『 ↳✧･ﾟ A/N: This is probably the longest, most personal fic I have posted to this day. This revolves around religion, which I understand it's a sensitive subject sometimes. If religion (Catholicism) triggers you in any way, shape, or form, feel free to skip this one. Based on my current low point in life and words I've received throughout the years due to my lack of belief.
I’ve never been fond of the Church. The Catholic Church at least.
I grew up in a Catholic family; I went to a Catholic school for the first years of my education. I believed, I was devoted. I kneeled and prayed, and submitted myself. All because I used to believe God would answer my prayers, but somewhere down the line that faded.
I stopped going to church, I stopped saying his name in prayers. I stopped asking for things because he never listened, and it made me angry. Even more so, as I grew and people tried to make me turn back to being catholic.
But if I’m honest, deep down, I still look for it in the darkness. For salvation.
Summary: After you suffer a miscarriage, it feels like the entire world is ending and nothing will ever be the same.
Genre: Comfort/hurt with angst
Word Count: 2.8K
Trigger warning:Miscarriage, child loss, depression, mentions of stillborn baby and all the effects that come with life after pregnancy.
A/N:I know I have requests waiting to be written, but this idea keeps buzzing around my head like a fly which leads me to believe that there's someone out there struggling with this. If you need it, I hope this finds you and I'm sorry because this is a different kind of hurt. Requests shall continue after this one, I promise.
_ _ _
People always talk about the pregnancy glow. They talk about the radiant skin and bright eyes. The aura of happiness surrounding the mother and the pep in their step. There’s a joy in bringing a new life into the world, but they don’t talk about what happens when it doesn’t work out.
Laying on the floor of the nursery, you couldn’t understand why. Why did people get to bring a new life into the world, but not you? Your baby never got to see the way the world looked outside the womb. There were no colors and no sounds. Not the gentleness of a mother’s voice or the warm cradle from the father.
Miscarriages didn’t happen to everyone, but it happened to you. After excruciating stomach cramps and bleeding, you went to the hospital. The worst part? You already knew. You knew something was wrong, you were just hoping the motherly instincts were wrong. You were hoping it was just your nerves.
Minho: Well I don't go to therapy, but on Saturdays I smoke a lot of weed and give my cat some catnip, and we talk about life. It's basically the same thing.
the wedding ceremony the king and queen, your parents, had arranged had been a blur to you. despite many different royals, many different town’s people attending what was supposed to be your day, the happiest day of your life, you couldn’t remember anything of it. you had little memory of your new husband promising to be with you to death, a perfect mask of a smile painted across his face, pearly whites and dimples on display for everyone to see, for everyone to believe.
your mask, on the other hand, had started to crack - the mask you had perfected everyday, for years, had started to slip, it had started to fall apart and you couldn't find the energy to glue it back together, to catch it before the kingdom, the world, saw what and who you really were. the day you left him, you weren't prepared to pretend anymore.
despite the happy aura within the room, you sat watching the people, your people, dance and enjoy the festivities with a blank expression, and sad, tired eyes. your husband, chan, leaned beside you, smile on his face, "i can see you aren't able to enjoy the festival for our alliance." his whisper was hot against your ear, "i'd like to give you a few moments to yourself - i'm not a monster, please, do what you must."
once he pulled away, you turned to face him - studying him, trying to work out his motives. his smile was there, eyes bright filled with the stars, whatever he had planned you couldn't figure out, "please, tell me about him later," how he knew, you didn't care - you couldn't care not with him allowing you to see, to be with the one you loved.
gown in your hand, you raced down the halls, down the path, right to the stables. "jeongin," you breathed. at the sound of your voice, he turned - shock creeping up over his face. he dropped what he was doing and slowly walked over to you, almost as if he didn't believe you were real, "my love," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. his warm hand, softly finding purchase upon your cheek.
"what're you doing here, princess," he muttered, resting his forehead against yours. "or should i say, my queen?" you closed your eyes, allowing your tears to escape, wetting the tip of his thumb - "do not cry, my love, i am here."
you opened your eyes, leaning into the palm of his hand - finally freeing your hands of the gown, not caring if it got tainted by the dirt, wanting to hold your loving instead, "i have missed you." you cried, despite his words, the emotions being too much, finally weighing down on you. "he is kind, and he knows. he allowed me here, allowed me a few moments with you." you searched jeongin's face, only finding a smile, warm and light.
"he will treat you well, my queen." he hummed, resting his forehead against yours, moving his hands to your waist, wanting to hold you close, to hold you tight incase it was the last time. "good rumours have been spreading since his arrival."
"you could treat me better," was all you could mutter, moving to rest against his shoulder - having your first dance with the stable boy, rather than the new king.
jeongin laughed, swaying you gently humming a small tune, "maybe in love, but he could care for you better, in many ways i cannot." you didn't speak after that, allowing yourself a moments peace to be with the one you loved, to hold him close after so long - to speak with him after so long. whatever motive your husband had, was in the back of your mind, you could deal with the consequences later.
all you knew right now was that, despite being married - your heart would beat for jeongin.
growing up as the princess to the kingdom of jinsko, vulnerability was never an option for you. a mask, to hide your emotions, your thoughts, to hide you, was something you had to wear often, it was something you weren’t allowed to take off unless you were in the comfort of your own bedroom, or the stables. the stables which homed the stable boy, yang jeongin.
yang jeongin was a beautiful young man, a beautiful young man that saw you, for you. jeongin was your safe space, your vulnerability. yang jeongin was the love of your life.
that’s why, deep within the night, you were against jeongin. his kisses upon your neck as his arms wrapped around your waist. “jeongin, i..” you tried, but you couldn’t get any words out, dying within your throat.
“you’re so perfect, princess,” he whispered between kisses, his hands moving across your body, touching, caressing, squeezing. “sculpted perfectly by the gods.” his kisses moved up from your neck, to your cheek until he spun you around and planted his kisses upon your lips.
“i need to tell you something, jeongin,” you finally got a word in, stepping back from his advances. you took in a deep breath, the words on the tip of your tongue, terrified to make an appearance. “..i am.. to be wed.”
jeongin blinked at you, processing your words. “get out.” his previous warm, seductive tone turned cold and bitter in a matter of seconds. he pointed to the entrance of the stables before trying to get back to the work he was doing before you entered.
“it is not my choice, jeongin, please,” you grabbed onto his arm, pleading for him to hear you out, hoping your next words would change something, “the king and queen, they are forcing this man upon me for peace, i don’t want to marry him!”
“i said get out.”
he shoved you off, but you perused anyways, trying to get him to hear you out. you wanted nobody but him, he was the only person that made you feel like you, “my love, please.”
“do NOT call me that” jeongin turned and shouted at you, his eyes that once held nothing but love for you were void of any emotion besides anger, “i am nothing but a slave that you decided to play with.” he shoved you off of him once more, with a stronger force than last time causing you to stumble and fall, dirt smearing across the back of your gown. “i am nothing but a pawn to you, clearly.”
you felt tears sting against your lash line, threatening to fall but you wouldn’t let them — not after he has removed your right to be vulnerable within this space, “i love you.” your own tone of voice was hard, as you stood up, gathering dirt under your nails and across your palms, “if i were up to me, i would marry you. if were up to me, we’d become the king and queen of this kingdom and rule it together.” you walked towards him, every point you made was a hit against his chest, nothing but anger fuelling your words, “if it were up to me, i’d love you until the day i die.”
jeongin grabbed your wrists, and only then did you realise you had let the tears fall. you had allowed him to see your vulnerability, because he was your home. your safe space. “but because of the current king and queen, i am not allowed to love you freely like i wish. so forgive me, for the choice i have not made, but was decided against my will.” a small sob escaped your lips and you felt jeongin’s hands upon your cheeks, wiping away the continuous flow of tears, “i will love you, jeongin, even when i am married, even when i am queen. i will never stop, not even on my deathbed.”
his lips were on your in an instant, desperate, as if asking for you to prove to him that what you were claiming was true. so you kissed him back with that passion, and anger that fuelled your words previously, missing jeongin’s own tears falling.
you were a beautiful, young woman, who saw jeongin, for jeongin. you were his safe space, your vulnerability. you were the love of yang jeongin’s life.
