The night held them in a loving embraced. They were the darkness and all the life it held. Feared and forgotten warriors of old. Not good, not bad, but somewhere in the grey.
BTS X READER | based/ inspired of Ryan Kirks Nightblade trilogy. You DON'T...
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Stillness came as the storm suddenly quelled. Gravity was once more joyfully obeyed.
The floor and the ceiling merged into one as the (y/n)s eyes focused on unfocused on nothing.
She had managed to not cry through the breakdown, but it was only a small victory when she had spent the creeping hours dry heaving and trying to breathe.
As (y/n) moved to get up from the ground, a wave of nausea and dizziness crashed in her head. She stumbled a bit as colours danced in her eyes. She rubbed them clear and caught her balance. As her hand dragged across her face, she felt the imprint of the woven material across her cheek. How long had she been lying there? Time had seemed to slip away.
Her feet carried her out of the now dreadful tent. The cool air was refreshing on her hot skin. Outside was dark, the only light from the lanterns dotted around the place. The sky was dark.
It was quiet, eerily so.
Her tummy rumbled, but the kitchen was closed at this hour, so she would have to go hungry tonight. She sighed and began to pick her way through the maze of tents to her own.
Now that she had calmed down, she could think about her options. Maybe her father showing up wouldn't be so bad. If he was helping the war effort, it was helping prevent her demise. It was probably worth pulling him aside and speaking to him, explaining that she was no longer who she once was. Then she could officially draw a line over her old life.
Or at least her conscience would be clear before she died. Maybe that had been the actual trigger for her breakdown, not Hoseok or her father but the promise of death handing over her head.
(y/n) had been doing her best not to think about it, but it was not hard to see when everything pointed in that direction.
To state it simply, it was a high price to level the island.
A few moons before (y/n) had left the hut, a group of nightblades had fled to the mainland. They had joined the Second kingdoms army. Tenchi could tell her how many, but her condition was to kill them all. He said they would rather have only her knowledge about their location than a dozen many bitter warriors. The second part of the condition was to make sure Akira became King, he liked nightblades, and the island knew that. Tenshi wanted him, King, he never gave a reason why, but she had to make it happen.
If the terms were not met, (y/n) had been promised an inevitable death.
It was scary. (y/n) hadn't quite registered how bad it could get.
No one in the third kingdom thought they could win. (y/n) has already resorted to her last hope, and there was no telling if anything good would come of the seven boys being here.
It was all suddenly tumbling down around her. The reality of her situation was becoming more and more apparent. Just like a few hours ago, she felt a wave of panic. Though, this time it was more violent. It wasn't loneliness or desperation - it was fear.
