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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 4 months

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Untouchable

Hey, Army! Get denied by Jungkook in a fanfic. One-Shot for all you masochists.

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What is it about Jungkook that attracts you when you look at him? Every year, his hair gets shorter and shorter. He adds another piercing. His American accent improves. He gets funnier in English. You learn more words in Korean. Every year, you stay as close to him as you can, hoping that one day he'll make a move before you find the courage. You are friends in and out of the industry, after all.

"Ohh?~ Mariah.. has been wanting me for Christmas. I'm starting to feel bad," Jungkook laughs as the pop hit signals the second loop of Soo Yoon's obscure Friendsmas playlist.

Soo Yoon. Korean beauty influencer.

As the latest addition to a musical friend group and Jungkook's latest beau, everyone was more than curious to hear her music taste, so of course, they let her put together the playlist when she offered. All I Want for Christmas is the only song any of you recognize. Even Jungkook. You meet his eyes and share a mutual thought that the music choice is terrible, but the second Soo Yoon looks up at him for his approval, he smiles back: Whipped.

"I'm too drunk for this," you mutter bitterly as you pick up your game cards. It's been a Friendsmas tradition with the group to play Cards Against Humanity, drink, eat, and do karaoke. But karaoke is difficult when no one knows the songs! "Where are the Temptations? Boys II Men? I know we aren't all black, but for be real. The music we make is."

"I'm saying," Malik, one of the two other blacks in the professional friend group, agrees. He's got taste. It's kind of his job.

"K-pop is Korean. It's got nothing to do with being black," Soo Yoon argues. You merely look at Jungkook, addressing your irritation to him with your eyes.

"Ah~ These drinks are strong," he coughs, mumbling to Soo Yoon in Korean.

"Well I need some soul," you mumble, pleased to hear the music switch. Glory! Malik has taken it over. "Thank you Mr. Producer." You raise your drink. You can't help but notice Jungkook quietly and subtly comforting Soo Yoon, holding her thin and pale frame protectively as she looks innocently disappointed, her near white-bleached long hair angelically tousled over his hand.

With a taste of the liquor in your cup, you swallow your disdain and slap a black card on the table, reading it out. "On the third day of Christmas, Santa gave to me..."

Eight white cards drop face down to be mixed up, each player submitting the most heinous statements that make even Jungkook blush when you read them aloud.

"The clap, syphilis, and herpes. 🎵"

"I stuck my dick in the mac n cheese. 🎵"

"Most bomb pussy - from the Beyonce deck."

"Y'all are sick," you gasp, your hand over your mouth to hide your beyond tipsy and tickled expression. Not knowing who said what. "SICK I tell you. You should all be ashamed.."

You choose the best worst answer, and Soo Yoon squeaks in excitement, causing your brow to rise. Soo Yoon. Of all people, her mind... You never would've guessed.

"I started off skeptical, but hot damn is she colorful," Dustin blurts, getting several easy laughs as Soo Yoon smiles, pretending to be shy. You nearly roll your eyes. Now she wants to make up for the awful playlist by displaying her vocals. You don't want to hear it.

You listen, hoping she can't carry a note, but she can, and it's angelic. You'd buy the single if she sold it. It makes you kinda sick. She's beautiful, has good styling and makeup, she's funny, speaks her mind, and can sing.

You actually... like her.

"She makes the best bulgogi," Jungkook brags, chomping down on pizza slice. How does he eat with those lip rings in?

Soo Yoon looks so proud. They're actually, in your mind, the perfect couple.

"It's getting hot," you sigh, fanning your face and feeling your heart sink with envy.

"Are you good," Alison asks as you gather yourself to walk out.

"Want some company?" She's a British choreographer who's relocated to Busan. You met her through Jimin.

You shake your head. Your industry friends are considerate, but you need some space to be alone and feel whatever this is. "Going for a walk, I feel unsteady and I'm overheated between this damn sweater and the alcohol," you assure.

Walking out into a gust of chilly night air on your lonesome, you don't want anyone following you. Well. Maybe one person.

You watch your breath turn into fog as the Christmas lights from the houses on the street illuminate the dark.

"You sure you're alright?"

"Hm?" You turn to see Jungkook drowning in his oversized sleeves, no Soo Yoon in sight. "Yeah, why?"

You can still hear the distinct sound of laughter inside. Everyone sounds genuinely happy. Jungkook hitches his hands in his pockets... a model without trying. You groan in pain of how good he looks, especially with his latest piercings. Fuck you for having that face, you burn. You've already complimented them once.

"You seem a little off? Wae geu-rae.."

You lean on the railing, debating whether or not to be honest. "Just a little holiday sadness."

"Ah."

"Anyway, so.. Soo Yoon is something. You two are actually perfect together."

"True," he smiles his dazzling smile, unaware of how it kills you. He is so happy. You liked him better single and lonely. Nah, you don't mean that.

"You coming back inside?"

"Yeah, in a minute."

He leaves, but you take your minute to get your mind right. It stings, and it's unfortunate, but it's not the end of the world, right? So what?

One Year Later...

It's time for you to make your way to the next city where the Friendsmas party will be hosted by Jimin.

Everyone's been waiting for this after working so hard all season. It's finally time to let hair down and get as drunk as possible.

But you're nervous this year. You haven't spent as much time around Jungkook. Again his hair has gotten shorter and from what you've seen, he's only gotten more attractive. More successful. More savvy. You thought you were attracted before. You're fearful now. You're worried that you'll see him and he'll look so much like a photograph of himself that you won't be able to treat him normally. That would be an utter nightmare .

On the night drive, you control your own playlist. The drive with the music is easy and the holidays make everything feel light and exciting, but anxiety eats you like a stubborn mosquito.

You don't wanna see Jungkook, you decide once you're parked. You don't want to see him. This year, he's single again. You're single. But nothing ever happens when the both of you are single. He's never flirted with you seriously. Ever.

"Hello," you call Malik to tell him you may not be able to make it afterall. He's inside. You can hear Alison mention that she saw your car on the road on the way. It's too late not to show up. You make something up as a reason to have dialed and walk into the party.

Jungkook isn't there. Immediately you release your breath and relax, getting into the friendly flow and vibe. This is your safe zone. You feel as ease and joyful with these people. You just have to pace yourself with drinking.

An hour later, you hear that familiar voice greeting your friends and look up to see Jungkook. He is completely flawless, like you feared, and now your mind is fuzzy like a blushing teen. You want to cut to the chase and ask him why he's not attracted to you. Is it because you're black and not Korean? What else could it be? Surely?

But when he approaches you for his hug, you don't confront him. Thankfully, you aren't that drunk. Instead, you politely flee the scene to play pool by yourself as a distraction so you won't go crazy.

Fuck you, Jungkook, for doing this to me. Every time.

You hate to say it, but it's true.

Fuck you and your untouchable face. Fuck you for existing in the first place.

You would make him happy if only you were his type and not just an industry friend. But alas, he's just not interested.

"What's wrong," he finds you once more to ask. You're a little tired of him finding you now.

"Do I have to say it?"

He glances away briefly which is way worse. The cringe intensifies. He's never acknowledged or admitted to knowing about your feelings. And now that it's somewhat obvious that he's had an idea about them, it'd been better had he just continued to pretend to know nothing. You wouldn't have to feel the- what is this- Rejection?

"Hey... I don't want our current relationship to change..."

You know him inside out, his likes, his icks, his dreams.

"You won't," you assure, understanding. "I get it. It's okay. Really." And you mean it.

That makes him happy to hear, knowing you mean it. You're still cringing, but he's moved on and touched your head playfully, poking your shoulder before rejoining the others.

You make closer the the window to see the stars in the sky, or at least what you can of them. You don't know how to feel. A little okay? A little icky?

"Fuck you," you whisper aloud for the first time, a small smirk at your lips. At least you can finally move on.

#original #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 5 months

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I said November and I didn't lie to y'all see? Update.

-9- Ties that Bind

As for the birds, Dawn followed them to a clear spring where she refilled her canteen and picked from a grove of fresh fruit until the birds swooped down, blinding her with their wings. She dropped her collection to shield her face and the fruit burst, spilling a sickly yellow fluid with a foul scent like putrid pus. If she had eaten that shit... She sighed, hungry. Why the hell was she in the middle of the forest again? Find him, her brain replied. Find him quickly and trust the birds.

She followed them day and night, ending up in an open clearing the size of a football field. Wildflowers and overgrowth stretched on creating a scene that she'd never found in the concrete jungle of New York. It was open and beautiful, but that left less places to hide.

There, in the distant line of trees, stood a shadowed figure that she nearly missed until she did a double take. Spotted, he stepped forward. It was the man she'd been combing the forest for. She wasn't as prepared as her mind tricked her into believing. Her breath caught. Comparing the angles of his face to the images in reoccurring visions, he was exactly as she recalled. She'd gotten it right down to the detail. His crimson eyes beamed like lights, and the only change in his appearance was his locs, which had grown to his shoulders.

Within a blink, he was but a yard away as though he'd never moved. Dawn felt a sudden tinge of fear like she was standing on thin ice in the dead of winter with danger lurking beneath the frozen surface. She was hesitant to blink. It was a fleeting feeling that wouldn't bloom enough to be addressed. As soon as she felt it, it left. She didn't understand why, nor did the thought linger.

"It's smaller than you'd think, but constantly changing," Dawn replied, the uncanny feeling once again on the backburner. "These your birds?"

"You're alone."

N'Jadaka looked to the clear orange sky as the sounds of the forest amplified through the silence. He'd assumed that his compulsion would eat at her a little longer before she caved, a few more years perhaps.

"Is the outside world so frivolous?"

Or was his compulsion just that strong?

N'Jadaka's attention remained on the changing orange sky as the sun was gradually setting.

Dawn took a bold step forward, looking at his upturned eyes. He was still with no visible change or response. It made her her feel impatient. She'd come so far.

"Okay...," Dawn squinted. She didn't care for being ignored. "You did something to me," she accused. "I can't get you or this place out of my head. Seems you started a process you didn't care to finish, and now I'm tethered to you from a different country. Care to explain?"

Silence.

He looked at her then, visibly skeptical. "This meadow. What do you think of it?"

"Nothing?... You just gone stand there like I'm not talking?"

Silence.

She glared, waiting for a reaction. This was not the reunion she'd imagined. She finally kissed her teeth, ready to turn around.

"Like you don't look at the same damn thing every day."

"Uh, it's cool?" She shrugged. "The sky is probably the best part."

"I never get tired of this sky."

"Do you get any feelings in this meadow?"

Dawn sighed. Here she was after a year, and he was focused on the damn sky. Though it was beautiful.

She too stared upward, under the darkening sky.

"How did you feel when you awoke?" His question caught her off guard.

"It was a rush," she admitted. "When you gave me your blood, I felt intense energy inside of me. How did you know to do that? Did you know what it would do?"

Dawn sighed, closing her eyes briefly. Again with the sky and the meadow. She started walking away in the opposite direction, annoyed, but stopped. "You don't understand, I had to find you again. Something in me said find you, and I don't know why, but here I am."

It was like he'd teleported within another blink. He was behind her, his face at her ear. She should've been terrified, but the feeling couldn't fully register.

"It's okay to admit you're taken with the idea of eternal beauty and grace. Who doesn't want to live young forever? Poor thing. A human life is lackluster. So fleeting."

"It's the ties that bind," his honied voice came, his attention not on her but on the presence hiding in the trees ahead.

Someone had followed him despite his directive. As for who, it wasn't difficult to guess. She wasn't good at hiding her presence.

"Just a small taste, and you're hooked," his fingers slid feather-light over Dawn's sleeves and over her the shoulder straps of her backpack. He knew Deanna was watching.

How frightened she must be. Let's play a trick, shall we? Don't move, he willed Dawn as his hand slid snugly across the front of her slender neck. Dawn hadn't moved a muscle, rendered unable by his compulsion.

"The heightened senses. The newfound glory," he teased seductively in her ear. "You like what my power does to you. How it makes you feel. You feel renewed... Alive."

His voice was hypnotic, like a spell. He was too deep in her head, the subtle suggestions masquerading as her own thoughts.

She could feel his sharp nail pressing into her throat like a knife threatening to slice at any moment.

"You want this," he whispered in her ear as he lightly stroked the bonnet she wore. "I assure you, death is quicker than falling asleep."

"Careful, servant, or you might eat those words."

Finally. There she was, revealed from the trees. Deanna appeared, walking into the open and lowering herself to the ground. "I swear on my life I would never disrespect you, my prince, but I-"

It was light rebuke, but Deanna hid her face. Her fear of the prince ran deep, yet here she was, spying to keep a protective eye on Dawn.

Semi was the next to emerge, only he was furiously eyeing Deanna. "You insolent!!"

"Semi, why is a subject in my presence when I've asked to be alone? Do I need concerned to the point of re-evaluating your position?"

"No, my king." Semi bowed modestly. He had followed Deanna to the clearing to deal with her defiance. Now, he was forcing her to her knees at the prince's feet.

Dawn opened her mouth to speak, but Deanna's brief look paused her. Her body was bent to the lowest degree. "I beg you," she pleaded, "Spare her life. Take mine."

"How dare you continue to speak to me," N'Jadaka spat in disgust. Something about Dawn caused others to forget their place.

He could feel Semi staring. "You've got something to say?"

Deanna was now face down with her palms in the grass of her own volition. "My prince, forgive my insolence," she begged, but she did not move, nor did she raise her head even as the prince stepped on it, irritated that she'd go so far.

Part of him was appreciative. It was an odd mix of emotions that were difficult for him to place. That, too, irritated him.

"In respect and concern for your kingdom," Semi straightened. "There is something strange about the girl. You've felt it. We've all felt it. It's my belief that if you are willing, we should investigate."

His words confirmed what N'Jadaka had figured. One, there was serious talk among the palace, and he was not the only one feeling the confusion her random appearances had brought. Two, he couldn't turn her. Something deep in his gut told him it would be the mistake of his life, and he had to explore it.

"Get up," N'Jadaka challenged to the deadly still Deanna. She would not move for fear of what he might do to her if she did, which was a valid fear. He could be impulsive with his punishments. So he called on Semi. "Do what you will."

He needed a moment to think.

"How unsightly," he frowned. "And it's unbecoming to pant."

Dawn was stunned, and with a dismissive wave like he was over the entire interaction, N'Jadaka retreated, disappearing completely from her sight. She was picked up and whisked away before she could see who grabbed her.

Then she was set on her own two feet inside of the castle where Semi steadied her as she gathered her senses and her balance. The prince was already on his throne with a bored expression, his chin propped on his hand.

"Careful," a stunning young woman with elaborate braids and a canary yellow dress warned with a posh wave of a fan. One sharp side-glance from N'Jadaka sent her eyes to the floor.

"It's unbecoming to make a black woman lose her bonnet," Dawn side-eyed, trying to return to her body's equilibrium without puking. "Guess we all need etiquette."

"If you were one of us, you wouldn't feel the speed. Semi, show Miss Dawn to her quarters. Maybe she'll find the use of a mirror."

"RUDE," she yelled as the door shut behind her quicker than she could physically respond. She had a good comeback for the prince that would've made him think twice if only she could've stuck around. The material was there.

The soiree of well-dressed dead chuckled at Dawn's expense as N'Jadaka's haughty brow lifted, triggering Dawn to fire back, but she was no match for Semi's speed. He removed her quicker than she could part her lips.

She was now in the same dim burgundy and gold room she'd been kept in the last time she found herself in the hidden castle.

The door re-opened to a familiar face, one that was full of confusion and anxiety.

"Deanna!" Dawn's excitement spiked.

"Why would you come back!? He almost killed you." Deanna rushed to her, eyes wide as though she were staring at a ghost.

Deanna's eyes dulled. "I sensed the prince's blood in you." She was deeply confused. "But... How did you escape?"

Dawn sighed. "So boom," she justified. "I'm not crazy, I swear, but would you believe that with one drop of the prince's blood," her finger raised, "Everything about me has been enhanced. One drop. Like how am I alive, Deanna? I should've died, and I was planning to, but he saved me. Honest to God. No, no, hear me out! I'm not dead. I'm still me, but my strength and my stamina? Through the roof. The roof!"

"Oh, I didn't. I was near dead when the prince revived me. Was it the third time he's saved me? I'm still breathing."

With a dramatized deep breath, Dawn realized she was missing a brooding voice's interjections. Her brows shot up as she looked left and right.

"Where's Julip? You two were attached at the hip."

Dawn's eyes bugged as she grasped at straws to understand. "Wait, what?"

"Dungeon."

"Hm?"

"The prince has been taking out his frustration on him day and night."

"What did you think would happen, Dawn? He disobeyed the prince to help you."

"He's been in the dungeon since I left?" Dawn was still in shock. "But why, when the prince is the one who dropped me at the edge of the forest? It's gotta be more to it."

"No, Dawn, there doesn't," Deanna's annoyance glared. "I thought you would've known this... Something is definitely off about you."

"Me?!" Dawn pointed to herself.

"Why are you here?"

"Girl!" Dawn kissed her teeth, unable to explain without genuinely sounding crazy. "It's hard to explain. You wouldn't understand."

"Attempt," Deanna glared.

Dawn's voice turned into a whisper as she leaned into Deanna's shoulder. "All I know is I woke up in a hospital feeling better than ever. I don't know why. It doesn't.. It doesn't make sense. N'Jadaka's face has been haunting my dreams ever since."

"You dare use his name? Now I see... He's toying with you."

"I don't think so," Dawn admitted. "He could've killed me at any moment. You saw him. He didn't do it."

"It doesn't mean he won't. I've seen him compel people for his own entertainment before spilling their blood for banquet. It's fun for him." There was clear contempt in her voice as she seemed to remember something terrible. "I was compelled to my death. I didn't have control of my body. It was as though someone implanted thoughts in my head.

Dawn froze, the feeling familiar. "I've been in this haze as though I'm dreaming. I figured it's a side effect of the blood."

"Your fear sense is dulled. That's how he gets in. He makes you fearless so that nothing stops you from running full speed into death." Flashbacks returned as Deanna recalled some of the most simplistic yet cruel deaths she'd witnessed. "Even now, he's compelled Julip to feel pain. It's his way of torture. He compels us all to obey. And I'm aware the prince has compelled me to fear him more than anything. I'm sorry to say, it's likely his compulsion that has brought you back. He doesn't free anyone, ever, and now that you're back, he has you exactly where he wants you."

"Wants me? For what," Dawn frowned. She knew that fear was proper, but she still couldn’t feel it. "What do I do?"

"Escape. Before it's too late." She was silenced when Semi poked his head into the room.

Quickly, Deanna took Dawn into the bathroom and ran the bath, cleansing her of the sweat and grime. "Go with it," she advised. "Whatever happens, don't make him angry. Don't think about me, Julip, or anything else. At the first chance, hide. I'll do what I can."

"Get her ready," he ordered, disappearing.

Dawn nodded her permission.

Dawn's curls were braided down and tucked neatly, adorned with small white flowers. She was put in a long conservative white and gold dress with heavy gold earrings.

"If things go wrong-"

"It's my own fault," Dawn spoke flatly. She wouldn't dare blame Deanna.

"It's not your fault. His compulsion is strong. Dawn. But if things go wrong and he does, in fact, kill you, I hope you stay dead."

This time around, Dawn was escorted by N'Jadaka himself through the darkened halls where he seemed to float like an apparition in the haunted hallway lit with sconces. Huli and Semi stood stiff and intimidating at the large double doors of the massive banquet hall. It was as magnificent as Dawn recalled, an afro-gothic twist on ancient luxury with the kingdom in white tie coming to a pause in reverence of their charismatic leader. He was hand in hand with her, toting her at his side like an accessory.

"I'll do what I can."

Deanna sighed.

Dawn tried to stop her eyeroll unsuccessfully. Her distaste was palpable. There was a slight smirk on his lips, and the more put off she appeared, the more it entertained him. He was indeed toying with her.

"Welcome," he greeted his audience, exchanging pleasantries as Dawn remained silent. She could feel the shift in power dynamic. The people were bowing to her, though their eyes betrayed a desire to tear her apart.

"Wheel out the main course," Prince N'Jadaka gestured to the opposing double doors across the great room. On cue, the infamous rack appeared, triggering the sight of all that blood. She could smell it. She covered her nose, lost in an intense flashback that had previously been somewhat buried.

"Easy," N'Jadaka whispered, causing the memory to fade once more.

The attention of the crowd was still drawn to the rack as though they'd wheeled out a rich selection of steaks.

"A lovely display of forest fruits indeed," N'Jadaka's dead eyes rested on Dawn's. "Such short lifespans. It's pitiful, really."

"In the interest of manners, I have decided that our honored guest will do the honors this evening," he announced, placing a pristine blade into her palm. He watched her confusion turn to panic. She didn't have the stomach for murder which made it all the more entertaining. Wordlessly, he gestured with the grace of an ancient monarch for her to continue toward the rack of men.

"The empathy you feel," N'Jadaka's eyes burned. "What is that like?"

Cornered, Dawn wandered slowly through the splitting crowd, getting closer and closer to where she didn't want to be. She couldn't even look the condemned in the eye, knowing the brutal details of their impending deaths.

Dawn dropped the blade, the sound of it clanging to the banquet floor like a pin drop in silence.

"You're the damn devil," she muttered as he watched from his throne with crossed legs. Had he always been so deranged, she wondered. "You'll have to find another can opener. I refuse."

Making her way back toward the stage, she shook her head in distaste. She didn't like this side of him. He'd have to pull his head out of his sadistic ass and fuck off somewhere because this was going entirely too far. "Why are you doing this? To prove a point?"

"No, bump that," she retorted. "Where's Julip?"

"It's rude to make us wait," he taunted, still finding entertainment in the scenario he caused.

Dawn nodded. She knew how to wipe that haughty look from his mug.

The prince's light expression faded, and from the corner of her eye, Dawn could see Deanna shake her head, no. Do not make him angry. Just go with it, she'd said, but Dawn couldn't do that. In this moment, there was not an ounce of backdown in her body. She wasn't a murderer or a torturer, and just thinking of what Julip was going through as everyone went on with their festivities was becoming more and more unbearable.

"What did you do to him," she demanded to know.

"Your traitorous beloved is rotting in the dungeon where he belongs. If you're so interested, you can keep him warm in his cell."

"Let him GO," Dawn demanded with authority. Everyone near her stepped back. Deanna cleared her throat aggressively, but Dawn could no longer be contained.

"Is that... an order?"

Dawn looked to the crowd. As thirsty as they'd been moments ago, suddenly, they didn't see her. "Did he compel everyone in this room? For a group of undead, y'all are a little too docile for me. One of your own is being tortured for no other reason than your spoiled brat of a prince is lost in his forever pubescent feelings! That could easily be you or your partners."

It was so quiet that she could've literally heard a pin drop.

"How are you all okay with this," she groaned, eyeing everyone in the vicinity. Frustration boiled over as she pointed aggressively to the rack of men. "And this shit? This is some depraved shit! There are better ways to exist, not like brainless animals with no sense or self-control."

"Stab him."

Dawn picked up the pristine blade from the floor in a smooth motion and drove it swiftly into one man's thigh deep enough for him to groan past the gag and bleed. In shock, she tried to comprehend what she'd just done. Her body had moved on its own before she could realize.

"Again."

Her two hands trembled in their effort to stop themselves. She looked to the prince as sweat beaded on her forehead from the intense physical and mental strain. When he didn't move a centimeter, she pulled the blade from the man's thigh and plunged it in the opposite thigh even deeper, hitting bone. Her small cry of revulsion tremored as the man groaned in agony, sweat falling up his purplish neck and face. Dawn gagged as the blood touched her skin triggering those same intense memories as before. She couldn't look.

"I think you're under the impression that my kingdom is a democracy... Again," N'Jadaka ordered.

The knife sunk into the man's abdomen, and Dawn's knees buckled with the weight of what she was doing. The slick sound of the blade entering flesh, mixed with agonizing grunts, was torture to her ears. She was going to physically be sick.

"STOP THIS," Deanna shrieked as warm crimson spilled down Dawn's forearm. She was seconds from disemboweling a man as her arms shook violently.

"Bring me the blade."

With no control over her body at all, Dawn yanked the knife from the man's gaping stomach, hearing the queasy sound once more. His blood trickled down into a crystal vase as she walked robotically through the parted crowd and up the short column of stairs to the throne. N'Jadaka held out his palm, and she placed the handle of the bloodied blade into it.

"Thank you," his head tilted, "For the wonderful show. Dawn, is it?" His brow raised. "Huli, I don't believe our guest is hungry tonight. Please escort her back to her quarters."

"So I could be in the dungeon with you," sbe heard suddenly. "No thanks."

Just like that and all at once, Dawn was released from her prior compulsions. The haze broke, and Dawn plunged into the icey deep of all the bad and unsavory memories. There were gaps in time. Where had she been for the past year? It felt like she was just waking up from a dream into a nightmare.

Ejected and carried out, she didn't protest when she was locked in her room because her healthy sense of fear was back full-fledged. Instead, she scrubbed her hands and arms in the bathroom over and over until rage took over. The anger, frustration, and fear were too much to bear at once. She smashed a vase of fresh purple flowers that had been left and threw herself across the bed, falling gradually into an angry sleep where she still couldn't escape the rapidly returning memories. There was no reprieve.

"I followed you to death, you can't even follow me to the dungeon?"

"I wouldn't follow you to the kitchen."

Dawn woke gradually to the sound of two bickering voices.

"Why would I? I didn't get you there."

"You didn't get me out, either. Dawn did."

Dawn's eyes popped open. "Julip?" She sat straight to grab his arm, making sure he was really there, no clear words forming. "Are you- Why would-"

"Don't strain your brain, you wouldn't understand," Julip sighed, sinking next to her so close that the entire side of his body was touching hers. "Don't talk. Listen."

"I was wrong," Deanna admitted, a plan hatching in her mind as she locked eyes with the confused Dawn. "You're not still compelled, are you? Wake up, girl. Keep up."

Dawn had unknowingly missed much in her compelled state. According to Deanna, part of the effect of someone being compelled was that it was like communicating with a brick wall. Dawn had simply filtered out parts of the earlier conversations that would have triggered her sooner. Now, she needed to catch up. There had been talk in the palace and movements leading to Julip's release.

"Things aren't as we originally believed," Deanna smirked. She had to start from the beginning.

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