll be jumping at the chance to spar with you.”

You stand up and say, “thank you for listening,” before walking away.

“And Jaehyun,” you stop, your back still facing him, “it feels nice to talk with you again too.”

Jaehyun is the Zalazar River in the fall. Bright red and burning.

***

Jaehyun floats on his back in the waveless water watching you above him who’s grown to love cliff jumping from Angel’s Peak.

You jump like you did before except that this time you don’t fling your life into the water. You jump and fall from the sky. Then you sink and sink and sink. And emerge from the water, alive.

“Are there any other cliffs?” You ask as you swim around each other.

“What, are you bored of Angel’s Peak already?”

“Perhaps.”

Jaehyun laughs, and you splash him with water. He dives and chases you back to shore.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

“Aren’t you close to Captain Juyeon?” Jaehyun wonders aloud when a Risal swoops down from the sky the day you and Jaehyun are sitting in the courtyard.

“He’s like a brother to me.” You say while you send the bird away, keeping the letter sealed and in your lap.

“Then, why haven’t you been exchanging Risals with him as well?”

You scoff. “I wish I could, but he’s scared of the bird.” Jaehyun giggles, and it spreads like wildfire in the breeze.

“You must miss him.” He mutters, and you hum a yes, opening the letter wordlessly.

The letter you receive however is not the one you expect. And it certainly isn’t the letter you want.

You read and then reread the letter from Orindell. It was an apology of sorts, though the words seem scattered and unsure. You huff, dropping the letter in your lap. Jaehyun notices but doesn’t say anything, focusing instead on that cat that’s climbed in his lap.

You think about Orindell, the boy who you’ve known his entire life, and how well he grew up. Orindell never let his brothers get the best of him despite being the youngest. Wherever they beat him in strength and size, he countered with wit and skill. It proved useful for Orindell; he was quick to take interest in matters of battle strategy and war efficiency. Orindell climbed the administrative ranks of the Knights of the Holy Order faster than anyone you had seen before, and in a blink of an eye, he became the youngest ever Commander of the Knights. You had felt swollen with pride for the youngest Prince.

And maybe that’s why it hurt so much when he confessed to you in the winter. And yet here Orindell is, apologizing for pushing his love on you and for asking your hand in marriage. Here he is taking back his wrongdoings in writing. You sigh helplessly.

“Is something wrong?” Jaehyun asks from across the table not taking his eyes off the cat still curled up in his lap. You slide the letter over to him. He reads it slowly. Then laughs. “I was not aware you carried Prince Orindell’s heart in your bags.”

You narrow your eyes. “I. Do. Not.” You snatch the letter back.

“I take it you don’t harbor similar feelings for Prince Orindell then?” The question sounds hopeful.

“No, not at all.” You deny. “Orindell is like a child to me.”

“He’s only a few years younger than myself.” Jaehyun says looking up, his eyes strangely dark. “Do you see me as a child too?”

You flick the letter. “I’ve known Orindell since he was born. I watched him grow. He feels like family to me. But I met you at this age, so it doesn’t feel like you’re much younger than I am. It’s odd how age seems to work in my head. I know I’m older than you and Younghoon by ages, and yet I see you both as equals.” You take a sip of your drink. “Plus, Orindell still acts like a child.” Jaehyun smiles at that.

“Oddly enough,” Jaehyun mumbles, bringing the full glass to his lips, “that makes sense.”

You think back to the letter, and sense fondness in Orindell’s apology. Something in your mind clicks.

“I was so mad at him,” You say to the air around you, “at Orindell. For months. I wanted him to tell me he never felt that way, that he fooled himself into something deeper than a platonic love. But I realize now that he can’t take it back even if he wanted to. Orindell can’t help how he feels.” You look up and find Jaehyun watching you. “He’s apologized for what he can. But he can’t apologize for falling in love.”

Jaehyun smiles sweetly. The kind of smile that makes your heart numb. “Oh Fortitude, I could’ve told you that months ago.”

“I fear,” you begin, leaning forward in your seat, “that in rejecting Orindell, I’ll lose him as well.”

Jaehyun points to the letter. “He’s apologized. He doesn’t want to lose you either.”

You repeat it in your mind.

He doesn’t want to lose you either.

It makes you feel suddenly, inexplicably upset and confused. Why is it so easy to love yet so hard to accept? How can love be so strong but still fleeting like everything else? You know Orindell’s feelings for you will pass, and yet knowing it doesn’t make you feel much better. Love waxes and wanes like the phases of the moon, but does it ever fade? You think of how Orindell feels towards you. How you have felt towards others in the past. And today sitting in the courtyard, the picture your shoved down feelings create finally starts to make sense. You find the image to be startling but unsurprising all the same. Finally, you understand the pain of poets, the pain Orindell must feel, and the pain you once felt yourself.

Love is a burden. A burden you’re only now learning how to accept.

You want to welcome the warm weight with open arms.

***

That night you send a Risal to the Golden Palace addressed for Prince Orindell.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun sorts through his papers and files through responsibilities mindlessly on the day a letter for him comes. He pushes it to the side of his mind when you come into his office sputtering something about the latest news from the Golden Palace and how things have been so much better between you and Prince Orindell.

He waits a moment once you’ve finished. “Do you remember me telling you about my sister, Insia?” You nod at his question, falling into the armchair near him. “Well, I just got this from her.” Jaehyun holds up the letter. “It’s her son’s birthday, and they’ve invited me to celebrate.”

“Oh how sweet!” You gush, although your voice sounds a bit higher than normal. You pull at your sleeves. “How long will you be gone?”

“Actually,” Jaehyun hesitates, his next question teetering on the tip of his tongue, “I was wondering if you’d like to come as well?”

***

The boat ride to the island Insia lives on is pleasant. Jaehyun humors you with stories of his childhood and of Insia, and you listen to Jaehyun talk as if your life depends on it. When they dock, Jaehyun drags you to a bakery to buy candy and sweets for Insia’s children and then some more for yourselves.

By late afternoon they reach Insia and her husband Cyrin’s house. Jaehyun always liked their house. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was comfortable and somehow perfect. They lived right on the beach. The back door leading to a sandy shore and sparkling blue waters.

“Hold on,” Jaehyun says abruptly, taking your hand in his, “before we go in, I want to show you something.”

He leads you around the house and beyond the white fence that separates the streets from the beach. You take off your shoes before proceeding in the sand. It takes one more turn and another second of walking on your already aching feet before it’s visible.

The sea.

The water that surrounds the island is bluer and clearer than the waters back home. The waves shine in the last bit of the light from the setting sun. Jaehyun feels at home despite being hours away from it.

He looks over at you. And you smile so brightly the sun seems to dim in that moment. The awe in your eyes and lightness in your sigh reminds Jaehyun of the first time he took you to see the sea. He’s reminded of how his chest wanted to burst at the sight of your smile. He finds himself in a similar predicament today, except that now the bursting chest was something he had grown quite used to. It was something he had grown to adore. Jaehyun loved the sea. But looking at you and the wonder in each one of your bones, he thinks you might love it more.

“Uncle Jaehyun!” A voice yells from behind them. Jaehyun whips around only to be tackled by the weight of a 7 year old clinging onto his body and legs. A second later he’s tackled by another child. He pulls them both into his arms and smothers them with as much love as he can fit into a hug.

You kneel down in the sand, and introduce yourself to the children. “You must be Elia.” You say to the older girl who’s detached herself from Jaehyun. Elia nods enthusiastically. “And you,” you point to the younger boy, shyly hiding behind Jaehyun’s legs, “must be the birthday boy.”

“That’s my brother Herschel, and he’s turning five years old tomorrow.” Elia jumps in before Herschel can answer. Jaehyun plops down himself and the children follow. The four of you sitting in a circle in the warm sand.

“Or so I’ve heard.” you say, pulling the box of sweets from a bag. “Well, to celebrate your Uncle Jaehyun and I brought you some sweets—“

The children pounce on the box before you can finish. Jaehyun clutches his stomach in laughter.

“Jaehyun!” Insia yells from the back deck of her home. Although the yell sounds more like she’s about to nag him instead of welcoming her only brother to her home. “Those sweets will rot their teeth!”

“You’re torturing them Insia!” He yells back, getting up from the sand to greet his sister. “Children need sweets.”

Insia scrunches her nose. “You spoil them too much.” She says before pulling Jaehyun into a hug.

Jaehyun leads Insia to where you and the children sit in the sand, and asks about the whereabouts of his youngest niece, Devi, who is still less than a year old. Insia resposds that she’s napping and that Cyrin’s watching her.

You stand up to greet Insia.

“Lady Gift, it’s such an honor that you’ve come to visit. We’re humbled to have you stay in our home.”

“Oh please, no. I’m the one who’s humbled that you’ve opened up your home to me. And please call me Fortitude. I despise formalities.”

“Well, in that case,” Insia coos, looping her arm with yours, “please come inside. Jaehyun’s told me so much about you. I think we’ll get along wonderfully this weekend.”

***

Insia, like always, is right. You and her get along wonderfully. After the kids are put to bed, you and Insia begin talking in the sitting area, and in the span of your conversation, Jaehyun and Cyrin are able to finish not one but two card games at the kitchen table. Cyrin puts up the cards while Jaehyun watches you and Insia converse. He finds it almost surprising that the two of you still have something to talk about considering how different you both are. But the surprise is a pleasant one, for Jaehyun takes much pleasure in watching two people he cares for so deeply talk and laugh together comfortably.

“Jaehyun, you must stay here longer.” Cyrin insists. “If not for the whole weekend, then at least for the day after Herschel’s party.”

Jaehyun hesitates. “I don’t know. Younghoon is already coming back the day before we’re supposed to, and I’d hate to make him wait for us longer than he already will be.”

“Oh please,” Insia dismisses, you and her approaching the table, “Younghoon sees you everyday; he’ll be fine. I barely see you anymore, especially after Devi was born. The least you could do is give me the pleasure of celebrating your birthday with you.”

“Your birthday?” You mutter from your side of the table. You meet Jaehyun’s eyes. “Forgive me Jaehyun. I had no idea.” Jaehyun dismisses the apology.

Cyrin and Insia share a look. The kind of look that only couples who know each other in and out could share. The kind of look that holds entire conversations in one glance. They share another look after that too. Insia scoffs, turning dramatically to you.

“Would you mind humouring Cyrin with an arm wrestle? He wants to see how well he can hold up against a Gift of the Spirit.”

Jaehyun’s reminded of how a similar conversation between Younghoon and you went. Jaehyun inhales sharply, watching your reaction carefully. You surprise him by laughing.

“I’m no joke.” Cyrin defends in response to your laughter. “There’s yet a person on this island to beat me.”

You lean towards him. “Ah, but no person on this island is me.” You ready your arm up. Cyrin takes it eagerly.

Jaehyun likes this. How you tease Cyrin. How you’re not afraid of your powers anymore. How you beam with confidence.

“You do know who I am right?” You say, before the back of hand slams down on the table. Cyrin yelps in shock, and Insia hides snickers behind her hand while you laugh loudly and freely. You turn towards Jaehyun, and the two of you share a look of your own.

And through the silent conversation, Jaehyun knows. Younghoon would have to wait a bit longer for your return.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

The next morning you send a Risal to Younghoon telling him that you and Jaehyun would be staying for the entire weekend. He responds with a simple tell Herschel and Jaehyun I said happy birthday. You do.

Later that day, Insia requests you and Jaehyun to take the children outside while she prepares the house for the part that night.

You pick up Devi and rock the child in your arms, following Jaehyun and the other two children out of the house, onto the back deck, and then to the beach. You carefully take a seat in the sand.

You learned back when the Princes were young that you had an inexplicable knack with babies. So when Devi softens and presses herself against your body, it appears the knack has not yet been lost. You turn into mush when Devi stops crying, reaching for you. You give her a finger to hold onto and Devi takes it at once.

You look away from the adorable baby cradled between your arms, and your eyes land on Jaehyun. Jaehyun plays with Elia and Herschel, really plays with them. Running and rolling around in the sand. Splashing them with water and pouting when the two siblings get mad at each other. You wonder for a moment what it would be like if this was your family. Married, with children, and living far away on this island. You wonder for a moment how it would feel to be normal and to be mortal. And the thought strikes you with an odd sort of sadness. One that grabs at your heart and shakes it until the blood is gone. One that makes your ribs disappear and your body feel hollow and numb.

But then Jaehyun lifts Herschel onto his shoulders, and your sadness vanishes the second he does. He smiles at you. Giggles. Calls you twice with something you can’t quite place lingering on his tongue.

Your chest starts to hum. He smiles at you again, and the humming grows and shifts into a song. A song that’s breathtakingly beautiful. One with chords so delightfully articulated that you don’t want to go a day without hearing them. You want your chest to hum and sing this song for the rest of your life.

Suddenly, Devi squeezes the fingers she’s been holding onto, and in that moment, while watching Jaehyun play with his sister’s children and while carrying Jaehyun’s niece in your own two arms, you feel impossibly, shatteringly happy.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

The birthday party had been a smash, with children appearing from every crevice of the house and cake smothered on Herschel’s face. Insia and Cyrin seemed happy with it. You seemed happy with it. The children seemed happy with it. And their happiness made Jaehyun happy as well.

Tonight is another sleepless night for Jaehyun, but since he isn’t home with a familiar rock to sit on, he heads to a balcony in Insia’s home that overlooks the coast. He brings an extra coat; the balcony would be cold. Still, he shivers in the howling wind, letting the crashing waves ease his mind slowly and methodically. You join him at some point, and Jaehyun smiles when he hears the balcony door open. He doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s you. His smile turns into a frown when he notices you dressed plainly, no scarf and no coat.

“Are you immune to coldness then?”

You shiver, wrapping your arms around your torso. “Unfortunately, no.”

“Here.” Jaehyun hands you the extra coat.

You take it and stare at the cloth before wrapping it around your shoulders. “Do you always bring extra coats?”

“No.” He leans against the wall. “But if you insist on not dressing properly, I suppose I’ll have to start.”

You look down, smiling. You walk to the edge of the balcony and rest your elbows on the railing. The two of you are quiet together for some time.

“I wish you told me earlier that your birthday is approaching, Jaehyun.” You say. “I could’ve prepared something for you.”

He bites the inside of his cheek. “It hadn’t seemed important enough to bring up before.”

“Why wouldn’t it be important?”

“It’s just one day.”

“It should still be celebrated.” You insist, sounding suddenly mad. As if Jaehyun not telling you was an insult. Jaehyun positions himself closer.

“Is something wrong?” He asks as softly as possible.

And at his words, your head drops, like you couldn’t bear to hold it up any longer. You cry silently, face hidden from Jaehyun by your own body, stammering over your own sniffles. He takes your hand in his and holds it to his heart. “Please,” he begs because the sight of you in so much silent pain hurts him more than he can admit, “tell me what’s happened.”

And so you do. You tell him how you’ve become rotten with jealousy for Insia and her perfect family. And how you want nothing more than to be normal. You tell Jaehyun how much you wish you could take back being the Gift of Fortitude. And with each word that leaves from your lips, Jaehyun comes to realize that what you tell him now isn’t like anything you’ve told him before. What keeps you up tonight isn’t a forgotten memory or worry for someone else. No, tonight, you allow sleep to stay out of reach and let tears fall down the side of your cheek because of a wound that’s still fresh and bleeding and new. Tonight, your pain is not one Jaehyun can take away. No matter how badly he wants to.

He stares at you, frozen. And Jaehyun thinks, not for the first time, about all the people you’ve lost. Sunwoo, Avi, your parents, Roe. He thinks about all the years behind your eyes, and all the scars in your mind. He thinks about how you’ve given everything you have to give, and how you gave it all from the heart. You sacrificed your entire life for this kingdom. And this sadness, this never-ending pain, you did not deserve. He stares at you, the Gift of Fortitude, and thinks about all that you’ve endured.

Finally, he speaks. “A while ago, you told me that Fortitude meant courage, and that the name alone was such a burden. But later, with Younghoon, I looked up the meaning of Fortitude. It means more than just courage. It means to be brave and stand tall in the midst of pain. It means to endure. And oh, only the Gods know how much in this life you’ve endured.”

Your voice breaks, and at last, your cries are no longer silent. He holds you close, and you shake, sobbing, under the arms he has around you. When he pulls away, he finds that he’s no longer looking at you, but instead the face of a God. Or rather, his God. And Jaehyun isn’t sure what to do or how to act because suddenly he sees his God in you. He says your name like a prayer. Like a religious verse spilling from his lips.

And because he can’t think of anything more to say, he squeezes your hand, brings it to his lips, and presses a kiss to each one of your knuckles.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You are a ball of flames. Hot and burning in hues of orange, red, and blue. The song in your chest from earlier erupts into a symphony. But it’s a sad and dramatic orchestra so you continue to weep and cry until the flames have been reduced to scorch marks on your knuckles. Jaehyun’s coat suddenly feels heavy on your shoulders.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun did it on instinct. He kissed your hand because in the moment it felt like the most natural thing to do.

He doesn’t regret it.

He kisses it again. He lets his lips linger. And when Jaehyun lowers your hand back to his heart, he wonders if you can feel how wildly it beats and bangs from inside him.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You feel it. You feel the wildness of your own heart as well.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

You stand like that for so long. You crying. Jaehyun looking into the eyes of God. Your hand against Jaehyun’s restless heart.

You stand like that until you rip your hand away. He lets it fall from his grip. “Leave me be Jaehyun.” You say, tears still fleeing down your face.

He takes a step back from. “You’ve endured enough. Please, don’t make yourself endure this unhappiness too.”

With that, he bids you goodnight, leaving you alone on the balcony with nothing but yourself, the sea, and Jaehyun’s coat.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

That night is long and slow, but the sun welcomes you with a new day of warmth. A new day that also happens to be Jaehyun’s birthday. You do your best to ignore the sadness inside of you. A sadness caused by more than just your want for normalcy. You look down at the hand Jaehyun held in his the night before. You look at your scorched knuckles. You don’t want to look into it any further.

It storms the entire day, so you spend Jaehyun’s birthday inside playing cards, playing chess, and playing with the children. Insia announces she’ll be preparing a feast for dinner. Jaehyun thanks her then smiles, and to you, it looks sad.

***

There’s a knock on the door while you’re preparing yourself for dinner. You open it to Insia who looks you up and down, shakes her head, and mutters a small ‘that won’t do’ before disappearing down the hall. She returns moments later with a collection of her own dresses and lays them out on your bed.

“How about this?” Insia offers holding up a red dress.

You look down at the blue dress you already put on. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“Nothing, I just thought you might want to dress up tonight.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“For Jaehyun.” Insia says it blandly.

You feel like the wind’s been knocked out of you. “For Jaehyun?” You echo.

“Nevermind then,” Insia sighs, as if she’s talking to a child who won’t cooperate. She puts the dress down, and comes over, taking your hands in hers. What is it with these siblings and holding your hands? And why does it hurt so much when they do? “I was only giving you options. This dress is lovely too. I’m sure Jaehyun will be delighted no matter which dress you come to dinner in.” Insia leaves, and you ponder why in the world it would matter to Jaehyun which dress you came down in? Then you wonder why Jaehyun should take any delight in your appearance? The questions bring back a familiar sadness.

The bodice of the dress Insia brought is fitting, and the skirt was made to flow beautifully. It’s a newer style, one of the many fashion trends that went over your head. But it is indeed a pretty dress, so you change into it anyways.

Insia was right. Jaehyun looks delighted when you do eventually come down. Even you can’t look past the way his eyes seem to sparkle. “You look stunning.” He tells you as you make your way over to the dining room. “How come you’ve never worn this dress before?”

“It isn’t mine.” You confess. “Insia lent it to me for the night.”

“Ah,” Jaehyun exhales, “that makes much more sense. I wouldn’t have thought this dress to fit your style.” Jaehyun takes his seat, and you ponder yet again how Jaehyun has come acquainted with what is your style and what isn’t?

The dinner is a feast like Insia had said, but still, you can’t bring yourself to enjoy it. Your mind feels heavy and restless. You desperately want to rid your brain of the thoughts that plague it, and so your eyes land mindlessly on Jaehyun. You watch the way he cares for his nieces and nephews and the way he listens when they talk. You watch him eat and the way he smiles and throws his head back in laughter. You watch and notice all these little things about Jaehyun and find that you care for each one of them. You care for them deeply. It makes your heart feel as heavy as your head. You stand up abruptly and excuse yourself from dinner early, unable to continue silently suffering the pain of your heavy heart and heavy head. You don’t hear Jaehyun follow you out.

It’s when you’re halfway up the stairs that he catches up.

“Please, Jaehyun. Go back.” You continue, not looking back.

“No. Tell me what’s happened.”

You turn a corner, your room now near. “Don’t let me ruin your birthday. Go back to the dinner your sister prepared for you.”

You push your door open, and Jaehyun follows you inside. “Please, just tell me if you’re alright.” Jaehyun asks you so softly, so sweetly, it makes you feel impossibly frustrated. You wish Jaehyun wasn’t so gentle with you. It made it impossible to ignore the way your heart warms whenever he is near.

“Why do you care?” You ask hashly, gathering fistfulls of Insia’s red dress in your hands.

“I’ve always cared.” He sounds hurt, like the words have cut him.

“No Jaehyun, why? Why do you care?” If your words before cut him, this was you digging your fingers into the wound.

“I care…” he falters, searching for something in your face. You wish he didn’t look at you the way he does. “I care because I worry for you.”

“Well,” you huff, “why do you worry then?” Your words come out as more of an accusation than a question, although you yourself aren’t sure what it’s an accusation of.

Jaehyun searches your face again, and his eyes, his beautiful eyes, burn over every spot they touch. He must find what he’s looking for because in an instant his face, no, his entire body softens and he crumples into the chair behind him. Head bowed before you.

“I’m sorry,” he utters, “I’m sorry. I can’t hide this any longer. I can’t help it. I—“

You cut him off, crying. “Oh, please Jaehyun, don’t say it please.” You beg because you aren’t sure if you can bear to hear him say it aloud. And because you can’t ignore the desperation in Jaehyun’s voice.

“I won’t hide it from you. I can’t hide it, not anymore, not now that you know because I do. I love you. And I’ve loved you for so long now.”

You aren’t sure what makes you do it. Perhaps it’s the sadness in his voice or the love on his tongue. Perhaps you go towards Jaehyun because of your own will. But no matter the reason, you stand near where he sits and brushes the hair away from his eyes. He grabs your hand when you do and holds it against his head, bowing before it. As if he wouldn’t be able to stand it if your hand was doing anything but touching his face. As if he is offering his entire self to you. And you hate how much comfort you take in this. In having the back of your palm pressed against Jaehyun’s head. But you do, you take comfort in this little action. In this little declaration of love.

You fling your hand out of Jaehyun’s grip and stumble to your bed, which you fall onto, burying your face into the soft sheets, weeping. You weep because you don’t like love. And because love will always lead to loss. And because you’re tired of losing. You weep because you don’t want to lose Jaehyun.

And suddenly, Jaehyun is standing next to you. You can sense that Jaehyun is crying too. He caresses your hair gently.

“I don’t mean to push my love on you. I just can’t bear to hide it anymore. Because hiding it feels like a lie, and I don’t wish to lie to you.” He pauses, his hand lingering behind your ear. “Please, don’t push me away. The last thing I want is for things to change.” And you know Jaehyun is smarter than to think this won’t change anything. Love had a way of forging its own path in life. He continues. “I can’t bear to lose you. I can’t fathom a life where I lose you. I love you but I don’t expect you to love me too. I never will. Don’t push me away. Please.” He presses a silent kiss to your hair, and it only makes you weep harder.

“Leave me be, Jaehyun.” You say for the second time this weekend. And it hurts to say as much as it did before, because in actuality the last thing you want is for Jaehyun to be anywhere but by your side. But you send him away regardless because when he is near, your heart beats too fast for your mind to think of anything but him and his smile and his laugh. Jaehyun shuts the door quietly.

You think how unfair it is that you should take so much pleasure in the kisses he presses to your hands and hair. And pleasure in his company and in every single innocent touch. You think how unfair it is that Jaehyun must love you. You think it’s unfair and cruel and mean and wrong. You cry for the unfairness of the world, and then you cry yourself to sleep as well.

***

You spend the next day, your last day on this island, in your room. They bring you meals, but you aren’t able to eat a single one. You spend the whole day in your head.

It’s evening when you do eventually leave your room. You go straight to Jaehyun’s, and slip a letter under the door.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun spends most of the day on the beach, throwing his worries into the reef and watching them roll away with the waves. When he returns to his room, he finds a letter from you. His heart stops.

Dear Jaehyun, Last night, you said that you couldn’t bear to lose me. That you couldn’t fathom a life where you lose me. But the thing is, love has always led to loss, and I will always be the one losing. Because one day, you’ll die and I won’t. I don’t have to fathom a life without you. I just have to wait for it. I’m tired of loving and losing. One day, I’ll lose you as a friend, don’t make me lose you as a lover too. -Fortitude

When he finishes reading the letter, his heart starts beating again. Except that it doesn’t beat, it breaks. He had been reckless with his words. He isn’t going to make that mistake again. He writes you a letter of his own.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE— Dear Fortitude, Forgive me. I was careless and stupid with my words, and I can’t pretend to understand your specific pain. You told me once, long ago, that you aren’t immortal. Which means your pain is not forever either. But even then, you are not alone in loss. We all love. We all lose. Everyone is bound for that sadness, including me and you. We know that and yet still, we wear our hearts on our sleeves and fall in love again and again, over and over. Don’t let the pain of loss keep you from the joy of love. Please. -Jaehyun

You find yourself thinking of the time after the death of Avi. The time where you lived without love. The period of time that you’ve blocked from memory. Perhaps, Jaehyun is right. Perhaps there is no life without love. And not just romantic love, but platonic love, familial love, and love in all its forms. The thought feels heavy in your mind.

***

You’re walking through the halls of the house at night when you find Jaehyun. He’s on the same balcony as two nights ago, staring at the sea. You stand in the hall and watch him.

You recall how strong the wind was that night and how Jaehyun had an extra coat. You remember how warm it felt to have something of his draped over your shoulders. And looking back, it seems so simple. It seems obvious that when Jaehyun gave you his coat, it was more than just a kind gesture. It was a declaration of his love. It hits you then, how many times Jaehyun has told you, or rather showed you his love. He showed you when he held your hand against his beating heart and when he pressed kisses to your knuckles. He said ‘I love you’ every single time he listened to you talk and all those days he spent teaching you how to swim. He showed you when he let you jump from Angel’s Peak, when he didn’t let you sink, and when he carried you back to the beach. He told you that he loved you when he gave you a burning log to throw in the fire at his father’s memorial. He told you that day he ran in the sand with you, like the child you never got to be, and he said it each time he braided your hair. And like a wave crashing over, you realize that Jaehyun has been declaring his love in a million different ways since the day he offered the sea as yours to take. Your heart carries each one of these confessions, each one of Jaehyun’s silent declarations, until it sinks and sinks and sinks within your own body.

In all your years, through all your loss, you’ve grown to dislike romantic love. But looking at him now, you realize Jaehyun’s love for you is more than just romantic. His love for you is one of respect and admiration. His love for you is one of understanding. His love for you is pure. Purer than any love you have known before. You look at Jaehyun again, really look at Jaehyun. You look at the way the moonlight bounces off his skin and hair, and the way he rests his elbows over the railing. You look at the way he bends one knee. You look at Jaehyun and see more than you’ve ever seen in him before. You look at Jaehyun and see a God. But not just any God, you see your God. And you have no idea what to do.

It’s while staring at his figure on the balcony that you realize you love Jaehyun too. It’s then that you realize you have been falling in love with the little things since the day he took you to see the sea. But oh, how the little things were everywhere and everything.

And suddenly the realization is bursting through the balcony doors and into the arms of the man you love. The realization pours out from your eyes and heart. The realization spills from your lips and paints itself across the night sky. The realization is screaming, breaking itself free. In your head, you chant. I love you. I love you. I love you. Out loud, you say, “And you must know, I’ll love you for a very long time.”

And Jaehyun’s laughing, holding you in his arms, blissfully, as if there’s nothing that could have made him happier. As if there’s no place he'd rather be than right here with you on this balcony overlooking the sea. He laughs and then leans his forehead against yours. “I love you too, and you must know that right now, I want to kiss you quite terribly.”

And because he loves you. And because you love him. And because he made you laugh after a weekend spent crying, you tilt up your chin and close the distance. For a moment, everything fits perfectly, and you, once again, feel shatteringly happy.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun imagines the feeling fluttering in his chest that morning can only be described as bliss. But to him it is more. It’s more than blissful to wake up to you sleeping in his shirt on his bed tangled in his sheets and limbs. But alas, bliss would do for now.

He takes his bliss and presses it to your shoulder then neck then jaw then cheek. He presses a number of blissful kisses to the infinite spots on your face he’s yet to kiss until you’re awake pushing at Jaehyun’s face.

“I’m not ready to wake up,” you groan, turning your body flush against Jaehyun.

“We’ll miss the boat back if we don’t get up soon.” He reminds, tracing mindless shapes against the curve of your hips.

You sigh and bury your face deeper into his chest. “I’ve ruined our weekend haven’t I?”

He pulls you impossibly closer. “You haven’t ruined anything.”

***

The boat ride from the island back to the mainland is long and slow, and the entire time, Jaehyun is jumping in his seat, ready to return home.

“You must miss him.” You mutter from next to him. Jaehyun doesn’t have to ask to know you’re talking about Younghoon. He nods, turning to you.

“And how about you, what do you miss?”

You look up at the sky, smiling. “I miss,” you tap on Jaehyun’s knee, “jumping from Angel’s Peak.” Jaehyun laughs, capturing the moment and capturing your hand in his.

When you do eventually dock, Jaehyun leads you away from the road home and towards the beach. He surprises himself with the gesture as much as he does you. By the time you reach the sand, you’re running. And you run and run and run. Past the estate. Whipping off your coats and shoes. Discarding your worries in the sand. Running. Wild. In love. You both run until you reach the rocks. And you’re climbing Angel’s Peak while Jaehyun’s diving, piercing his body into the water. You climb then run then jump, piercing the sea yourself moments later. And you both swim around each other ducking and diving in the water.

Suddenly it’s a contest: who can hold their breath the longest. Jaehyun counts the seconds. One. Two. (You kiss him) Three. Four.

Five. (He kisses you) Six.

You return to the estate finally, greeting Younghoon drenched and swollen with love.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

It’s the day after you and Jaehyun return from Insia and Cyrin’s home that you and Younghoon fight for the first time. In all honesty, you have been itching to fight with someone again ever since your talk with Jaehyun. And when you told Younghoon at dinner the night before, that you would be willing to fight him, he was itching to fight with you as well.

For the first couple days, you start simple. A few rehearsed drills and fighting moves. Jaehyun usually watches, sitting in a corner of the courtyard with a book. And when you feel comfortable enough to do so, you advance to Younghoon attacking with jabs and punches here and there and you blocking them while also studying his technique. You learn that Younghoon is a good fighter, but his movements are choppy and slow as if he hasn’t fought in a while which in his defense, he hasn’t. You imagine Younghoon would be better equipped in a sword fight rather than the hand to hand combat you were drilling now. By the end of the first week, Younghoon gets restless, wanting to do more. You reluctantly agree. It’s fine at first, you focus mainly on deflecting his attacks and blocking his moves. When you sidestep from an attack, you see your chance and take it, punching Younghoon in the gut. You only realize after the fact that you’ve done it too hard. Nothing fatal, but a punch hard enough that if you had hit him an inch higher, his rib would’ve broken from the impact. You refuse to fight Younghoon for a while after that. When you do return to fighting, a whole week later back to the basic drills and blocking, you no longer allow Jaehyun to watch.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

The days that follow are some of the happiest for Jaehyun. Jaehyun and you spend whole days in each other's bedrooms and under the sheets. Younghoon catches on to the two of you almost immediately. Perhaps he caught on before you realized anything yourselves.

The other days you spend walking along the shore or drinking tea in the courtyard. And on the days Jaehyun must do work in his office, Younghoon and you play chess in the corner. You continue to send Risals: to Roen and Orindell and another unanswered one to Peter.

You and Younghoon continue training without Jaehyun in attendance. Once you get the hang of controlling the strength of your blows and kicks with an almost frightening amount of precision, you let Jaehyun return to his spot in the corner. And even Jaehyun, who knows nothing about fighting, is amazed by your skill. Skill that is far too good to be fighting with Younghoon, who looks ready to die from exhaustion after every single one of your fights. And yet, despite the way you barely break a sweat, you look unbelievably happy after each and every fight.

Word gets out eventually, likely thanks to Vina’s gossiping, that the Gift of Fortitude has fighting shows in the courtyard of Lord Jaehyun’s estate. And soon enough, every afternoon a flock of young boys, guards, and locally stationed Knights arrive at the courtyard to watch you fight. You no longer mind the crowd. A few brave Knights and guards even try challenging you. You go especially easy for the sake of their bodies, but spare no care when it comes to attacking their egos. But still, even those fights make you happy.

The happiest you look, however, is when Vina asks you to teach her something. You make Vina begin immediately. And as it turns out you’re a wonderful teacher, although when Jaehyun mentions this, you deny it telling Jaehyun it’s only because you taught Juyeon and the Princes. Nonetheless, you teach Vina moves and tricks that would be useful to her like how to use the weight of her opponent against her and how to properly hold a knife and attack with it. It doesn’t take long for Jaehyun’s courtyard to be filled with young boys and girls alike all learning how to defend themselves and fight from you.

And every second that you aren’t teaching and Jaehyun isn’t working, you spend in the water, wading between the waves and floating on your backs. You jump from Angel’s Peak until you feel that you've outgrown it, beginning to search for higher cliffs in the horizon. You race each other from the docks to the rocks and hold numerous contests to see who can hold their breath for longer. You win everything every time, and Jaehyun has never been so happy.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You’re sitting in the courtyard alone playing with the stray cats, when you hear the Risal’s call signaling the return of the letter you sent to the Golden Palace and to Price Orindell.

Dear Fortitude, I regret to inform you that father has been acting oddly again. Roen and I suspect that he might be preparing to try another ‘experiment’. Roen fears what’s to come if we don’t hear from Peter soon. I take it you haven’t heard from him yourself. I’ve begun to worry for Peter as you do. Do you think he’s okay? Father wants me to cut the pay for the Knights, but how does he expect me to keep an army loyal to this kingdom if we don’t pay them properly? Honestly, Fortitude, I worry for father too. I know he must be taken off the throne, but I worry for him beyond the crown. I worry for his health. He’s getting sicker by the days. It’s difficult to see one’s own father spiral into madness. I’m already saddened with thoughts of how all this will turn out. I’m afraid I’ve made this letter into a collection of my worries. Do you think I worry too much? I hope you’re taking care of yourself. In better news, Captain Juyeon and his squadron have been stationed near Lord Jaehyun’s estate by the Commander himself. Consider it a gift from me to you. He should be arriving in a day or two. And please, give Juyeon a punch for me. - Orindell

You think a visit from Juyeon might be the first piece of good news you’ve received from the palace in weeks. You jump up and run back into the estate to tell Younghoon and Jaehyun.

***

You’re in the kitchen with Vina eating fruit when Juyeon arrives.

“He’s here.” Jaehyun tells you, popping his head in the kitchen.

You snap up and look at Jaehyun as if waiting for him to admit he’s joking. He only nods.

So you grab his hand and run.

The first thing you do when you see Juyeon is punch him, as hard as Orindell would.

“Ow!” He yelps, then tilts his head, confused. “Did your punches get weaker?”

You finally hug him, and exhale into his shoulder. “That punch was from Orindell.” You pull away from the embrace. “And this one,” you punch his other arm, much harder than before but not any harder than he’s already used to, “is from me.”

He winces, clutching both arms. “You could’ve just said no.”

You smile. “But where’s the fun in that.”

Once Juyeon, Jaehyun, and Younghoon have all been properly introduced, the other two give you and Juyeon some time to catch up. You take him to the beach for a walk.

“How long are you staying?”

Juyeon sighs. “Not long. We leave in two days.”

You sigh as well. “That’s much too soon.”

“Yes, but in lighter news,” Juyeon says, jostling you with his shoulder, “Orindell told me you two made peace.”

“We did.” You hum with a smile.

And so you continue to walk and talk along the shore. Juyeon tells you about all his travels in the time you’ve been apart. And you tell him about the time you’ve spent here, at Jaehyun’s estate. You tell him about jumping from Angel’s Peak and learning how to swim. You tell him about Jaehyun, Younghoon, Vina, Insia, Cyrin, and the kids. You tell him about how the fog in your mind is so much weaker than it was when you left from the Golden Palace, and how much you’ve been able to learn about your past and about yourself. Although you decide to wait to tell Juyeon the specifics.

Juyeon listens closely, nodding his head along. Once you’re done, he smiles mischievously, a new question on his tongue. “And so how long did it take you to realize you’re in love with Lord Jaehyun?”

Your mouth drops, and you look at Juyeon shocked. “Well, longer than it took you to put it together.”

“Ah, well, not everyone is as clueless as you when it comes to matters of the heart.” He tells you with a laugh. “If the King knew how much you’re enjoying the southern sea, I think he’d whisk you back to the palace immediately. You look happy.”

You turn your head towards the water and wait for a wave to crash before responding. “I am.” The admission seems to make Juyeon happy as well. “Also, I’ve been meaning to say, but I think it’s about time we fought each other, Captain Juyeon.”

He stops in his tracks. “Really?”

You nod. And then you tell him about how you’ve outgrown your fear of fighting and losing yourself in it. And how you’ve come to control your own strength against your opponent. “Every afternoon, either I’m teaching the local children how to fight or I’m fighting Captain Younghoon and one of the guards. But now that you’re here, I think it’s time I put all those years I spent teaching you how to fight to use.” You pause, waiting for his response.

He grips your shoulders and smiles excitedly. “You should know, I have been waiting for this day since I was 17 years old.”

***

“Please don’t beat the life out of me.” Juyeon jokes that afternoon as you face each other in the courtyard ready to fight.

“I won’t. Although, I wish I could beat out of you your fear of Risals.” At that, Juyeon laughs. The courtyard is filled with Jaehyun, Younghoon, mina, the guards, Juyeon’s squadron, the other Knights, and your students all awaiting the match between Captain Juyeon, one of the best fighters in the Knights of the Holy Order, and the Gift of Fortitude. You find you’re also excited for this match. Juyeon is a good fighter. You trained him for over five years, and in that time, you taught him all your moves. He knows the way you pick your fights and plot your moves. And perhaps, after his training with the Knights, Juyeon will surprise you with some new moves that you have yet to see. That being said, you don't doubt your ability to win. You might struggle a bit more than you do when fighting with Younghoon, but the thought makes your blood jump with excitement more than anything.

You circle each other for a second, and when Juyeon does charge towards you fist clenched, it takes you a moment to register that he’s moved before you dodge the punch. You block his arm with yours and use the momentum to twirl around him, bringing your knee up to jam into his side. He lunges at you again. And then once more. You let the second blow hit your stomach just to see how strong Juyeon is and regret it the moment you do. He’s strong, and your own tolerance for pain is low. You sidestep from his next kick and use the imbalance to tackle him to the ground. And in the few seconds it takes for him to react, you pummel into his stomach with the same force that he punched you with and slap him on the face once, although the slap is petty and harmless. He clutches his cheek with fake shock before pushing you off him and to the ground, your back on the grass. He pins down your arms. “Don’t blame me for your own decision to take the hit.” He teases while also landing punches to your stomach for the small second he has you caged under his own body weight. You exhale dramatically heaving your legs up to throw him off. It’s only once you’re up that you feel the pain of his blows, although the pain does not feel as bad as it did before. You’re both on your feet again. Circling each other. Punching and kicking faster than you’ve seen in a while and faster than you’ve had to do yourself in years. You’re tackling each other to the ground in one moment and back on your feet in the next. Juyeon is fast. And you feel rusty fighting him. He’s punching and lunging at you with no rest even managing to hit you on some occasions but not in the way he wants for you’re always able to duck or twist your body just in time for the impact. You swipe your leg under his and it takes almost all your strength for the move to topple him onto his back. You find yourself thinking that you’ve instilled in Juyeon the importance of a good stance too well. But once he’s on his back, you kick him onto this stomach and quickly pounce onto him, trapping his hands behind his back with one hand and using your other hand to push his face into the grass. You use one foot to pin down both of his legs by the ankle and shove your other knee into the small of his back.

“Surrender.” You pant.

You lift his head up out of the grass by his hair. You’re surprised to hear that he’s laughing although it comes out ragged behind his heavy breathing. “I surrender.”

And you fall onto your back in the grass next to him, clutching your stomach that’s beginning to ache with your own laughs. You are exhausted and jumping within your own body from the excitement all at the same time. You lay on the grass utterly delighted with the fight.

And once the people in the courtyard realize it’s ended, they erupt in an applause.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

It’s at dinner with everyone that you tell Juyeon all that you’ve remembered in the past months. You tell him about the Holy Wars and Lord Seth’s death. At last, you give him an answer to the question about the Nomads he asked that night back at the Golden Palace. He seems satisfied with all that you’ve told him, as if the pieces are finally coming together and in a sense, they are.

“So then there’s just one more question left to ask.” He muses, sitting back in his chair. “Do you remember what else you told Peter the night before he left?”

You suck in a breath. Had you told him something else? Perhaps whatever else you told Peter that night had something to do with why you advised him to go to the Nomads’ Land specifically, beyond their connection with the Elders. Perhaps it had something to do with—

oh.

Suddenly your head splits into two, and in the chasm that emerges, you remember.

“I do.” You breathe, cradling your head in your hands and unbelieving of your own memories. “Who told you?”

“Peter told Roen and Orindell before he left. Orindell told me. We all had questions for you. But Roen was always on some eastern campaign, and you and Orindell weren’t even talking. I tried asking you, but you denied it every time I brought it up. You could barely remember before, but today you said that you’re remembering more now. You said the fog in your mind is clearing. Is it clear enough to tell me more? Do you remember enough to explain why you said what you did?”

You’re silent, trying to make sense of your own foggy memories. It’s Jaehyun who eventually asks it. He leans towards you, and the hand he places on your hunched back feels like a vote of confidence and another of comfort, “are you alright?” You nod. He waits a beat. “What did you tell Peter that night?”

You look at Jaehyun. Then Younghoon. Then Juyeon; he nods. All three watch you carefully.

“I told him that…” you gulp, picking at the table and then your shirt as well, “I told him one of the Seven Sins is still alive. I sent him to the Nomads’ Lands because I think they’ll know how to find the Sin”

Jaehyun and Younghoon look at you insanely, almost as insanely as you feel.

Juyeon starts laughing at the madness of it all.

It’s a hard thing for you to explain, but you try anyway. “I know it’s difficult to believe. But I know it in my gut, and I think I’ve known it for quite some time now.” You tell them how when the Gifts arrived at your village and pronounced you the Gift of Fortitude, it was like you had been relieved of this lump in your throat or like they had reached into your stomach and pulled out a rock sitting at the bottom. It was only after the Holy Wars ended, with the signing of a treaty by you and Avi, that you realized the lump in your throat and the rock in your gut had returned. But you lived with the lump for so long and learned to tolerate the rock so well that you almost forgot about it entirely. That was until one day you woke in your rooms at the Golden Palace to a clear throat and empty stomach. You didn’t even realize what it meant until the week you told Peter.

And somewhere in the midst of recounting everything to Jaehyun, Juyeon, and Younghoon, your mind feels suddenly, blissfully clear. That night, you do more than just remember.

You shoot up from your seat, startling all three of them. You find paper in the next room and begin to write to Peter. Because in your clarity, you see more than you’ve ever seen before. You know how to help Peter find the Sin. Your hand flies across the paper, clarity leading the pen with a mind of its own. And by the time you’re done, Jaehyun, Younghoon, and Juyeon have followed you into the kitchen. All four of them stare at your scribblings.

“What is that?”

“I think it’s supposed to be a letter.”

“No, no. It’s a drawing.”

“Actually,” you cut all three of them off, “I think it’s meant to be a map.”

The three boys share a look.

“What do you mean you think?”

“You’re the one who drew it, how can you not know?”

“I still think it’s a drawing.”

“Please.” You spit at the boys, grinding your teeth at the bubbling pain in your head. “It’s a map. And it’s for Peter.” You retrieve your Risal, and pray silently that your message finds him, and that he’ll be able to make sense of your muddled clarity. “Peter will know.” You add before whispering his name to the Risal and watching the bird disappear into the night sky.

Juyeon shifts his weight between his feet. The question that leaves his lips sounds painfully hopeful. “You really can’t remember?”

Then, all at once, your pain returns. Blurring your vision, making you feel nauseous and unsure. Your body, your mind, your limbs feel weak. Weaker than after you swim for miles with Jaehyun. Weaker than after your fight with Juyeon. This pain is more than physical. This pain consumes you. It infiltrates your entire being. But this is a pain you know. This is how you feel every time the fog in your mind reclaims its territory.

You fall to your knees, Jaehyun catching you in his arms before you hit the ground completely. You grimace into his shoulder. He says something to Younghoon who shuffles away hurriedly before carrying you in his arms away from the kitchen and back to your bedroom. The last thing you remember before everything turns black is the pain in your head and Jaehyun’s voice in your ear.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun can’t sleep that night. He sits by your bedside instead and waits for you to wake up, unable to erase the look on your face moments before you passed out. Jaehyun is no stranger to the fog in your mind, but at dinner something was different, off. When you first started telling Jaehyun about your past, you suffered from headaches often, but as time passed and as your past became a familiar topic of conversation, the headaches faded away. Jaehyun can’t even remember the last time you requested the migraine medicine from Vina. And more than that, you never seemed to forget what you remembered with Jaehyun. But last night was nothing like what Jaehyun had seen before. In one moment, you knew everything with a startling amount of certainty, and then in the next, you were kneeling on the floor, crying in pain. Jaehyun can’t seem to rid his mind of the look on your face, a look that expressed more than just your pain, a look that screamed confusion. Jaehyun can’t forget how lost you looked in your own mind and how hard you were trying to claw your way out. Jaehyun tries to think of something else.

He hears rustling beside him, and you’re up, attempting to sit up in the bed. He coaxes you into laying back down. And once you’re really awake, rubbing circles to your temples, Jaehyun asks if you’re feeling any better.

“Not by much.” You groan, dropping your hands on the bed.

Jaehyun takes a seat on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. He takes your free hand in his and squeezes. “Tell me what you remember.”

And so you do. “Was it a map that I sent to Peter?” You ask once you’ve reached the end. Jaehyun nods, and you sigh an ‘oh’ turning your head away.

A silence engulfs the room, and there’s something in your voice when you whisper, “why is it that I can’t remember why I sent it?” that makes a piece of Jaehyun break. He doesn’t know what to say. So you stare at the ceiling until you silently slip back into sleep.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE— The Risal returns the next day while you and Jaehyun are sitting at the rocks alone. It’s been months since anyone has heard from Peter, so when the Risal lands on your arm dropping a letter in your lap, you’re more than just shocked. You read it silently.

Dear Fortitude, Firstly, I presume I should apologize for not answering any of your previous Risals. I had no good news to share. That is, until now. We’ve deciphered your code. We know exactly what to do now. I’m not sure how you knew this was what we needed to finish. Meet us at my castle. From there, we’ll go together. The end is near. -Peter

“What’s it say?” Jaehyun questions. You look at him softly before handing him the letter to read for himself.

He’s quiet then, “oh.” He folds the letter, placing it back in your lap. “I thought you said it was a map.”

“Jaehyun.” You whisper, not letting him ignore the thoughts and worries that plague both your minds.

He pouts and looks out towards the sea. When he speaks at last, he does it so softly, it makes a part of you burn. “You should go.”

You hurl a small rock into the water. “What if I don’t want to?”

“I hate to say it, but you—“

“I know.” You take a shallow breath. “I have to.”

Things are put into place quietly after that. All of the Princes have their own castle although none of them spend much time at them. Peter’s castle is northwest of King’s City, a day's worth of riding with a strong horse. You would ride with Juyeon’s squadron to King’s City, and from there you would ride to Peter castle which was built right into the side of the western mountains alone. It would take you three days of riding if you’re lucky. Five days if you’re not. In truth, you don’t want to leave Jaehyun's estate, and you most certainly don’t want to bid goodbye to the sea.

This is what you want: to throw yourself off of Angel’s Peak like a sack of flour. You want to swim in the cold, freezing water. You want to swim away from the kingdom. From the King. From your worries. From your fears. You want to swim far far away to some remote, undiscovered island where you no longer have to be the Gift of Fortitude. And you want to do it all with Jaehyun.

But you pack your bags instead, send Peter a Risal telling him you’ll arrive at his castle soon. You say goodbye to Jaehyun and Younghoon that night. You and Juyeon would be leaving before they wake. And later that night, you go to Jaehyun’s room and sleep in his bed and cry into his pillow because you don’t want to leave. But more than that, you don’t want to leave him. You say goodbye again.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun jolts out of bed. He feels disgustingly cold when he realizes that he’s woken up alone. That you’re already gone. But then he hears shouting and horseshoes against pavement from out of his window. He looks behind the curtains and makes out six figures on horseback, just beginning to ride away from the estate. He’s running out of his room, slipping on shoes and a shirt, and dragging his horse out of the stables, desperately trying to catch up to Juyeon’s squadron and needing to catch up to you.

He’s riding faster than wind through the town roads, screaming your name. And when he finally catches up to you, in the forest path, he leaps off his horse and runs to you. You see him at the same time he sees you, jumping off your horse as well and flinging yourself into Jaehyun’s arm. Only once he’s embracing you in his arms does Jaehyun realize he’s crying. Juyeon leads his squadron further down the path, slowly so that you can catch up afterwards, but away to give you privacy.

“You didn’t say goodbye.” He cries into your hair.

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You should’ve. I barely sleep as it is.”

“All the more reason not to, Jaehyun.”

He squeezes his arms around you.

“Ask me to stay.” You whisper into his neck, sad and lonely.

“I can’t.” He whispers back. You pull away and look at his face. Swiping your thumbs across his cheeks.

“Tell me you hate me then.” You weep. “And that you want me to go. Tell me you want me far away from here.“

“Fortitude—”

“Tell me something to make me hate you.”

“—I can’t.”

You inhale sharply, grabbing fitfulls of his shirt in your hands. “Then tell me something that will make it easier to bear the pain of leaving you.”

He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, noticing that your hair is in a braid. Jaehyun hesitates. “Did you do your hair yourself? When did you learn how to braid it?”

You slap his chest. “You dummy. I’ve known how to braid since the first time you showed me.” And then you’re crying again, burying your face into his chest. Jaehyun’s laughing and crying, stroking your braided hair because how foolish is it you both should have wanted nothing more than to be near each other since the very beginning. And how foolish is it that it took you so long to admit, to yourselves and to each other.

“I love you.”

“Not that,” you bawl, “tell me anything but that.”

“I love you.” He repeats. “And one day, when all this is over, we’ll go west. To where the mountains meet the sea. So that you’ll have an infinite number of cliffs to throw yourself off of.” You nod, laughing through the tears. Jaehyun kisses you. Once. Twice. Again. And over.

“I’ll come back, Jaehyun.” You promise. “I’ll come back here, to you.”

“Well, yeah, you have to.” You look at him confused but amused. He continues softly. “Because the sea is still yours to take.”

You laugh once. Kiss him twice. Then mount your horse riding down the path again. And Jaehyun watches you go, holding your last I love you to his chest.

a/n: i feel a little odd and scared to be reposting this piece... again. but i’ve been flirting with the idea of reposting it for tbz for too long for me to not lol. also i didn’t edit or proofread this very thoroughly so if the names got mixed up somewhere within this monster then thats why my bad

#the boyz scenarios #hyunjae scenarios #the boyz x reader #hyunjae x reader #lee jaehyun scenarios #lee jaehyun x reader #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #the boyz angst #hyunjae imagines #hyunjae fanfic #hyunjae angst #hyunjae fluff #tbz scenarios #mine #the sea is yours to take

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ggukkiedae · 3 years

Text

❝𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕟’𝕥❞

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:

⇢ hannah gets two different points of view regarding her dilemma: within the group and out of the group

⇢ set in late march 2018

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜:

⇢ hints at self-esteem issues

𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:

⇢ conversations written in italics are spoken in english. feedback is highly appreciated!

Hannah took a deep breath as she entered the dark practice room. It had become a habit to leave only one of the corner lights on so it wouldn’t look like there was anyone in there. This way, no one came in before she left in the morning.

She sighed. Having to decline Donghyuck’s offer of a lunch date despite their schedule was upsetting mostly because she knew it made him sad. She tossed her bag to the side and settled next to the door.

“Rough day?”

The unfamiliar voice caught her attention. She looked up and saw someone near the mirrors. She nodded. “Yeah, a little.”

“Sorry, you might not know me,” he walked towards her and hestured to the floor in front of her asking if he could sit, which she obliged, “but we’ve been talking to each other on katalk because of Jaemin.”

Her eyes lit up with realization. “Yangyang!”

“That’s me.”

“Sorry you had to see me all exhausted for the first time we meet in person.” A guilty smile made its way up to her face.

He shook his head at her statement. “No, it’s fine. I get it. Not to mention you’re being overworked, aren’t you? With being in all the promotions?”

“You have no idea.”

A short silence fell between the two, but it wasn’t awkward. It was quite comforting, actually. The last few days basically had her not talking to people comfortably, so it was nice to just sit and not be cautious about throwing off the other members’ dynamics or making them uncomfortable.

“If I’m not overstepping,” the trainee began while scratching the back of his neck, “have you been okay? I’ve seen the articles about you recently, and the other trainees have been talking about how you spend so much time in practice rooms even if you have a full schedule.”

She smiled at him. “Let’s just say I really need to catch up with the 127 members in terms of skill.”

He gave her a confused look at her statement. “You know, you’re just as skilled as them. The higher ups wouldn’t have added you if you weren’t.”

“They would for publicity.”

“Fine, you have a point.” His slightly disappointed grumble made her laugh. “With you, though, it’s because of your talent. They saw your potential for more mature concepts. Not to mention you’re pretty popular among the trainees for being a powerful vocalist and rapper despite having a main dancer position.”

Admittedly, hearing those words were assuring. She scanned his face for a bit as if looking for any signs of lies, yet she found none. A small smile made its way onto her face before disappearing upon remembering her being the cause of her members’ discomfort.

“It’s a little more than that, but thanks.”

Just then, Yangyang’s phone lit up with a notification. The boy checked it quick before looking at Hannah apologetically.

“Well, I’m going to have to leave you here,” he told her. “The others are looking for me.”

“Go on and get some sleep.”

He nodded and stood up before looking at her again. “Just so you know, the other NCT members love having you around. I hear them talk about you fondly a lot around the company. If something’s wrong, I’m sure they’d be willing to help.”

Hannah watched while Yangyang left the room. His words took up her mind. The other members talked about her? They liked having her around? What happened to them having to change the way they act because she was there?

In all honesty, she’s been pretty sad about not really hanging out with the other members the whole week. She felt bad everytime she turned a member down when they offered for her to join them. As introverted as she was, all the noisy meals she’d be part of, her hanging out in the 127 dorms, just everything, she missed it.

She shook her head with a chuckle before speaking out loud. “NCT, look what you’ve done to me. You’ve made me miss human interaction.”

She stood up and dusted herself off. Maybe a few runs of different choreographies would help her clear her mind. After all, it would be productive. Perfect the choreography while avoiding thoughts, right? It’s not like she hasn’t done it before. She’d do it again.

Except, she couldn’t.

The doors to the practice room burst open once again, except this time it was none other than her twin flame followed by her two best friends. She groaned when she saw the determined look on Donghyuck’s face, already knowing he would not leave her until he gets what he wants. And she her suspicions.

“Lee Haeeun,” Donghyuck started packing her things as he scolded her, “You are coming with me to the 127 dorms where we are going to have a big dinner then sleeping in. It’s a practice day tomorrow, anyway. We’re calling in sick.”

Her suspicions were correct.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” The look she received from Jaemin while silently asking for help was one she knew all too well. Jeno slipped off to the side to look for her jacket.

“Listen to him, Hannah,” Jaemin approached her, holding her face in his hands. The way she didn’t push him away made him worry. She usually hates when people do stuff like this to her. “We know you’ve been using my mix of coffee to stay awake. We know you haven’t been going back to the dorms at all. From the looks of it, you’re spending all your time practicing. What did I tell you about overworking yourself?”

“Not to,” she mumbled while looking down.

She felt her coat being draped around her shoulders. Jeno helped her slip her arms through the sleeve before throwing an arm around her. He gave Jaemin a quick glance, leaving the latter to nod before approaching Donghyuck. That left the two other 00s just out of ear’s reach if they spoke lowly.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she rolled her eyes while lightly pushing Jeno’s chin to make him face the opposite direction. “I had my reasons.”

He chuckled just the slightest bit. “I know. It would help, though, if you tell us your reasons. Haechan’s been worried sick, and I’m pretty sure Jaemin’s close to having you on house arrest after finding out you haven’t been in your dorm for a while.”

She bit her lip, pondering on what to do. Was it worth it to tell them that she felt out of place in the group after two years of promoting with them? Or would they think it’s stupid? Maybe they’d agree that she wasn’t enough to be grouped with them. What if they judged her for all this and thought she was annoying or dramatic? All these thoughts were eating away at her mind, making her completely unaware of the fact that her nails were digging into the palms of her hands. Her actions went completely unnoticed by her until she felt Jeno lightly pry her hands open and press his handkerchief to one of her hands while he held the other.

“It’s fine,” he reminded her as their two friends approached them. “It’s just me, Hyuck, and Nana.”

“We’d never judge you no matter what, Haeeunie.”

Donghyuck led her over to the couch and sat her down, Jeno crouching right by them and Jaemin sitting behind Hannah to begin braiding her hair. Something he liked to do to make her feel relaxed.

Was she really going to tell these three what was going on? She could just say that she felt like she needed the extra practice. That would get her scolded, though. She could say she’s been sleeping over at Yoonmi’s. Then again, Mark could easily call the younger girl and ask if it’s true. Besides, the internationally popular 01 liner had a lot on her plate already. She could say that she’s been hanging out with Yangyang more. One look at Donghyuck made her think twice. Either he’d immediately tell she was lying because he’d know when she made new friends in real life, or he’d get overprotective and end up leading to another katalk incident type rant.

She took a deep breath. Maybe the truth would be the best?

“I guess I just thought I needed to give you guys a little space.”

Her statement was met with confused looks from the three boys. Why would she need to give the rest of the members space? If anything, the members needed to give her space considering how much coddling she was receiving, especially since she wasn’t used to it and found it uncomfortable.

“Nothing bad, I promise,” she said as she shook her hands at them, “I was just thinking. I have to do a lot to catch up with the 127 members and the U members as well. Not to mention I need to pick up my skill since you guys and the rest of the dreamies are becoming better dancers than I am. I have to be up to par with your level, you know?”

“And who told you this?” Donghyuck’s eyes darkened upon hearing her indirectly put herself down. “Who told you that you weren’t up to par with us?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve read the articles,” Jaemin cooed at her as he finished braiding her hair. He rested his hands on her shoulders and pressed a light kiss to the top of her head.

Jeno, on the other hand, squinted his eyes at her. “You did. You’re overthinking again, Hannah.”

“No, I’m not.” The way her fist clenched tighter around the boy’s handkerchief did not go unnoticed.

“Yes, you are,” Jeno told her. “First things first, you’ve been training for longer than a lot of the hyungs in the company. You even did gymnastics, cheerleading, and some dancing before getting here. Second, you’re a way better dancer than us. You understand your body and the way it moves really well. I don’t know about the hyungs, but we go to you for help with our dance, remember?”

“That’s my Haeeunie,” Donghyuck lightly patted her cheek. “Top notch dancer, can’t be beat. This is why you shouldn’t listen to these airheads if they say you’re not up to par with us.”

A small smile made its way to her face. “Thanks, guys.”

“No,” Jeno inserted, “there’s more. You wouldn’t be avoiding the hyungs in the waiting room and in schedules just because you think you’re not up to par with them. What else is going on?”

She looked at them one by one, Jeno’s knowing look and Jaemin’s worried look burning into her skin. She glanced at Donghyuck and saw the guilt in his eyes.

“You already know, don’t you? I guess I feel out of place. The 127 oppas have been together for so long and have their own dynamics, and suddenly I’m there making them act different. I don’t wanna impose on anything. Not to mention, being in a group with 18 men as a girl can be pretty overwhelming. I’m the odd one out, it’s pretty obvious.”

“No, you aren’t. I was gone for a year. If anything, I’m the odd one out. I missed out on so many things. But I’m not. You’re not, either.”

The hands on her shoulders moved to encircle her waist, pulling her to Jaemin’s chest as he spoke to her. Her hair was getting the slightest bit messed up from him nuzzling it with his cheek. The two boys in front of her, however, exchanged glances.

Jeno looked at her seriously. “Have you talked to Yoonmi about this? She’d be the one to understand that feeling the most, wouldn’t she?”

“She has her own problems right now. I don’t wanna stress the poor kid out even more.”

“You’re not imposing on anything, you know?” Donghyuck asked her. This brought all her attention towards him. “The hyungs love having you around, and they want to hangout with you. They’re just getting used to it since they’re not as used to you as we are. But they really want you to be comfortable with them.”

“Yuta hyung’s upset that you don’t do Japanese lessons with him anymore,” Jaemin added. This made her feel guiltier.

So they didn’t see her as an outcast? They wanted her around? Now, she’s just been selfish by drawing back and avoiding them to protect her own feelings without even considering the fact that she could be upsetting the others.

“Oh.”

That was all that could come out of her mouth.

“Hey,” Jeno began while resting a comforting hand on her knee, “it’s inevitable for some things to change, alright? That doesn’t mean you’re the odd one out. The hyungs just aren’t sure how to treat you, especially after Taeyong hyung set down a few rules. They love you, though, and they want to be close with you.”

“And if the netizens say I’m trying too hard by being close to the others and ruining their dynamics?”

Jeno scoffed at that. “Let them. They don’t know us, and they don’t know you. They don’t know what goes on in the group. Everyone has something bad to say about everything. About Haechan, Jaemin, me, everyone. Even Jisung, and he’s just a kid. What they think doesn’t matter though, as long as we know what really does, right? Our group’s friendship.”

As much as she wanted to disagree with Jeno and say that they needed to take the public’s thoughts into account as idols, she knew he was right. As people, they had to remember to not think too much about what strangers think. It would be hard, but she knew she had to try.

“Right,” she finally agreed after a moment of silence. The smile on Jeno’s face grew, and Jaemin’s hands tightened around her.

“We are having a fun lunch with the hyungs tomorrow,” Donghyuck hopped up out of his seat and pulled her with him, “then having a dreamie dinner for the first time in a while. For now, though, you’re coming home with me to my dorm, not yours.”

“No more avoiding or over-practicing, alright, Hannah?” Jaemin gently brushed some of the stray strands of her hair out of her face then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek after she nodded. She scrunched her face up in disgust, making them laugh. Donghyuck was leading her out the door, Jaemin hot on their tail until she realized she left her stuff. With an abrupt halt, she turned to grab her bag but was met with Jeno’s cheeky smile.

“I already got your stuff, you goldfish,” he laughed at her. “Looks like the lack of sleep has been affecting your memory.”

“Oh, shut up, Jen.”

#hannah.nct2018 #nct 24th member #nct dream 8th member #nct female member #nct female addition #hannah.yanghan #hannah.2sun #hannah.minnah #hannah.nonah #hannah #lee hannah

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him-e · 3 years

Note

what did you think of shadow and bone? have you read the books? i only read the duology

Thoughts on Shadow and Bone, now that you've probably seen it?

I think the show is alright? It lacks a real wow factor as far as I’m concerned, but it’s enjoyable. It’s especially enjoyable in those parts I didn’t anticipate to like / didn’t even know would be there.

Whereas the main selling points leave a lot to be desired.

The good stuff: the visuals. The aesthetic. The overall concept. Production, casting and costumes are excellent, the setting is fascinating. The worldbuilding isn’t perfect and is sometimes confusing, which is probably due to the show jumping ahead of the books and introducing elements that happen much later in the book saga, but I’m loving the vague steampunk-y vibe of it mixed with more typical fantasy stuff and slavic-inspired lore, the fact that it’s set in dystopian Russia rather than your usual ye olde England.

I find it interesting that in this ‘verse the Grisha are simultaneously superstars, privileged elite, legendary creatures and despised outcasts, according to the context and the type of magic they wield. It’s A Lot, and so far it’s all a bit underdeveloped and messy, like a patchwork of different narratives and tropes sewn together without an organic worldbuilding structure. (there are hints to a past when they were hunted, but how did they go from that to being, essentially, an institutionalized asset to the government isn’t clear yet. There’s huge narrative potential in this, and I hope future seasons will delve into those aspects)

Many of the supporting characters are surprisingly solid. I appreciated that Genya and Zoya eventually sort of traded places, subverting the audience’s assumptions about them and their own character stereotypes, despite the little screentime they were given.

Breakout characters/ships for me were Nina/Matthias, and even more so the Crows, i.e. the stuff I didn’t see coming and knew nothing about (having only read the first book). (I thought the entire Crows subplot was handled in a somewhat convoluted way, at least in the first episodes; it was hard to keep track of who wanted Alina and why, but the Crows’ chemistry is so strong it carried the whole Plot B on its shoulders).

HELNIK. As an enemies to lovers dynamic, Helnik was SUPER on the nose, I’d say bordering on clichéd with the unapologetic, straight outta fanfiction use of classic tropes like “we need to team up to survive” and “there’s only one bed and we’ll freeze to death if we don’t take our conveniently damp clothes off and keep each other warm with the heat of our naked bodies” (not that I’m complaining, but i like to pine for my ships a bit before getting to the juicy tropetown part, tyvm). And then they’re suddenly on opposite sides again because of a tragic misunderstanding - does Bardugo hate high-conflict dynamics? It certainly seems so, because between Helnik and Darklina I’m starting to see a pattern where the slow burn and blossoming mutual trust is rushed and painted in broad, stereotypical strokes to get as fast as possible to the part where they *hate each other again* and that’s... huh. Something.

^That’s probably why I’m almost more interested in Kaz x Inej, because their relationship feels a bit more nuanced, a bit more mysterious, and a bit more unpredictable. (I didn’t bother spoiling myself about them, so I really don’t know where they’re going, but it’s refreshing to see a dynamic that the narrative isn’t scrambling to define in one direction or the other as quickly as possible)

Now, as for Darklina VS Malina... I found exactly what I expected.

Both are ship dynamics I’m, on principle, very much into (light heroine/dark villain, pining friends to lovers) but both are also much less interesting than they claim to be, or could have been with different narrative choices. I’ll concede that the show characters are all more fleshed out and likable than their book counterparts, and the cringe parts I vaguely remembered from the books played out differently. And, well, Ben Barnes dominates the scene, he’s hot as HELL, literally every single second he’s on screen is a fuck you to Bardugo’s attempts to make his character lame and uninteresting and I’m LOVING it, lol.

But yeah, B Barnes aside, Darklina is intrinsically, deliberately made to be unshippable.

It makes me mad, because it’s - archetypally speaking - made of shipping dynamite: yin/yang-sun and moon, opposites attract, COMPLEMENTARY POWERS AND SO ON. And what does Bardugo do with these ingredients? A FUCKING DELIBERATE DISASTER:

^ Placing the kiss so early on (season 1, episode five) effectively kills the romantic tension that was (correctly) building up until that point, and leaves the audience very little to still hope for, in terms of emotional evolution of the dynamic.

Bardugo lays all the good stuff down as early and quickly as possible (the bonding, the conflicted attraction, the recognizing the other as one’s equal, etc) only to turn the tables and pull the rug so y’all sick creepyshippers won’t have anything to look forward to, because THEY’VE ALREADY HOOKED UP AND THAT BELONGS TO THE PAST, IT’S OVER, THEY’RE ENEMIES. This, combined to the fact that she falls for him *without* knowing who he really is, is the opposite of what I want from a heroine/villain ship (it’s basically lovers to enemies, and while that can be valid too, I wanted to see more pining and more prolonged, tormented symbolic attraction to the Shadow/Animus on Alina’s part).

But here’s the trick: it’s not marketed as lovers to enemies - it has all the aesthetics and trappings of an enemies to lovers (the Darkling is, from the get go, villain-presenting, starting from his name), so it genuinely feels like a trollfic, or at the very least a cautionary tale *against* shipping the heroine with the tall dark brooding young villain, and I don’t think it’s cool at all. It makes the story WAY less interesting, because it humanizes the villain early on (when it’s not yet useful or poignant to the story, because it’s unearned) but it’s a red herring. The real plot twist is that the villain shouldn’t be sympathized with, just defeated: there’s a promise of nuanced storytelling, that is quickly denied and tossed aside. So is the idea of incorporating your Shadow (a notion that Bardugo must be familiar with, otherwise she wouldn’t have structured Alina and the Darkling as polar opposites who complement each other, but that she categorically refutes)

Then we have Malina. The good ship.

Look, I’m not that biased against it. I don’t want to be biased on principle against a friends to lovers dynamic that antagonizes a heroine/villain one, because every narrative is different, and for personal reasons I can deeply relate to the idea of being (unspeakably) in love with your best friend. So there are aspects of Malina that I can definitely be into, but it troubles me that in this specific context it’s framed as a regression. It’s Alina’s comfort zone, a fading dream of happiness from an idealized childhood, to sustain which the heroine systematically stunts her growth and literally repressed her own powers, something that in the books made her sickly and weak. But the narrative weirdly romanticizes this codependency, often making her tunnel vision re: going back to Mal her primary goal and centering on him her entire backstory/motivation, to the point that when she starts acting more serious re: her powers and alleged mission to destroy the Fold, it feels inorganic and unearned.

Mal is intrinsically extraneous to Alina’s powers, he doesn’t share them, he doesn’t understand them, he has little to offer to help her with them, and so the feeling is that he’s also extraneous to her heroine’s journey, aside from being a sort of sidekick or safe harbor to eventually come back to. People have compared him to Raoul from Phantom of the Opera, and yeah, he has the same ~magic neutralizer~ vibe, tbh.

The narrative also polarizes Mal’s normalcy and relative “safety” against Aleksander’s sexy evil, framing Alina’s quasi-platonic fixation on the former as a better and purer form of love than her (much more visible and palpable) attraction to the latter. This is exacerbated by the show almost entirely relying on scenes of them as kids to convey their bond. I’m sure there are ways to depict innocent pining for your best friend that don’t involve obsessively focusing on flashbacks of two CHILDREN running in a meadow and looking exactly like brother and sister. LIKE. I get it, they’re like soulmates in every possible way, BUT DO THEY WANT TO KISS EACH OTHER?

Which brings me to a general complain: for a young adult saga centering on a young heroine and full of so many hot people, this story is weirdly unsexy? There are a lot of shippable dynamics, but they’re done in such a careless, ineffective way that makes ZERO EFFORT to work on stuff like slow burn, pining and romantic tension, and when it does it’s so heavy handed that the viewer doesn’t feel encouraged at all to fill the blanks with their imagination and start anticipating things (which is, imo, the ESSENCE of shipping). The one dynamic that got vaguely close to this is, again, Kaz and Inej, and coincidentally it’s also the one we didn’t get confirmed as romantic YET. Other than that, where’s the slow burn? What ship am I supposed to agonize over during the hiatus to season two? Has shipping become something to feel ashamed of, like an embarrassing relative you no longer want to invite in your home?

Anyway, back to Alina/Darkling/Mal, this is how the story reads to me:

girl suspects to be special, carefully pretends to be normal so she can stay with Good Boy

the girl’s powers eventually manifest; she’s forcibly separated from Good Boy

the girl’s powers attract Bad Boy who is her equal and opposite but is also a major asshole

girl initially falls for Bad Boy; has to learn a hard lesson that nobody that sexy will ever want her for who she is, he’s just trying to exploit her

also, no, there is no such thing as a Power Couple

girl is literally given a slave collar by Bad Boy through which he harnesses her power (a parody of the Twin Scars trope)

you know how the story initially suggested that the joint powers of Darkness and Light would defeat evil? LOL NO, Darkness is actually evil itself and the way you destroy evil is using Light to destroy Darkness, forget that whole Jungian bullshit of integrating your shadow, silly!

conclusion: girl realizes being special sucks. She was right all along! Hiding and suppressing her powers was the best choice! She goes back to the start, to the same Good Boy she was meekly pining for prior to the start of the story.

... there’s an uncomfortable overall subtext that reads a lot like a cautionary tale against - look, not just against darkships and villain/heroine pairings, but also *overpowered* heroines and, well... change? Growth?

Like, it’s certainly a Choice that Alina starts the story *already* in love with Mal. That she always knew it was him. The realization could have happened later (making the dynamic much more shippable, too), but no.

#anon #asks #*#sab for ts #long post #darklina for ts #malina for ts #sorry it took me a while but i wanted to see the whole season first

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physicalturian · 3 years

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[G] A promise of hope - Gojo Satoru X GN!Reader

Request from @waywarduniversityshepherdturtle “Hi can i request for a jealous Gojo Satoru where out white haired guys is *kinda* intimidated with his s/o's good looking ex? Can start with an angst and end with a fluff ❤“

[No pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [No spoilers from the anime or the manga]

Words: 2817 Warning: Angst, fluff, mention of death (thought he died)

It all happened because of one small thing, one joke. But it was the joke too many. I was trying to have a proper, serious discussion and he had to take it light-heartedly. He had to fool around, I loved him deeply but now was not the time. I was worried for him. Yes, he was strong, one of the strongest if not the strongest, but I could not help but get antsy, waiting for him to come back to the apartment we shared. We had promised each other to always come back, it was a stupid agreement to come to considering our line of work, but it helped us, or at least it helped me get some sort of reassurance.

Except he did not come home last night, I was left waiting alone in the apartment, anguish eating me up as I sat in the couch. From there I had a good view of the door, and I could see him if he entered, bloody, beaten or just tired. Most of the time, it was just tired, and I was glad for that, and on rare occasion there were a few scratches covering his clothes and skin. We would treat them, then go to bed.

But tonight, was not like that, I waited and waited. The clock ticking nearby reminding me of the silence that was wrapped around me, the lack of presence in my home. The lack of partner being loud and obnoxious. I just waited. Time was running by, but not quickly enough, it was painfully slow and my heartbeat was going as fast as the awful thoughts in my mind. Maybe the curse was too strong? Maybe he was working with someone and they turned on him? Maybe he was… maybe he was dead.

Those thoughts plagued my mind and never left as stress coursed through my body. I was tempted to call him, but I knew it would be too risky to call during a mission. My hands clasped on my knees did not stay there long, I kept moving, shifting on the spot, hands dry and cold. My stomach churning. I could not get any ounce of sleep that night, I simply waited, and waited some more. He never came home.

At some point during that restless night, I fell asleep. When I heard a sudden noise in the house, I was startled awake and was ready to use my power when I saw the grinning face of my partner who stood by the fridge. The door of the latter was open as he looked at me over his shoulder. Slowly, I let my arms fall to my side and felt all the tension leave my body before shuffling towards him. I did not know what to say, maybe I was overexaggerating, maybe… but I dreaded his death, and here he was, fresh as a daisy. “Heya, I didn’t want to wake you up, you seemed sound-“ “No. Don’t.” I interrupted him as I gripped his hand and made him let go of the fridge door.

I then closed it and stood by him; I do not know what I was feeling. Enraged? Relieved? Seething… Exhausted, sad… “What? Are you okay-“ “I’m not! I’m not okay, I thought- I thought you had fucking died Satoru!” He chuckled in response. He waved a hand in front of me, dismissively, while smiling. “I can’t die that easily, come on, who do you think I am? Ye of little faith-“ “You did not come home…” I breathed out. I was surprised by how weak my voice sounded as I looked at the floor, I wanted to sleep. But I was very awake, so many emotions were mixing up inside me. “Itadori let me stay at his place, I was too tired.” He explained, adding that I was overreacting.

“Am I? Am I really? … Maybe I am… but, you know you- we-“ I gulped and shook my head. “That promise of coming home, I’m holding onto that every night, because you promised you’ll come home…” He laughed, he placed a hand on my head and laughed. “Come on, it’s just a silly little thing-“ “It’s not though, I care about that a lot, so when you did not come back, I panicked.” I explained a bit heartbroken. I thought we both needed that promise, I thought it helped us both but maybe it was only to indulge me.

Cradling my face in his hands, he looked at me without ever taking off his glasses, “You got a little worried for me? How cute, look at you all-“ I slapped his hands and turned away, feeling some sort of humiliation from how he was treating me. “Satoru? Fuck you, I’m asking you to be serious for two fucking minutes and you’re being an asshole. I thought you were dead; can you get that through your thick skull? Can you at least try to understand what I’m feeling or is it too much to ask?” I had no control over the anger, the frustration, seeping through my words. I was tired.

Taking a deep breath, I exhaled in a calming manner, hoping it’d help. Once I calmed at least a little bit, I placed a hand on his cheek. “Forget it, you’re home, right? That’s what matters, right? So how about you get some rest, and I’ll go see a friend.” I tried to force a gentle smile on my face, but deep down I felt a need to let it all out. He reached out for me, but I shook my head, taking his hand a few seconds before letting go. He said he could get changed and he could come along, but I refused, telling him I just wanted to spend some time with my friend.

After getting dressed, I left the apartment in a rush and called my old friend that also happened to be my ex-boyfriend. He picked up quite fast and greeted me energetically, I tried to match his eagerness but he noticed how off it sounded and asked me what was going on. “I… I need some advice, someone to talk to- It’s okay if you’re busy though- you know what, forget it-“ “No, no, I’m just jogging in the park, let’s meet up there? How long will you take?” He asked softly, I heard the microphone rub against his shirt as he ran and it was slightly unpleasant but I couldn’t say anything, at least he picked up.

“Give me ten minutes, and I’ll be there. The usual spot?” I asked, he agreed and said we’d see each other soon, before hanging up. I arrived right on time at our usual spot, being a picnic table under a big tree by the pond in the park in which we met a few years back. I don’t regret our relationship, but we only dated because we thought that’s what was going on between us, love, except we were better off as friends.

Once I arrived, I could see him sitting on the table, not the bench around it, as he chugged his large bottle of water. He was very sweaty and no amount of slight breeze could freshen up his looks, and yet he was still pretty handsome like that. I suppose I had taste. Even though I did not feel anything for him anymore, I could observe a painting and see he had charms, that did not change. “Hi gorgeous beast.” He said as he tried to pull me into a hug, but I pulled back telling him he stank. He chuckled and patted the spot next to him, “It’s the smell of hard work, you wouldn’t know.” I would usually laugh, but right now I was not in the best mood, and he noticed.

He did not waste time and asked me right away what was going on, I was taken aback but told him, vaguely what was going on. I did not say my boyfriend was a sorcerer, nor did I tell him about curses but I mentioned we were in a dangerous line of work both of us and everything else he needed to know. “… And he always jokes around, most of the time I love it but today, I was just… I genuinely thought he had died, and he did not realize that and kept treating it light-heartedly.” I sighed.

My friend hummed pensively before speaking, “I think he’s masking his own worry with jokes, and tried to make you feel better by doing it to you too? Like, you know, like, maybe if he made it seem like he was perfectly fine, you’ll feel better? I don’t know the man, but I don’t think he meant wrong- he’s just lacking some social cues clearly.” He explained with a light tone as he drank some more. “You’re right… I just, I just wished he had sent me a text, or at least hugged me when he got home, perhaps apologize… but that one is stupid because he did not do anything wrong, I don’t know what I want…”

Huffing a laugh, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and brought me in a side hug. “Tell him that, I’ll give you a hug, if you want you can cry too, I’m already very moist anyway so, tears aren’t going to change much.” I hit his chest playfully when he said that and draped one arm over his back as I thought. “Yeah… you’re right… I miss him, I really want hold him right now, to feel him, know he’s alright, you know?-“ “Alright there, that’s a bit too much here, touch him if you will but please don’t tell me about it.” He said jokingly as he let go of me before standing up. “But now, for real, tell him that. I’m sure he’ll understand, he plays stupid but he ain’t dumb.” “Right, right… yeah. Thank you so much for indulging in my little twists and sob stories.”

“Hey, anytime. I’m always there for you, alright? Come on, take care, see you around!” He said as we bumped our fists, before jogging off.

After that, I went back home. When I walked up the stairs, I could hear heavy footsteps inside the apartment and slowly opened the door, careful not the make noise. What greeted me was no burglar, but it actually was my boyfriend who seemed to be pacing in the living room. I knew I could not catch him off guard, so when I dropped my keys in the bowl by the entrance, he turned towards me and rushed to my side. “Are you going to leave me? He’s hot, sure- but I can do better, I swear I didn’t mean-“ “Wait wait wait, what are you on about?” I cut him off in his ramble in a confused expression.

“The man you were with-“ “You followed me? Satoru… Privacy, just privacy, I’m asking for a tiny bit of that…” He shook his head and gripped my biceps hard, “You were with another guy! Is it because of something I did? Do you want me to be more muscular? He’s hot, yeah, but is he as strong as me-“ I cut him off once more but gripping his jaw, not too tightly, but enough to purse his lips. “You’re jumping to conclusions. Do you think so low of me? To cheat on you?” “No- no cheating, like not yet but I would understand because he’s kind of looking like a Greek god-“ I sighed and let go of him, asking him to stop talking for one second.

And surprisingly, he did. I took that opportunity to measure my words, before speaking carefully. “Don’t stalk me, and don’t assume shit about me, that’s the first thing.” I waited for him to nod, then continued, “He’s my ex-“ “You’re going back with your ex?! For one joke- come on, that’s-“ “I’m not cheating on you, what the fuck? Why do you think so low of me? What do I look like to you? Wait, you know what?” I hit his chest, not too hard but enough to let some anger out, then once more, and again, and again until I couldn’t feel the need to do it anymore. “That one fucking joke, I hated it! You’re strong asshole, sure, sure, ok. But anything could happen out there! And you did not come back, okay?” I let out a shaky breath, making Satoru a bit confused as he took off his glasses and looked at me, lost.

“You might not care about that promise, but it helps me a lot… and until last night, you kept it… and in my head, the only image I could think of, was your motionless body, somewhere….” I let go of his shirt and moved away from him to sit on the floor, my back sliding against the wall. “And you laughed it off… It felt humiliating, and then, you think I’m cheating on you? No, I asked my ex, my best friend, what I should do, because I was hurt… and he just gave me good advice… As a friend.” I reiterated that part, to make sure my boyfriend understood who the man I hung out with, was.

For once, the famous Gojo Satoru was speechless and he slowly knelt down by my side. His expression had no cockiness, no pride, no joy, just pain, understanding and sorry. “I did that… I didn’t mean to, I just feel like, I have to… I wanted to make you smile, I didn’t know how, so I thought you’d laugh a bit then kiss me, I didn’t realize you were that worried… I fucked up…” He was not a man known for his great words, he also had a hard time apologizing but I could feel he was feeling bad about it, but so was I and while he was sorry, my chest still ached. “I’m sorry babe… I really hold onto that promise too, I just… I don’t know why I said that, I want to come home to you as much as I want you to come home to me safely.” He whispered as he took hold of my hand.

Sighing I looked at our intertwined hands and tightened my grasp on his hand, his slender fingers brushing the back of my hand. “You’re strong, I know that but I can’t help it Sato… And I really want to know you’re safe-“ “How can I make you understand that I’m fine? I’m peachy, I swear, want to see my hot body-“ When he started to lift his shirt, I interrupted him, “Hug me. Just hug me, please.” My words struck confusion in him. He stared at me as he let go of the hem of his shirt, then slowly let go of my hand before bringing me close to his chest and laying down on the floor with me, not letting me go.

It was a tight hug, not bone-crushing but perfectly tight. Warm, reassuring, loving…. I heard him whisper gentle words to my ears and brush his hands over my back as I enjoyed the moment. The ache in my chest was slowly dissipating, letting the heartwarming feeling of comfort take most of the space in it. But there was still one thing left to discuss.

Clearing my throat, I heard my boyfriend hum curiously. “Did you really think I’d cheat on you just because he was hot?” I asked, dumbfounded. The white-haired man chuckled nervously and looked to the side, “I mean, to be fair, he’s like super hot, so you’d be in the right-“ I hit his chest, “Never! I would never cheat on you, plus you’re so much hotter, if that’s what you were worried about.” It was one of the rare times I could see a blush on his cheeks as he looked down at me, the angle making his chin look funny. But the blush quickly disappeared, “I know I am, I’m Gojo Satoru- I could probably beat him at his jog, I have a lot of stamina- and you know about that, I know how much you like what I do with my hand when you-“ “Hey, hey, it’s a cute moment, don’t ruin it. Yes, you’re cute, you’d beat him of course, hugs now.”

He laughed and held me tight as his head hit the ground with a thud. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, I love you too much to go through that again…” I mumbled shyly against his chest. He placed a hand on the back of my head in response and kissed it gently, “I’ll try, I promise.”

Those promises were not worth much in our line of work, but they kept me hoping and hope is what makes us live, hopefully it’ll be a long life.

#gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x gn reader #gojo satoru x gn reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo

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merryhelps · 3 years

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plotting etiquette : a players guide

[ coming soon / an admins guide ]

plotting is an essential part to writing together; whether you’re in a group, an indie blog or even a 1x1, you need to be able to communicate with your peers in order to build a story. and that’s why we’re all here, right? to create worlds, no matter what the context, and most importantly, to do this with others. roleplaying is a team effort - no matter what universe you’re writing in. below the cut are some helpful tips, tricks and advice to remember when attempting to plot with others. if you’ve found this guide useful, please like and/or reblog to spread the word - and hopefully help out others along the way. ***a part two will be out next week for admins on how to promote and help your group with plotting.

i. ‘i’m scared of bothering people!’

this is a statement i’ve seen the most often around the rpc - whether it’s from a various text post people reblog, or as an admin who’s been on the receiving end of messages like this.

it’s important to remember that most of us get a little nervous about reaching out. while writing original pieces or fanfiction can give you some distance between the creating portion and the feedback process, there’s no real space for roleplaying. it’s an instantaneous thing - we put our words out there on the screen, and someone else has to reply to that in some capacity.

whether you’re an extrovert, an introvert or something in between, this can often be the beginning of the end for a lot of roleplayers. maybe you’ve joined an established group, and it seems like everyone has set dynamics and you don’t want to shake things up. or maybe you’re an indie blog, but you’re too scared to talk to someone you’ve idolized and want to write with.

the thing is, you can’t expect people to know what you want if you can’t verbalize it yourself. let them know you’re a little nervous ! chances are, they are too. we’re all on this platform trying to do the same thing, and everyone gets nervous about exposing themselves to strangers now and again. ultimately, we put a little piece of ourselves in every character we create, and that can be terrifying to show to people and expect them to accept. but a little effort goes a long way - making the first move can often help build a bridge to someone you might not have otherwise gotten the chance to write with. you’re going to have to take a risk sometimes. while not everyone is going to be receptive, most people will be. and chances are, if you start with something as simple as “hi, i’d love the chance to write / plot with you,” you’ll be met with an extraordinarily excited new partner. understand that if they don’t, it’s not a bad thing ! some writing styles don’t mesh together, some people have a harder time talking freely than others, and so many of us regularly forget to reply to a message. know that if you’ve put yourself out there, that’s a huge step in the right direction, no matter what comes of it, and next time it’ll be even easier.

ii. come prepared.

this is ultimately where a lot of players fall short. it’s one thing to say ‘let’s plot’, and another thing to do it altogether. you need to have some sort of jumping off point.

some ideas include:

a prompt / plot idea.

this is especially important if it’s a new person you’re trying to interact with. it’s difficult to come up with things on the spot, and if you’re reaching out, you need to have something to reach out with.

in a group you’ll want to take the time to read their biography / about / wanted connections if they have them listed. it’s a quick way to ensure you have a basis of what they want, and how you and your characters can then fill those needs.

as an indie / 1x1 see if they have any ‘wanted plots’ or ‘prompts’ tags. check out their ask memes tags. ensure you’ve read their guidelines on both of these, and follow them. while most people have similar rules, you can’t know that for sure unless you’ve read through them.

questions about their character(s).

everyone adores talking about their own characters - give them an opportunity to let them tell you about theirs! even if they’re playing a canon character, they’ll have their own take on them, with headcanons and quirks and hobbies that might not show up in the specific canon the character comes from.

use ask memes if you need help coming up with questions - ask memes are extraordinarily helpful when it comes to fleshing out muses for developmental purposes as it is, and while they’re usually made for general tumblr interaction, they can be a great jumping off point for talking specifics.

don’t be afraid to point out things in their bio / about / etc. this shows that you’ve gone through and read their pages, which shows that you care about them as a person and a character, and not merely another faceclaim.

talk about your character(s).

it’s always good, especially in a group, to have a small statement of facts about your character. in business, this is called an ‘elevator pitch’ - a few concise sentences that can get someone else interested.

for example, merrick wood is a former cheerleader who would do absolutely anything for her sister, holly, has no real ambitions and loves the weird and supernatural. you can find her swimming, or listening to mix cd’s she makes for her own amusement, or even on the hunt for big foot. this now gives the other player a few things to pick through - what kind of music is she listening to? why is her sister so important to her? is cheerleading still important enough for her to mention it to someone?

iii. plotting is a two way street.

the above two points work on the basis that you’ve made the first move - but say you’re the one who’s gotten the message of someone eager to plot with you ! takes a little stress off of your plate, but adds to their own. no matter what, remember that there is a real person on the other side of the screen. be kind, and treat them how you’d want to be treated - even if you’re not interested in writing with them, let them know ! a simple thanks for the message! i’m honored you’re interested in my characters, but at the moment i don’t think we’d be a good fit is enough of a response that most people should leave it at that. if you get a message saying they’re not interested, simply say ‘thank you for replying!’ and move on. as stated above, not everyone will always click - respect people’s boundaries, and understand that you’ll find a new partner in due time.

responding to plotting messages is as important as creating them; if someone says they want to plot and gives you ideas, play off of them. don’t simply say ‘okay!’ or ‘cool!’ - a habit a lot of people have had over the years.

example. if jenny says “i think it would be great if robert could surprise them with flowers,” reply wth “oh how cute!!!” and end there - expand on it, adding your own input - “that’s so cute! denise adores lilacs, and would be flustered to get them from someone she admires so much!” the latter sentence gives your partner something to respond to, something to work with, and may just end up being in the thread you write together!

iv. don’t make your admins do all the work.

this section is primarily for group roleplayers.

your admin(s) already do so much. behind the scenes, there’s constantly updating the main pages, queueing ads, coming up with tasks and events and plot drops to keep players entertained and happy. at the same time, they’re trying to play in the group with you - create their own stories, write their own characters. they should not have to spoon feed you plots. these are things you need to develop on your own and with fellow players.

example. in a town rp, and you have a social butterfly character ? throw a birthday party for a character, giving the other characters something to participate in without an official Admin Sponsored Event. you should of course ensure the admin is okay with you having ‘events’ like the above for various players, and you need to ensure you’re inclusive in them - don’t ‘throw a party’ and not invite half the group because you don’t want to plot with them. take the time to message players of characters who might not normally show up and figure out something else with them, or a reason why they would be there or even why they wouldn’t!

v. stop bubbling.

at the end of the day, plotting together is the best way to stop bubbling from happening in your group. no one wants to be the player left out of everything - make sure to try and reach out to the others, especially if you think other players may be ignoring them. writing together - in a group, on an indie, anywhere really - is supposed to be fun and challenging and a different experience every time. before you go to your admins about being left out / ignored, ask yourself if you’ve done the above. have you messaged other players ? asked them about their characters, and given ideas of potential prompts for the two of you to write ? if you have, and you’re still getting ignored, then absolutely talk to your admin team! but try and be proactive instead of reactive and you’d be amazed at how far you can go.

hopefully this guide will help you - remember, your roleplay experience is ultimately cultivated by yourself. you choose which groups to apply to, which characters to bring, and your attitudes and behaviors can affect your gameplay. being in a group, specifically, is about being a part of a team. become a team player, and you and your characters can find the roleplay family of your dreams ♡

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noladyme · 3 years

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La Cuervo - Epilogue

We’ve come to the end of the story of Angel and Nina. Thank you to everyone who commented, reblogged and liked. Every one of you inspired me to keep writing. Thank you for reading.

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on, on Mayans M.C., are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambiguous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

Epilogue.

It was an especially cloudy day for a bike-ride. He looked up at the sky, and prayed to his mother it wouldn’t rain. It was already too cold for short sleeves, and he regretted not having listened when he’d been told to put on a hoodie under his cut that morning. The precious cargo behind him shifted in her seat. The bump pressed against his back was restless as well, he felt; from the tiny kicks he was receiving to his kidneys. “You alright?”, Angel called over his shoulder. “Yeah… she’s just antsy…”, Nina replied. “We’re almost there”, he smiled. “Good. I gotta pee”. “Shit. Again?”. “Blame your daughter”, she chuckled. “Be nice to your mama, chiquita!”, Angel chuckled, addressing the cantaloupe-sized treasure in his amor’s belly.

Charming was a nice place. He could understand why Nina loved it there, but the stares their caravan was getting made him uncomfortable. The people in the small town looked at him and his brother’s as if they were gods – which in and of itself he didn’t mind – but it was a lot different than what he was used to from Santo Padre, where the Mayans were accepted and even feared; but not looked to as saviors and protectors, as the Sons of Anarchy were in Charming. His discomfort came from realizing that he’d like to be viewed as the Sons were here, back home. Becoming a Mayan had originally been about the pussy and the bikes; but lately, he felt the need to make a difference to the people in his community. Help the people who needed it; like the undocumented immigrants and the people trying to cross the border for a better life. Nina was doing what she could for those the club had gotten over so far, but it was still something they needed to keep quiet about – especially if he wanted to avoid seeing his daughter grow up from behind a plexiglass window.

They drove up to what looked like a warehouse-building; but he knew was the home of CaraCara. Pulling up next to EZ’s bike, he smiled as his brother gave Nina a hand to get off his own. “Centre of gravity seems a bit off, hermanita”, EZ chuckled. “Screw you… And move! I gotta pee…”, she sneered, and sprang for the nearest door of the warehouse. The brand-new Mayan patch moved up and down on EZ’s back, as he laughed; watching her run. Angel smiled at the sight, before patting his brother’s shoulder. “My kids got some kick”, he said. “Reina del baile, huh?”, EZ smiled. “You’re gonna have to keep an eye on her when she’s older”. “She ain’t going out dancing until she’s as old as pap’”, Angel declared. “Yo! Are you two gonna keep staring at the pregnant lady run; or are you gonna come inside?”, Bishop called after them. The two of them grinned, and followed their patch-brothers inside the large building.

They were greeted by Chibs, Happy and Tig; the latter having to tear himself away from a strikingly tall woman, to come welcome them. The woman stayed by the bar in the large room, talking quietly with a pretty blonde woman behind it. Once the initial back and forth between the presidents were over, Chibs turned to Angel, and pulled him in for a friendly half-hug. “Did you forget someone in San Pad?”, the SAMCRO president asked. “Nah, man. She’s going to the bathroom every 45 minutes”, Angel chuckled. “Filip!”, Nina called out from behind them, and Angel turned around to watch her make a waddling run over to her Charming brothers. Once they’d all embraced, Happy looked down at Nina’s belly. “You did this?”, he asked Angel. “So she tells me”, Angel grinned. Nina punched his shoulder, making him have to take a few steps back. Getting knocked up had oddly enough made her even stronger than usual. “You knew I was pregnant”, she said. “Yeah, but…”. Chibs blew out a deep breath. “You’re huge, luv’!”. “I’m not that big…”, Nina whimpered. Angel walked up behind her, and kissed her temple. “You’re beautiful, mami”, he smiled, before looking to the Sons. “You told me to get her to quit smoking”, he grinned, and rubbed his hand protectively over Nina’s bump. “Yeah, but it seems like you took an alternative approach to that, man”, Tig chuckled.

Nina was shifting on her feet. “You gotta pee again?”, Angel asked. “No… Just gotta sit down. My feet are killing me”. He led her over to sit on the couch that looked the least like it had been used as a prop, in one of the movies produced by CaraCara. The tall woman and the blonde came over to greet Nina, and the three of them hugged each other tightly; with both of the other women stroking Nina’s belly, and cooing at it. “I’m Venus”, the tall woman said, and reached out her hand to him. “And I’m guessing you’re Angel… That’s a lovely name”. “Stop flirting with my old man”, Nina grinned. “You got your own!”. “I sure do!”, Venus said, and held out her hand; proudly displaying an engagement ring. “Oh my god!”, Nina exclaimed. “Congrats!”. She hugged Venus tightly again. “I’m Lyla”, the blonde said, and smiled at Angel. “Nice to meet you”, he replied.

Angel let the three women catch up, and walked over to talk to the other men. “The estrogen-level is through the roof in here!”, Creeper grinned. “That’s just the smell of cheap perfume and artificial sperm”, Chibs said. “Artificial?”, Gilly said. “You’d be surprised how many porn-actors find it hard to produce actual cum, after 13 takes; no matter how hot the actress”, Happy laughed. “I don’t think I’d find it that hard”, Coco smirked. The door opened, and a sea of beautiful women entered the warehouse. “Feel free to give it a shot”, Tig said to the wide-eyed Mayan.

“I thought this was supposed to be a business-meeting. Not a party”, Taza said. “Who says we can’t mix the two?”, Chibs said. “But you’re right. We should get to it”. Tig turned towards the three women on the couch. “Muffin, it’s time!”, he called out. Nina frowned, but let herself be pulled to her feet by the two others. Angel sprang over to take her arm. “Are you ok, cuervo?”, he muttered. “Yeah. Let’s just get this over with”, Nina sighed.

---

“Thanks for coming all the way up here”, Chibs said from the head of the table, in the smaller room, connected to the studio. “Thank you for agreeing not to do it at your clubhouse”, Bishop said. “This one’s getting too heavy to get up the stairs behind the ice-cream shop”. He nodded towards Nina. “Go fuck yourself, Bish’”, she grunted from next to Angel. Bishop sent her a warm smile, before meeting Angel’s eyes. They both knew he wasn’t wrong. Nina had trouble even getting out of bed at this point; which Angel didn’t mind. Pregnancy sex had been even hotter than he’d imagined. “Nina’s twelve months are over. We think it’s time to discuss what happens from here on out”, Chibs said. Angel shifted in his seat, and cleared his throat. “I think it’s obvious what’s gonna happen”, he said. “She’s staying in San Pad”. He put his hand on Nina’s bump, and stroked it. “Charming is her home”, Happy said. “She’s still SAMCRO family”. “She’s Mayan family too… And she’s got my family growing in her”, Angel growled. “We need niña down south”, Coco said. “She’s the only one of the girls back home who knows how to make a proper whiskey-sour”, Riz shrugged. “What about her life here? Her friends, her job at the shop?”, Tig said.

“What about we ask Nina what she wants?”, Nina exclaimed with a huff. “I’m not property…”. Chibs and Bishop looked solemnly at each other for a long moment, before both of them broke into large grins. “We’re just fucking with you, mija!”, Bishop said. All the Mayans and Sons broke out in laughter, and Angel had to chew his lips to stop. “We didn’t come up here to talk about you coming back, ma’”, he said. Nina scowled deeply at him; giving him that cute look that made him both cringe from the promise of being chewed out later on, and simultaneously made him want to rip off her clothes, and screw her brains out. Nina was hot when she was angry. “Then, why?”, she growled.

Angel turned in his seat, and helped Nina turn in hers; with a firm hold of her hips. “I can’t marry you, without permission from your brothers… All of them”, he said. Nina’s eyes widened. “You… what?”. “You got my kid in there. And I love you”, Angel said, and laid a hand on her belly. “I wanna marry you… If you’re good with that”. Nina seemed – for once – speechless. His heart jumped up into his throat. “Nina? Mami, talk to me…”. “I’m… yeah. Uh huh… We can do that”, she squeaked. Angel let out a sigh of relief. “Thank fuck… You had me worried”, he smiled. He saw a tear at the corner of Nina’s eye, and wiped it away quickly.

He put his hand to the back of her head, and pulled her in for a kiss; when someone cleared their throat. “We haven’t agreed yet”, Tig said. “He needs all of our go-aheads”, Hank said. “All of your brothers; remember?”. “We gotta vote on this shit”, EZ smirked. For a short moment, Angel considered smacking his brother across the head, but he decided against it. He needed a unanimous yes, and EZ was actually one of the few patches he was concerned about voting against him. “Then let’s do it”, he said. Chibs raised a brow at him. “You; get out”, he said. “What?”. “Salir de la habitación, amigo”, the SAMCRO president reiterated. Nina shot him a death-glare, and squeezed Angel’s hand. “You said your peace; now let the rest of us decide if we’re gonna agree to this unholy union”. Angel got to his feet and was about to help Nina up. “Not you, sweetheart”, Taza said. “We need your take on this as well”. Angel swallowed thickly, and looked at Nina. She gave him a warm smile, which didn’t reach her eyes, and he had to force his feet to move, to leave the room.

Once outside, Angel closed the door behind him. The large studio space had filled up with hangarounds – male and female – and pornstars he recognized from movies he’d watched in the past. The one’s he’d enjoy these days weren’t CaraCara productions, because Nina didn’t like watching people she knew as friends having sex. Instead, they’d watch the mini-productions they made themselves. Lyla came over to him with a cold beer, and patted his shoulder. “The party’s gonna be pretty PG for now. Wendy’s coming in with the boys for a few hours”, she said. “After that, I can’t promise there won’t be full frontal nudity”. Angel chuckled. “I didn’t know her nephews were coming”, he said. “It was a surprise. They haven’t been back in Charming since…”. Lyla cut herself off, and seemed to be suppressing a bad memory. “Nina’s brother… Jackson. He was a good guy, huh?”. “The best… And he loved her”, Lyla said. “If it wasn’t for the fact that they didn’t look alike, you’d never guess they weren’t blood-related”. “They were alike?”. “Uh huh”, Lyla nodded fervently. “Like two peas in a pod. And she was as protective of him as he was of her”.

A dirty-blonde woman came in to the warehouse, with two boys in tow. The youngest had dark hair, while his brother was blonde. The blonde boy – in his pre-teens – ran over to Venus, and sprang into her arms; clearly enjoying resting his head against her ample breasts. The brown-haired boy – about 7 or 8 years old – clung to who Angel figured was Wendy. She shot Venus a smile, and walked over to Lyla. “This him, then?”, Wendy asked, and gave Angel a once over. “Yup”, Lyla said. “Angel, this is Wendy; and the cutie-pie down here…”. She crouched down, and ruffled the boy’s hair. “This is Thomas. Jackson’s youngest”. “Casanova over there is Abel”, Wendy grinned. Abel stood as wide-eyed as Coco had, at the sight of the beautiful women surrounding him. “And I’m Wendy”. “Good to meet you”, Angel said. He stuck out his hand to Thomas. “Hey, man. I’m Angel”. “Are you the one who knocked up my aunt Nina?”, Thomas asked. Angel was taken aback at the kid’s bluntness. “I… Yeah”, he said. Thomas narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you gonna marry her? My dad married my other mom after I was born. You’re supposed to marry someone if you get them pregnant”. “I’m planning to”, Angel said. “If you’ll let me”. “I’ll think about it”, Thomas said.

Both Wendy and Lyla laughed, and then gave each other a warm hug. “If you wanna surprise her, you should probably go into my office”, Lyla said. “She’ll be out in a few”. Abel looked at the people in the room. “I wanna stay out here”, he declared; as fascinated as his brother was at all the women. “You’re just like your dad”, Wendy sighed. “Go on, Tommy. I got movies in there for you”, Lyla said, before looking at Wendy. “Disney”, she added. Wendy smiled, and dragged Thomas away. She nabbed Abel out of the lap of a scantily clad brunette; and the three of them went into a back office, in the corner of the building.

Angel looked at the door to where the meeting regarding the future of his family was being held behind, and felt his nerves starting to get to him. They’d taken too long already; the vote shouldn’t be that difficult. He took out his pack of smokes, and was about to light up, when Lyla put a hand on his lower arm. “Please go outside for that. I’m trying to keep the studio smoke-free”. “Yeah, sure… Sorry”, Angel muttered, and hurried towards the exit.

Once outside he began pacing back and forth. One cigarette turned in to two, which then turned in to three; and still no one had come to tell him what the decision of the clubs was. He was about to say fuck it, and stomped out his smoke, to walk back inside, and demand an answer; when Nina came outside. She walked over to him with a solemn expression on her face; and in that moment, Angel’s heart broke. “I’m sorry…”, she said. Angel felt rage building in him. Here was his endgame – the one woman he would ever be able to fully give himself to, and the mother of his child – and he couldn’t have her, because of a bunch of fucking bikers. He grabbed Nina’s hand, and tried pulling her towards his bike. “Fuck this shit. We’re out of here. We’ll go north… Like Canada, or something. I’ll marry you there… I ain’t letting them…”. Nina stayed in place, unmoving. “No, Angel… I’m sorry… I know your pap’ would expect me to; but I can’t wear white… It wouldn’t feel right”.

Angel’s jaw dropped, and he looked at Nina with wide eyes. “They said yes?”, he croaked. “Yes…”, Nina said below her breath. “I mean, Happy wanted our first-born as payment; but I told him to shove it”. Angel cupped her face, and stared deep into her eyes, looking for any sign of deceit; finding none. “We’re gonna get married?”, he said. Nina nodded. “We’re gonna get married, mami!”. he threw his arms around her waist, and lifted her up, spinning her around. “Careful!”, Nina giggled. He set her back on the ground, and pulled her in for a deep kiss; feeling like life itself came from the taste of her mouth. “I love you, cuervo”. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Te amo, so… fucking… much!”, he said, leaving kisses on Nina’s lips between each word. “I love you too”, she smiled.

Angel remembered something, and grabbed for the item in his pocket, he’d been keeping there, since his pap’ had given it to him a few days earlier. “Here”, he said, and held out the ring. “This was my mam’s”. Nina took the ring from him, and smiled. “Thank you…”, she said. She held it to her finger, before looking up at him. “Wait, did you wanna…? Or should I just…?”. Angel took her hand in his, and together, they put the ring on her left ring-finger. He pressed another deep kiss to her lips, and then got on his knees; putting his hands on either side of her belly. “I love you, chiquita. You’re the best thing to happen to me since your mama”. He kissed Nina’s tummy, just above her navel, and turned his ear against it, listening to the other love of his life moving around in there.

“Are you two finished?”, Chibs called from the doorway. “Someone’s come to see you, little sister”. Nina frowned in confusion, and Angel smiled brightly; getting to his feet again. He led her in front of her, with his hands on her hips. “Try not to give birth right this moment, mama”, he whispered in her ear, when Lyla opened the door to the office, and Abel and Thomas came out. “Oh… Oh, my god!”, Nina cried out, and ran as fast as she could over to her two nephews. She kissed both of their foreheads, and each boy wiped off the kisses in childish disgust, while she hugged them. “You’re so big!”, Nina croaked, before turning to Wendy, and hugging her. Angel looked on with a full heart, as both of the boys took turns touching her belly.

EZ came up next to him, and patted his back. “Congratulations, Angel”, he said. Angel turned, and gave his brother a warm hug. “Thanks, man…”, he said.

---

A little while later, Angel was seated next to his fiancée on the couch. Someone had produced a box of old photographs of club-parties through the ages. Nina was groaning in embarrassment, as Chibs held out a picture of herself and him, where the Son was holding up his fingers in a cross at Nina, who was sporting a large pimple on her forehead. “The Creature of the Black Lagoon!”, Chibs laughed. “Funny…”, Nina smiled sarcastically, and ripped the photo out of his hands. Angel snatched it from her, and put it in his cut pocket. “I’m keeping this, cuervo”. “Why?”, she frowned. “Blackmail… Maybe you’ll stop trying to cook for me”. “Kiss my ass”, she retorted. “Gladly”, Angel said, and kissed her temple.

Nina picked up an envelope full of pictures, and pulled them out, to look through them. “What’s this?”, she said. Angel grabbed the pile of photographs. A grin spread on his face. The telltale patch of the Mayan mask sprang into his eyes, on the back of a biker; who’d turned his face towards the camera. It was Bishop; who was sporting a shorter beard, but a no less intimidating mustache. “Wow, this was years ago…”, he chuckled. “San Bernardino, right?”, he asked Chibs. “Yeah”, the president nodded. Nina studied the pictures, as Angel flipped them. “What’re the Mayans doing there? Weren’t you rivals?”. Looking at the date in the bottom corner of the picture, Angel shook his head. “Nah. This was just after we became allies. I think this was one of my first parties as a prospect. It was like a club-mixer thing, with a couple of charters from each side, meeting up, and getting wasted in the name of peace…”

He flicked through some more pictures, before reaching one with a tall bearded man in a beanie; a goofy looking biker with a mohawk; and a chubby man, with unruly, curly hair. Angel noticed Nina’s face light up in something resembling recognition. “SAMCRO?”, Angel asked. Nina nodded. “Opie, Juice and Bobby”, she said, smiling softly. “You said you were there?”. “Yeah… I think so”. Angel flicked through some more photographs, and pulled a picture out from near the bottom of the pile. He laughed out loud. “Shit, yeah… Look at that dumbass prospect staring at the camera. He don’t know shit yet…”.

A younger version of himself – though not by many years – was pictured with a tray of shots in hand, looking drunk and smiling goofily, while getting ready to serve a group of Mayans and Sons, who were seated at a table, in the middle of a poker-game. Angel looked happy just to be there, and the prospect flash on his chest looked brand new. “Fuck, man… Look at that hair…!”, he chuckled. He looked at Nina again, expecting her to laugh along with him; but saw that her eyes were full of tears. She was staring at a blonde man; who was seated by the table, shooting the camera a relaxed grin, and reaching for one of the glasses on Angel’s tray. “What’s wrong? My hair don’t look that stupid", Angel said, letting Nina take the photograph from his hands. “Mami? Do you know this guy?”. Angel looked down at the picture with wide eyes. “I remember him… Some big deal in SOA, right…?”. “Jax…”, Nina breathed. “This is him…”. “That’s your brother?”, Angel almost gasped. “I can’t believe I actually met the guy". “Do you remember him?”, Nina asked hopefully.

Angel dug through his memories, wanting nothing but to please her with a heartwarming story. “I was pretty wasted…”, he admitted. “But I remember he was talking about his kids…”. Nina nodded solemnly, seemingly sad, that she couldn’t get anything else out of him. He put his arm around her, and kissed her forehead. Chibs reached across the table, and took the picture. He looked down at it and chuckled. “Of course you don’t remember…”, he said. “But I can’t believe I fucking forgot!”. “What?”, Angel asked. “You were driving that piece of shit Suzuki, and thought you’d get away with sitting on Jackson’s Super Glide, for a picture”. The memory began dawning on Angel, and he instantly cringed. “He caught you, and knocked your fucking lights out! Peace was almost off because of that shit…”. Taza, who’d been chatting with Tig, took the picture from Chibs, and smiled down at it; before handing it back to Angel. “Don’t you remember Angel? We put another three months on your year as prospect for that”.

A clear laughter broke through the sound of the music, and the talking crowd. Angel turned and looked at Nina, whose face was contorted in glee. “Jax told me about that! How some no-name prospect rubbed up on his bike”, she said. “I had to put him in his place… I got him a beer when no one was watching, though”. “Yeah…”, Angel said, letting the corners of his lips rise in a slight smile. "I remember now. He seemed like a good guy”. “He was…”, Nina said. Her brows furrowed for a moment, before she met his eyes. “Do you…? I want to go see him”. Angel had to think for a moment, before he realized what she was saying. “Yeah… Of course”, he said. “You wanna go now?”. Nina nodded fervently, but seemingly nervous that he’d say no.

Angel put the picture in his cut pocket, to keep safe; then got to his feet, and pulled Nina up to stand. “Let’s go”, he said. He looked at the others around the table, and gave them a half smile. “I still need one more person’s blessing”.

---

The sun was about to go down, when they made it to the cemetery. Nina was holding on so hard to Angel’s hand, as they walked down the rows of grave-stones, that he was sure she’d leave marks; but he didn’t say anything – strangely nervous at the situation, and needing her support as much as she needed his. Nina smiled at a few grave-stones they passed, with names like Winston, Knowles and Munson. Angel noticed another stone, with the name John Teller engraved on it. He felt the urge to nod respectfully at it, as Nina stopped for a few seconds, to brush some dead leaves from it.

“It’s up here”, she said in a whisper, and pulled him with her, to a large stone with the Sons of Anarchy A, over the name Jackson Nathaniel Teller. Nina kneeled down in front of it, and held her brother’s helmet in her lap. Giving up on the fight on whether she should use it or not long ago, Angel had added some extra padding to it for her; so that it would at least be safer, than it had been before. “Hi, Jax…”, Nina said. “It’s been a while… I’m sorry about that, but I’ve been kinda busy”. She rubbed her belly protectively. “This is Angel”, she said, and looked up at him, with a warm smile. Angel cleared his throat, unsure what to do. “Hi…”, he muttered. “Yeah, I know… But he’s got a cool bike”, Nina chuckled. Angel frowned in confusion, but decided against commenting on her words. “I kept my promise after all. I’m happy. And everyone is safe… At least, as safe as they can be, as outlaw bikers…”.

She sat quietly for a long moment, and Angel kneeled down next to her; putting an arm around her shoulders. He kissed her check, and tasted the salty taste of her tears on his lips. “You ok?”, he whispered. Nina looked at him, and nodded; a smile on her lips. “Happy tears”, she said, and looked back at the stone. “I went back to school. I’m taking classes to become a paralegal… I wanna try to help the undocumented people the Mayans are moving through the tunnels”. “And she is”, Angel cut in. “She’s doing good work with what she knows, already”. Nina smiled embarrassedly for a moment, before continuing. “I’ve had to take a little break though, ‘cuz of the baby… It’s kind of hard to keep up with online classes, when you gotta pee every 45 minutes. But once she’s here, I‘ll be able to go back part time… I think I’ve found my path, and I have someone holding my hand while I walk it. And we’ve got have a large family – ourlarge family – to support us, whatever might get in our way”.

They were quiet for a moment longer; while Nina brushed her fingertips over the helmet in her lap. “I’ll be ok now, Jax. I promise…”. She lifted the helmet, and pressed a kiss to it, before placing it on the ground in front of the gravestone. She looked at Angel, and wiped her eyes. “Let’s go”.

Angel got to his feet, and went behind Nina, to lift her up to stand. Hand in hand, they began walking back towards the parking lot. “Wait a sec…”, Angel said, and halted. “What?”, Nina said. He pressed a short kiss to her lips. “I’ll be right back”.

He walked back to Jackson’s grave. “Thanks, man… For everything”, he said. He kissed his fingers, and pressed them to the stone; before turning around, and walking back towards to his woman, his daughter, and their future together.

The End.

---

tags: @cole-winchester @doloreschanal

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #ez reyes #coco cruz #sons of anarchy

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Text

Two Faced | Chapter Five

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 3k author note :: just got diagnosed with covid so i have a lot of spare time on my hands so ummm send in any requests you have into my ask box i’d love to try doing headcanons!! → next part is here!!

Erwin sees the confused look you have and now he too seems lost as he shifts his line of vision to Levi. At that moment your husband slams his heel and grinds it onto your foot. Squirming around in your seat dealing with the stinging pain you catch on that you can't let Erwin think you're clueless.

Quickly, the look of confusion washes away from your features and you return his smile. "I'm willing to do what I must."

You think you've ruined this entirely because Erwin's eyes dart suspiciously between you and your husband. However, Hange intervenes, the interference seems to be enough for him to shake off any skepticism he senses.

Two hands hold onto your frame and squeeze your shoulders. Hange is standing up and seems ecstatic."You two are just so evil." they cackle to themself and you play along laughing too. You are not giving Levi the opportunity to ram into your foot again. Hange who is practically a personified ray of Sunshine at all times does still seem a little down, you did pick up on it when you entered the room. Maybe it was just you overthinking, that's what you assure yourself with.

Then it settles in your bones. Evil? Blinking you turn to look at Levi hoping for some sort of indication about whatever is going on.

"She wouldn't listen to me at all, said she felt the need to step in and help the Empire in some way." His tone is monotonous, still not sparing you a glance and you want to kick him in the shins. He's usually much more affectionate and you're afraid Squad Leader Hange and Commander Erwin will figure out this is all a facade.

"It's a noble commitment to put yourself forward for such a risky position, I see why you and Lance Corporal Levi are a sound match." Erwin isn't smiling this time but his tone is content.

Mind now buzzing with ideas you want to fall face first into the carpeted floor of the office spread out like a starfish. You would prefer that instead of being left in the dark. Could they simply mention the name of whatever it is you've apparently offered to do?

Levi's clearly grimaces but then he moves to hold your hand rather boldly. Shaking him off isn't an available option because of his strong grip. "She wouldn't listen to me at all. If I had it my way she wouldn't step anywhere near enemy soil." He grumbles.

The fake concern he's trying to lace in his voice is having an effect on his two colleagues, they're eating it up and believe this act.

Enemy soil? Risky position? He has to be stealthily plotting your death because you see no other reason for why you would be sent off to venture anywhere near the enemy. You aren't even apart of their regime, or any regime for that matter, you're itching with nervousness and want to free your hand from his desperately.

The only emotion this man is good at feigning is straight boredom, he ignores the way your hand shakes and squirms, ignores how your palms are dampening with sweat, instead the way he holds onto you only strengthens. It's surprising that no one has said a word about the lack of chemistry between the two of you.

Suddenly Hange looks down at their pocket watch and hurriedly gets to their feet dragging Erwin up with them too. "Y/N, I have something to tell you later on, please do stop by HQ when you can, I expect that will be soon." They then tell Erwin that there's no time to loiter and that there are more important meetings to attend to.

Erwin leans into your ear and whispers. "He seems disturbed that you're putting yourself at risk. He means well." You wish that were the case but it isn't. Despite that the way Erwin tries to explain Levi's behavior is sweet.

Hange gives you a cute thumbs up but makes it a point that you need to speak later on, even as they're both walking out the door Hange keeps reminding you to meet up later on. The abnormal behavior between you and Levi may have been noticed but you know if that were the case Hange would have been more vocal about it.

"Combat classes start soon. We know this will all be difficult, building you up from scratch is hazardous but all in good time you will serve a key role in the liberation of Paradis."

Erwin's parting words are gracious.

And then both the Commander and Squad Leader leave, the room is empty but Levi doesn't even wait for the door to shut behind your two visitors.

He makes it a priority to throw your hand away from his, he's now methodically using his handkerchief to dust his fingers off. It's oddly ironic and enrages you because he's the one who grappled your hand into his grasp. What's the point when those same hands until recently looped around your waist in the middle of the night?

He thinks your hand is filthy, that you yourself are filthy and disgusting. At least that's what you think he thinks.

Crossing your arms over your chest you make your feelings known to Levi. You're frustrated beyond the way words can describe, it's not about how he refuses to touch you. Admittedly that does hurt you, makes your chest swell in remembrance of the old days but you really just want to know what he's put you up to without your permission.

Not speaking you wait for him to take the hint but he doesn't get it or he refuses to acknowledge your existence, something tells you it's the latter because all he cares about is sanitizing his hands.

He always had been a clean freak but when he was enchanted it didn't take much for him to touch you. Part of you wonders if it's the nature of the touch that he wants to exterminate or the fact it's your skin he's come in contact with which is bothering him.

"Care to explain?"

"Touching someone such as yourself romantically gives me the urge to retch." The confession is as acidic as the after taste one has after a late night of drinking, but he has no problem telling you the blunt truth.

"I see." You shortly reply, you weren't asking about that, your question was directed more towards the conversation which just took place with his colleagues but now knowing he doesn't want to touch you has an emptying effect on your chest.

A silent minute passes, maybe two minutes, you're not sure all you're doing is eyeing the carpet thinking about how you would like to be asphyxiated and brought to your end, you can't handle this for much longer.

"Sign these papers, we need your written consent." His voice shows no hints hints of Lev. Last night may have been the last time you had a chance to witness him.

A stack of documents is thrown in front of you and then you see it right at the top of the pile. A sheet filled with general information, eyes skim over the "Purpose of employment" section and you don't know what churns in your stomach. Is it Exasperation? Nerves? Grief? It can't be pinpointed, it could be a mix of all three.

"An Informant."

Rereading the title you hold the paper in disbelief between your palms. "You told your regiment that I would be willing to spy in on enemy kingdoms?"

His hands rub at his forehead, he's not perturbed at all. "Is it in your blood to be ungrateful?" Brutally cynical his tone is rocky.

He moves - not even towards you but for some reason you flinch stopping him in his tracks almost immediately. Narrow ice cold eyes trace your face carefully for any signs of manipulation or deception. Gulping anxiously you know you have to be careful with what you say or do. Getting too comfortable or casual around him is a risk you are not willing to take.

"I don't think you understand. I do not have the abilities nor the skill to do this. I would cause more issues." You cautiously move to grab his arm but before you get there he takes a wide step back. He's clearly defining that there's a boundary. You won't step into his territory not when you've already invaded a large portion of it for so long.

"I am no witch. I still don't understand what happened." You mutter hoping he believes you or at least tries to.

"Then die." Levi hisses. He fixes you with his poisonous stare. "Make it quick."

Curse yourself to a life with this man who every step of the way is hoping for your death - maybe he'll even push you towards it purposefully one day. The alternative choice available is to die by the hands of that same man right now.

Guilt and regret are what you feel, you can't look death in the eye proudly. Not right now. If you can't commit to the promise you made mother then there is truly no point in making your way to the afterlife.

Cowardice is not the cause of death you want to present her with.

With a heavy heart you sign the papers.

It's been a few days since then, you've received training from some of Levi's squad, at first the combat is nerve wracking but you get to a level where you feel comfortable in terms of defense.

Oluo is slow, you've picked up on the way his stance predicts every move he's about to make. You're thankful for that because it makes training easier, he's oblivious to just how easy it is to read his movements and you snigger at that. Today he's trying a new technique, it consists of attempting to dive in the direction of one of your shoulders and suddenly darting at the other. It catches you off guard for a second but it's simple to block him. Jumping back from another surprise attack you lunge forward as if you're aiming for his face. He lights up thinking this is his chance unbeknownst to him you've already seen the open opportunity you've been waiting for. You can change the wager in this brawl. Swiftly ducking you undercut him with one of your legs, his balance has been knocked and he stumbles teetering by a thread.

A solid kick to his stomach is all it takes for him to collapse to the ground grumbling in vexation.

Mikasa has been helping you with one on one combat and the extra hours of training behind the stables has clearly been of benefit.

Thinking back to your training sessions with Mikasa you frown, not because of the way she flipped you and shoved you into the dirt, no that part was quite exhilarating. It's Sasha. She's been on your mind. She has to be feeling left out, that's your fault you've kept her in the dark about joining the regime, how could you attend training with her? Your maid waiting on you whilst you were training? Impossible.

The last problem you wish to arise is everyone finding out you're Duchess Ackerman. No one has to know about that minor detail, in fact when you informed Hange and Erwin of your decision they strongly agreed it would be best to hide it.

"I think we should get you strapped into some gear. See how good you really are in the dexterity department." Oluo is spitefully mumbling under his breath red faced.

Offering him your hand he looks like he wants to smack it away, You don't have time for this, you were planning on dropping by and paying Hange their more than overdue visit after training hours were up.

ODM-gear doesn't look too hard, you're sure you can work out the mechanisms if given some time. Calculating and shifting time blocks in your head you can come to an end at Six, if and only if you're able to rush past ODM training.

"Okay, I admit you were tired today I could tell. I'll strap myself into some gear."

At this new new challenge Oluo willingly takes your hand and you heave him up.

He's got a cocky shit-eating grin sprawled across his face as he pats your back enthusiastically.

"Good luck, you're in for one hell of a ride."

Three dimensional ODM-gear, a contraption that is very different to a sword or dagger. Most soldiers find it difficult to master the balancing of all their body weight whilst simultaneously gliding through the air with the grapple hooks. This is why introductory lessons in balance, momentum and effective weight distribution are a must.

It's been instructed that you won't be using ODM-gear nearly as much as other members of the regiment, you're training to become a spy after all and ODM-gear is very obviously visible when a person is strapped into their uniform. Nevertheless it's still a requirement to be able to use it. It's a hurdle because it's not your forte by any means but you can't continue avoiding it.

When living as the Duchess you deemed it pivotal to only interact with a limited number of Levi's colleagues, those who worked at the estate couldn't be avoided such as Mikasa but apart from that Hange was the only outsider you spoke to (Before Erwin had come along). You don't know if you regret that decision because it's definitely why everyone is cackling as you thrash around, they have no idea he has a wife and if they do they show no inclination of knowing you are that woman.

Sniggers can be heard as you struggle to center your strength fully, your instructor bellows at you. "No, come on. STOP FLAILING AROUND!" Particles of his saliva fly in your face and that only feeds into your embarrassment. Paralyzed you don't know what to do, he tells you to not move around then the next minute barks at you to not give up, repeats that you have the agility level equivalent of a sick child.

You've been stuck in this upside down position for more time than you can imagine, at some point a large majority of the scouts including Oluo double down in laughter whenever you make a mistake - they berate you when you are trying your best.

Legs kicking out you're panicking and want to escape the harness you're in.

Oluo was right, nothing could prepare you for this.

Mikasa when she isn't busy assisting Levi is a part of the regime too, that's why she's grinding her teeth this morning when she walks into the training grounds and sees the whole scene play out right before her eyes.

She wants to desperately step in and stop this because you being forced into ODM training without having your core strength developed is unfair.

Then a yell is heard from the crowd "GO Y/N!! LISTEN TO ME ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS KEEP CALM!" Both you and Mikasa turn to see Sasha standing next to her.

Sasha? Mikasa knows very well how you forbade her to follow you today, you gave her the day off to visit her family.

"I thought Y/N warned yo-"

"I am dedicated in my service to the Lady, if she chooses to do this I will be by her side to support her. She does not have to feel embarrassed."

Members of the corps are eyeing her weirdly when she says "Lady" she doesn't know you're keeping your identity secret, that was the reason for giving her time away, you were afraid she'd slip up and expose you but simply hearing Sasha proudly announce her commitment for you in front of all these people knocks the wind right out of your chest. You've never felt this much importance before.

Sasha's motivation is all you need because by a miraculous turn of events you manage to steady your breathing pattern and find it within yourself to focus on your core. Wobbling shakily the transition is far from smooth but you flip yourself right side up, the muscles in your calf ache and throb with pain but you've done it.

Grinning from ear to ear at your two friends you feel light-headed with relief.

"Took her long enough." Levi sneers. He's made his way to the front of the crowd, you wonder when he got here. Beaming at him you think your presentation might be enough to discourage his usual response. You're incorrect.

"She's a shame to this squad, there is no need in motivating someone of her rank." Shallow breaths puffing out of you it comes to your attention that he's addressing Sasha.

She ignores what he has to say about you and stays silent, any normal person would have their head hanging down in shame but she looks into his eyes with a determination that takes your breath away.

He pays her no mind after that and turns back to where you're still struggling to keep steady. "Don't think you're hot shit." Your bottom teeth dig into your lip, and your throat suddenly clamps down on you restricting your breath. "She's no good at combat, no good at using her gear. Do you only excel at spreading lies, Cadet?" The way he's now completely indignant in the way he speaks stings. He doesn't even bother to sound normal in front of Mikasa or Sasha anymore, it makes you manually hollow your cheeks trying to keep your tears at bay.

Lies, you know what he's referencing. You want to grab him by the collar of his shirt and throw him to the muddy ground. That's what he deserves for prodding and poking at your vulnerabilities.

He doesn't understand the degree at which all these sudden changes are affecting you, in his eyes this is light work and shouldn't impact you at all, that's why when you feel a muscle contraction and reel backwards, rapidly falling back into that cursed upside down position. He scoffs, doesn't even move to check if you're okay.

Whispers circle around you and even some of the cadets who participated in ridiculing you step forward to take you out of your harness. However, Sasha and Mikasa get there first and shoot them with their intense glares, the both of them work on hoisting you out of your gear.

Levi takes one last look at you before he storms away convinced you're faking, what else would a runt like you do to escape the situation?

In his mind you lost your momentum and your ship capsized because of your own self sabotage.

Little does he know all that has truly lost momentum is the inner-workings of your heart and that is all thanks to him.

#levi ackerman #levi #aot #snk #attack on titan levi #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #duke levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi smut #levi angst #levi fluff #levi fanfiction #leviiattacks

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bhaalspawnd · 3 years

Text

no gods, no masters, iii.

Pairing: Benny x F!Courier

read ch. 1 here, read ch. 2 here. read ch. 3 on ao3.

They were all feeling a bit beaten-up after fending off the Legion; the victory was just that, but it felt hollow. They'd be sending assassins after Ava until there were none of them left or she kicked the bucket. The latter was unlikely. She was being quiet as usual, but this quiet felt different. She wouldn't stop looking over her shoulder, a vacant stare in her eye as she did so, and her pace had slowed down considerably compared to the last few days.

The ambush had taken more of their time and energy than they'd planned, and they decided to stop at the 188 Trading Post for the night. There were a handful of NCR soldiers occupying the spot, so it'd be safer than just stopping on the side of the road or off the trail. There were no free beds to spare, but all they needed was a relatively safe place where they wouldn't have to sleep with one eye open; nobody was new to the occasional necessity of sleeping on the ground.

Once they found their own little area to hold up for the evening, the Courier sat down to rest and make a fire. They gave her some space. Boone pulled Benny aside, far enough so that Ava wouldn't hear.

"Right, so," Benny stuck his wrists out in front of Boone, "Gonna leash me back up, huh?"

Boone shook his head, "Actually, no. At least... not now, anyway. That's up to her. About today-"

"Oh, yeah," Benny chewed his lip, taking the gun out of his waistband, "Here you go."

He held it out for the other man to take, but Boone waved his hand, "Keep it. For here. Just in case."

Benny gave him a funny look, "You sure, cat?"

"Yeah," He nodded, glancing behind Benny in Ava's direction, "Just... watch her, alright? She's hurting."

"I will-" Benny moved to stick the pistol back in his pants, but not before Boone grabbed his arm.

"Take advantage, or try anything and I swear to god," Boone said, lowering his shades to look Benny straight in the eye, "I'm not far away. I will be watching, and I will put a bullet in you."

"You're gonna have to come up with a new threat," Benny replied with ire, "That one's getting stale, dig?"

"Be less of an asshole and then maybe I won't have to threaten you." Boone rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. He whistled for Rex, who trotted to the sniper's side and followed along obediently to keep watch.

Boone's 10mm in hand, Benny made his way back to check on Ava. He stashed the gun in the back of his waistband again, hoping he wouldn't need to use it. At least, not tonight, anyway.

Ava was sitting in front of the small campfire she'd made, her legs splayed out in front of her, the toes of her boots tapping together to some beat only she could hear. There was a bottle of whiskey in her lap, and it looked like she was making solid headway on it.

"Hey, hey," Benny crouched down next to her, "What's shakin'?"

"Benny," She turned to him, a dazed smile on her face, "I’m trying to get drunk. Shakin' with you?"

"Ah, nothin' much," He settled down, stretching his legs out next to hers, "Gettin' smashed, huh? Can I get some of that?"

"Mmmmmhm," She hummed, handing him the bottle and watching as he took a deep swig, "It's good shit."

"It's... not bad," Benny swished it around a bit before swallowing, "Got better shit at the Tops, though."

"Yeah, yeah, you're so high and mighty at the Tops, aren't you," Ava poked him hard in the side with her finger, her eyes hazy, "'Benny's gonna show you the Tops', hah."

"Shut up," He snickered, "I did, though. The dent in that mattress was permanent."

She looked over at him, the light from the fire dancing on her features, "I remember."

It was astonishing how terrifyingly stunning she was. That handful of months ago now, when she'd been kneeling on the ground in front of him, her life flashing before her eyes, she'd just looked like a kid, nothing more than a clueless girl who had no idea what kind of package she was carrying.

How had that not been enough in itself to make him reconsider what he’d been doing at the time? He hadn't even thought twice; once he had that chip between his fingers, it was a done deal. He could've let her go, she probably wouldn't have come looking. Even the Great Khans had reservations about the whole thing, but it hadn't stopped him. Shit. He was a piece of shit, an untrustworthy fink, and he knew it. She knew it. Everyone knew it.

Benny looked over at her out of the corner of his eye, "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

Benny rolled his eyes, "Good goddamn lord, woman."

"I'm fucking with you," Ava mused, "Go ahead."

"Last night in Novac. And... earlier today," Benny started carefully, "You, uh, kinda freaked. You looked really messed up."

Ava looked down at her hands, averting her gaze, "Yeah."

"What happened?"

"Ah.... yeah... so, my head does that every now and then," She answered with tight lips, "Ever since... y'know, I got a bullet to the brain from this checkered bastard I know."

"Right," He said guiltily, "Shit."

What could he say that wouldn't sound stupid or disingenuous? He'd shot her in the fucking head and now she was living with the consequences. God, there was a lot he wanted to tell her, but none of it would come out the way he wanted it to.

He sat next to her, quietly cursing himself when she spoke up again, "I get these like... migraines mixed with small bursts of panic attacks. I don't understand them. I've even asked a doc and he doesn't know. I have dreams all the time about people that I don’t recognize. I see their faces and it’s like I’m supposed to know them and I just don’t," She sighed, the heaviness of the conversation beginning to sober her, “And even when I’m awake, sometimes, I see them, too. In the back corner of a mirror, in the desert heat, they're just watching me. Like I'm riding on Daytripper in a bad way, but I'm stone-cold sober. I'm living with ghosts, Benny. People I'm supposed to know, to feel something for, but all they do is confuse me and make my head spin."

Benny frowned, "You don't remember them. Not at all?"

"No. Don't even know if they're dead or alive. It's not like anybody's come looking for me," Ava shook her head, taking a small yellow and green box out of her pocket that said MENTATS on it in rusted red lettering, "The way I see it, everyone from my past is dead, or I'm dead to them. Or I'm just not someone worth searching for."

She said it with bitterness, her brows furrowed and eyes glued to the horizon as she popped a Mentat on her tongue.

"Do they help?" Benny asked, gesturing to the box of chems as Ava rubbed her thumb across the letters.

"Kinda? I mean, everything from before Goodsprings is a blank. I haven't forgotten anybody I've met since then, but I get these, like, little flashes of moments that seem like they're mine, but they're not. At least, not mine anymore. That's when it hurts. When it turns into something like what happened today. I saw somewhere else, like here, but worse. More desolate, if you can believe that. It was like the whole place was in pain, screaming at me. Kinda think it's better that I don't remember."

She shoved the Mentats back into her pocket and inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as she filled herself with the dry Mojave air, "Everything before Goodsprings doesn't matter anymore, not really. Who I was before is gone. I just want to make sure I remember who I am now."

There was a beat of silence, the two of them just sitting and staring at the fire as the wind began to pick up around them. Ava tucked her knees up and rested her chin on them as she stared at the sun slowly making its way towards the edge of the world.

"I'll make sure you don't forget," Benny said quietly, "Been a goddamn fink to you so... I owe you that much. I'll never stop being sorry. I mean that."

Ava turned her head to look over at him, her brows slightly raised in disbelief at his words.

"And for what it's worth, if anything at all," He continued, "I think you're someone worth searching for."

Her eyes softened; he'd never seen her look at him that way before. It was something like... fondness? Appreciation? A lapse in judgment from the whisky and chems? Whatever it was, it pulled at the corners of his mouth. Ava smiled back, the first real one he'd ever seen from her, and it was infectious. Her cheeks dimpled, and she looked almost a little nervous before she settled into it, which made Benny wonder just how many reasons she'd even have to smile these days. A gust of wind blew through their camp, and Ava visibly shivered. Wordlessly, Benny shrugged his jacket off and put it over her shoulders.

"I'm still really fuckin' mad at you," She whispered, "But thank you, Benny."

She didn't wait for him to reply before she scooted closer to him so that their sides were touching. Ava reached for his arm and gently slung it over her shoulders as she rested her head against his chest. He was stiff for a moment, not quite sure if this was a sick joke or not, but when she didn't do anything else besides lean into him, he finally relaxed.

The girl knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to take it; he dug that.

They sat for a while, neither of them saying a word, as the sky grew darker and darker. Vegas glowed like a lantern off in the distance, a stark contrast to the rest of the Mojave bathed in black. With how brightly the skyline shone, the stars had a hard time competing, even though the sky was littered with them. It wasn't often that Benny spent a night out in the dust - that was now more a thing relegated to a former life - and though he wasn't one to live in the past, he couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia as he stared up at the constellations. Years of his life spent as a nomad walking the Mojave with the Boot Riders, countless nights just like this, and how quickly he'd tossed it all aside for caps and comfort. He'd have done all that again, he knew, but as he felt Ava relax fully against him, he had more than one regret in the back of his mind. Benny was careful as he glanced down at her, her eyes closed and mouth slightly open as she slept soundly on his shoulder, and gently moved some of the hair away from her face. As he did, his eyes caught the edge of the scar from the bullet.

Yeah, sure-as-shit, more than one regret.

#should I keep posting this here or just updating on ao3 #I don't know #anyway *throws it into the void*#benny x courier #benny gecko #courier six #oc: ava #oc: ava decker #*my writing #otp: born to die

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