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Of Ruin: Chapter 13 | KTH

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Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

Section Warnings: language, kissing, we are jumping straight into smut lol, nip stim, clit stim, dry humping, fingering, oral (f. receiving), uhhhh fang play? lolol pls do not perceive me, penetrative sex, love confessions during sex oops lol, biting/feeding during sex but its consensual on all parts, kind of sort of subspacey at the end with help from vampire venom, taehyung pov for a minute, drinking and drunkenness, hurt feelings wc: 6k

“You must have been terrified.”

“No. Not once I knew it was you.”

To emphasize this, you loop one arm around the back of his neck, drawing him closer, kissing him harder. Everything you’ve been holding back seems to burst from you - his faith in you, your trust in him, the love you’ve been tucking away, all of it. You kiss him feverishly, trying to translate every bit of it into the way you press against him, open for him.

He licks into your mouth and you groan quietly, wanting more, more of him, more of his mouth, more of his hands, just more. He responds to your sound with a pleased grunt of his own, and he slides one large hand around your waist, pressing against your lower back, pressing your hips harder against his own.

You slide your tongue against his and he brings his hand up your back and wrap his hand firmly around the back of your neck to keep you close. You let out a tiny whine, letting your hands wander up his chest over the thin cloth of the shirt he wears. You pass your hands over his shoulders, down his back, holding tight as your head spins - from the kiss, or from the events (and blood loss) of last night, you aren’t sure.

You murmur his name when the kiss breaks, and he responds by capturing your lips again, sweetly, then pulling back to look down at you.

“What is it?” he murmurs, voice as deep as the ocean.

You strain upwards, trying to find his mouth again, your right hand gathering the material of his shirt’s hem and bunching it in your fist. You slide your other hand into the gap you’ve made, practically gasping with delight as your palm slides along his cool, bare skin for the first time. He shivers beneath your touch, then reaches between his shoulder blades to grab the neck of his shirt. You let go of the hem, allowing him to tug it off and over his head before he bends to kiss you more.

Pleased, you press your mouth to his gladly, letting your hands explore up and down his ribs, over his pecs, down his stomach, around to his back, feeling him move and respond beneath each touch. You can feel him beneath you, responding to each kiss and every caress, and you tighten the grip of your thighs on either side of his own, as if holding on tighter can urge him even closer.

“So warm,” he murmurs against your mouth, letting out a quick sigh as one of your hands works to memorize the slope of his jaw.

You still want more. You use both hands and card your fingers through his hair, curling them to hold his roots, and pull lightly. He moans into your open mouth, the sound so pretty it makes your toes curl. You do it again, pressing your hips against his as you do, trying to egg him on.

He’s behaving too much, keeping his hands on your waist, your hair, not daring to toe the line even as you leap over it. You don’t want him to behave.

“I want to feel you,” you breathe, pressing your forehead to his as you both take a second to catch your breath. “Please.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice; he finds the hem of your shirt and pulls. You lift your arms so he can slide it over your head. His eyes follow the path of newly bared skin - up over your stomach, your chest, your face, up to your arms.

You reach back to unclasp your bra, tossing it away, but Taehyung isn’t watching. His eyes have instead caught on the scabby marks on your upper arm, and then on the inside of each wrist. He reaches for your right arm, pulls it closer, examining the place where his very first bite had pierced you.

“Did it hurt?” he asks sorrowfully, brushing a thumb lightly over the reddened skin around the bite.

“No,” you say, but it isn’t quite true, so you try again. “I mean, yes, but after a few seconds it was…”

“What?” he whispers, even as he pulls your wrist towards his mouth, brushes the healing bite with his lips. Your breath stills in your throat, but he only kisses the spot, waiting for your answer.

“Once the venom hit,” you admit, a little embarrassed, “it felt… kind of good, actually. Like being a little drunk.”

He lets out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “That’s how it feels when we drink,” he tells you. “The want, the thirst, it’s lessened… but it also gives a sort of high. It’s addicting - you’re addicting.”

He punctuates this thought by pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the fang-marks on your wrist, as you think that he must be mistaken - between the two of you, it’s him that’s addicting: powerful and beautiful, thrilling and dangerous.

He moves to kiss you again, licking against your lips until you open for him again, hands skimming along your now-bare sides, thumbs coming dangerously close to your chest before sliding back down. You shiver, grinding down into him, making an encouraging sound low in your throat.

He finally slides a hand where you want it, caressing and gently kneading your breast, letting his thumb circle the sensitive nipple before flicking over the top of it as it hardens beneath his touch. You keen, the sensations tingling and magical, pressing harder into his touch.

He abandons your chest and slides his hand down your arm, still kissing you languidly, deeply. His fingers rest against your wrist, and the wound starts to tingle. You recognize the sensation and realize he’s healing you as he kisses you, fixing each broken spot he finds, undoing the damage he’d wreaked on your body the night before.

He does the same to the wounds on your upper arm and the opposite wrist, then goes back to exploring what sounds he can pull from you as he lowers his mouth to your breast. He hums happily as he kisses, licks, and nips his way around the full bottom of one before making his way back up to your nipple, taking it between his lips and flicking his tongue against it repeatedly. You feel your eyes roll back, your core clenching in response to the feeling of him.

“God, Taehyung, please,” you beg. You don’t even know what you’re begging for - more, just more.

At your plea, he pulls himself back up and kisses you so hard that your head spins. He slides a hand, behaving no more, down your stomach and around your waist, gripping you tightly as he pulls you tight against his trapped cock, which is solid beneath you, begging for attention. You gasp, hips jerking with the sudden friction, breaking the kiss.

He releases your waist and his hands travel around to grab full handfuls of your ass, fingers tightening there as his lips work their way down your jaw and towards your throat. You groan in pleasure and excitement, feeling yourself getting wetter at an alarming rate.

“Smell fucking amazing,” he murmurs, lips against your throat, and you feel your whole body heat at the words. He holds you, mouth pressed to the flushed skin of your throat, pressing closed-mouth kisses to it as his fingers slip beneath your waistband, sliding down the bare skin of your ass and seeking the heat and wetness between your legs.

He toys with you, teasing your hole from behind, sliding easily through the slickness waiting for him. He doesn’t enter you, as you’re still pressed too tightly against him, rocking against his clothed length. Even still, you whine at the sensation of his fingers exploring what parts of you they can.

He growls, and you shiver. He lifts you in one easy motion, pulling his hand from inside your leggings to settle you down onto your back. He presses his long body alongside yours and slips his hand beneath your waistband - properly, from the front this time. He runs his fingers through the arousal he finds only once before plunging two fingers into you just as his mouth finds the tender place his fangs had pierced into your neck the night before. You moan so loudly it echoes through the room, the sound long and tortured as your body adjusts to the stretch of his digits and as the tender wound on your neck tingles at the pressure of his lips and tongue as he kisses and licks over the healing punctures.

“God,” you breathe, rocking against his fingers, trying to work them deeper. You can hear them squelching, and that should be embarrassing, but you can’t care. Not when he’s pulling his sticky fingers out of your leggings and rolling back over top of you, pressing his still-clothed length against your mound, his mouth firmly attached to the marks on your neck, tongue caressing the spots as if he could convince just a bit more blood out of them.

He ruts against you mindlessly, like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, seeming to be fully focused on your neck, like he’s forgotten about relieving his aching cock when faced with the promise of your fresh blood. His hands are splayed and pressing into the mattress on either side of you, holding himself up just above you.

He slides his mouth from the wound to the unblemished skin just slightly to the left, sucking deeply, no doubt pulling more blood to gather below the surface of your skin. A growl reverberates through him, but you feel no fear; he’s not the beast now, he’s yours - yours. You know he won’t hurt you.

He brings up a hand to caress your jaw. “Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, barely removing his lips from your neck enough to enunciate.

You close your eyes, sighing, letting every sensation wash over you. I want to be yours, you think, just the same as you are mine.

“You,” you say, only part of the truth.

His mouth finds yours again, his taste slightly coppery, and then he’s pulling at your waistband. You hurry to assist, lifting your hips up and using both hands to push the material over your ass and down your legs, kicking both leggings and underwear to the side as quickly as you can.

“You, too,” you say petulantly, and he smiles against your lips.

He lifts up to untie his own trousers. When he’s free of them, you expect him to settle himself back as he was, but he surprises you by scooting down the bed and gripping your thighs firmly, pressing them apart, opening you reverently. You shiver as the room’s cool air, and his hungry gaze, find your exposed core.

“Taehyung,” you keen, not sure if you’re urging him on or questioning him away.

He tears his eyes away from your glistening pussy, gaze rising to find yours, hungry. His pupils are so blown out that for a second you jolt with alarm, thinking you’re seeing the black Infracti eyes of the beast.

“Can I?” he asks, and you’re reminded of last night, the way he asked before each bite, the way that despite instinct and thirst driving him to bring his mouth to each spot, he still waited for permission.

“Yes,” you breathe, head falling back against the mattress, as if you’re physically incapable of watching as he grips your thighs again and pulls himself closer, burying his face in your heat and licking his first stripe from bottom to top.

You let your breath out between gritted teeth as he does this again and again, tongue dipping in, stretching your entrance for only a second before sliding up to pass firmly over your clit before retracting altogether. It’s a slow, dizzying torture, and you find yourself shaking slightly each time he repeats the series of motions.

Eyes screwed shut, fingers digging into the blankets beneath you, you suck in a breath and try to relax, try to open your legs wider for him, even as the tremors roll through your lower body gently, building up to something fiery and explosive.

He stops his repetitive torture, flattening his tongue and rubbing firmly over and around your clit, the onslaught so intense that your hips jerk and twitch away until he reaches up and holds them still with firm fingertips. You whine and moan as he works you, powerless to shift away from the onslaught of his tongue and lips. He groans when you do, his dulcet voice weaving with your own wordless pleas, his hips undulating slowly against the bed beneath him as he feasts.

You breathe his name, needing reprieve, needing more, needing to unclench and inhale, the sound morphing into a low moan. He seems to hear your unarticulated request, pulling off and moving to press kisses to the insides of your thighs, the juncture, your spasming entrance as you gasp for breath.

Then, his mouth moves, tongue slipping along your outer lips. The sensation changes, alarm bells sounding in your head several beats before your buzzy brain can process why. It’s sharp, and your breath rattles to a stop, muscles tensing in anticipation, as Taehyung slides the tip of his left fang up one side of you, pressing it just hard enough against you that you can feel the sting even when he’s moved on to a higher place.

“T-Tae,” you gulp, pulse thudding even harder than it was before, desperately aware of how close he is to biting you. He growls again, then licks over where his fang had trailed, soothing, before moving to the other side. Gently, slowly, he lets the tip of his sharp tooth press against you, and weaves a line from bottom to top with it. Your breaths come shallow - you’re afraid to move, lest you accidentally pierce yourself on him.

“You’re so, so good,” he groans, and you don’t know if he means for staying still, for letting him play, or if he’s talking about your taste, not your behavior. You whimper, still nervous - but the fear is exciting. He centers his mouth and places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing you to jerk under his hands again.

“Taehyung,” you whine, a plea and a complaint all at once. “Please.”

He heeds your tone, releasing you after one more kiss to the spot he’d been torturing. “Please what?” he asks, teasing, starting to climb back up your body, mouth working its way up the plane of your stomach, past your ribs, over your breasts, up your throat, and then kissing you again, heady and impassioned.

You’re shaky from the adrenaline released by his toying with you; you pull him close, his chest flush against yours, trying to find comfort in his solidness, hands clinging to his biceps as they flex above you. You can feel his cock, hard and heavy, brushing your inner thigh, and you shift, trying to get it closer to where you want it.

He growls when he feels himself slide easily up your slit, grinding frantically against you until he’s slicked up, too, then letting his head snag on your entrance.

His eyes find yours, asking the question that he doesn’t vocalize.

You answer wordlessly, too, lifting up to take the first inch of him, letting out a strangled sound as he follows your lead and pushes through your heat until his hips are flush with yours again.

You stay locked like this for just a moment, and you look up at him with adoration as your body adjusts, stretching to accommodate him.

“God,” he breathes above you, starting to move minutely, just barely shifting. “You’re so -.”

He doesn’t finish the thought, dipping his head down to kiss you again. He shelters you between his arms, his black hair swinging above you, casting his face in shadow, and he begins fucking into you in earnest.

You move with him, hands roaming his arms and back, hooking one leg around the backs of his thighs to draw him even closer. He feels amazing dragging away from your walls and slamming back in, feels amazing kissing you so deeply you could drown in it, feels amazing stroking your face with gentle hands that promise to honor you.

As you move together, each delicious slide causing your core to tighten and grip at him, it builds - fuller and more powerful until it’s crashing over you: the need to tell him.

“I love you,” you breathe. “I should have said it before.”

He rolls you easily in response to this, one arm tight around your back as he maneuvers you so you sit astride him, his cock managing to sink even deeper into you from this angle. You moan, eyes slipping closed, missing it as he reaches for your upper body, trying to pull you down into some semblance of an embrace, even as he fucks you steadily, not faltering for a second.

He kisses you sloppily, arms locking you against his chest, cock sliding in and out of you at a steady pace. One of his hands slides up your back and rests across your throat; you shiver at the contact, and then you feel the familiar tingling. He’s healing your neck, where he drank from you last night.

When he releases you, hands settling on your hips and helping to lift you up and pull you down, you sit back up, looking down at him. He looks so good spread out beneath you that it makes your core clench, which makes his hands on your hips tighten and a low grumble reverberate from his chest.

He squirms and sits upright, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss as soon as he’s close enough, huffing against your mouth happily when he gets what he wants. He tugs you down on his cock and you keen, whining deep in your throat as his tip kisses your cervix until he lets up.

“Fuck,” you manage, gasping for a new breath as the pain-pleasure ebbs. You’re close, you realize, as he kisses his way down the column of your throat, teeth grazing in places and then tongue soothing the scrapes. You rock against him, your hard nipples brushing his chest, your hands finding his hair again, and you know exactly what you want to push you over the edge.

“Taehyung,” you say, lips so close to his ear that you can see him shudder from the tickle, “I want…”

He spears you particularly hard, grunting, and you lose the thought for a second, letting your forehead drop to his shoulder.

“Want what?” he asks, breathless, fingers splayed over your waist. He watches the place where your bodies meet, distracted by the sight of his cock emerging from within you, shiny and sticky.

“Drink from me,” you beg, not lifting your head, not wanting to see his reaction.

“No,” he says, not looking up, not stopping his fluid strokes into your tight heat. “It’s too dangerous, especially like this - I might not be able to stop.”

“If you can control yourself through the curse, you can control yourself now,” you argue, swiveling against him a little, relishing the feel of how deeply he’s touching you. “Please. It wasn’t you last night - I want it to be you.”

It’s not quite the whole of what you mean; if you weren’t split open by his cock right now maybe you could explain better than it felt like you’d been intimate with him without his presence, that you wanted a chance to share that intimacy with him, now, now that you’d told him how you feel about him.

But he seems to understand. His strokes slow but don’t stop as he tips your head up with the knuckle of his pointer finger, looking deep into your eyes as if looking for the right answer within them.

“Please,” you say, and you watch him break.

He pushes himself deep within you, then presses his face to the side of your neck he hadn’t touched yet. You rock against him, feeling his hard length push against each sensitive spot, colors exploding behind your eyelids as you move.

“Please,” you whimper again, because the anticipation is worse than the pain will be, and you want him.

He can’t resist, not with you begging, and he presses his fangs to your sweaty skin, then pierces you swiftly. The pain overtakes you, worse than you remember from the night before. You cry out loudly, eyes squeezing shut, fingernails raking down his shoulder blades, your whole body squirming and fighting instinctually to get away. He holds you tightly, and all your squirming does is push him deeper inside you, all those spots lighting up behind your eyelids again, causing your cry of pain to trail into a loud moan.

The venom hits you as Taehyung starts pounding into you faster than he has this whole time, his arms tight around your back, fangs still lodged in your throat, a growl ripping through him as your blood hits his tongue and your body tightens and twitches around his length.

The floating high hits you as your body reacts to his new, breakneck pace and you let out a mindless wail as you pulse and squeeze around him in rhythmic waves. It lasts and lasts, and you think you might trip straight into a second orgasm as he holds you even tighter, removes his mouth from your neck long enough to gasp your name as he pumps his release deep inside you.

After, he holds you still, hands petting your hair, smoothing down your back, until your heartbeat calms under his hands. Then, he lowers you to lay down side by side.

You float, aware of only snippets of sensation - the pulsing between your legs taking ages to settle, aftershocks causing the muscles in your legs to tense and release. Your heartbeat slows. The well of blood to the wound in your neck, Taehyung’s gentle tongue still pressed to the spot, taking what your body willingly gives but not pulling from it.

Slowly, you come back to yourself.

“How do you feel?” he asks, perhaps a bit apprehensively.

“I need to eat, shower, and sleep, in that order,” you murmur, eyelids heavy. “But otherwise… I can’t complain.”

In the end, his guards keep the corridors clear as he carries you back to his rooms. It’s a bit embarrassing, you think, but you’re way too weak to walk there, so there’s no arguing the point. He orders a full breakfast spread from the kitchens, sends Satuel to your rooms to get you something comfortable to wear, and runs a hot bath in a tub so deep you’d honestly call it a small swimming pool.

When your stomach is full and your body clean, you burrow under the blankets in his ridiculously opulent bed, body thrumming with happiness and oxytocin and all those other happy chemicals that come after good sex and good food.

“I suppose I should thank you,” Taehyung murmurs as his fingers trace patterns over your shoulder. He lays beside you, on top of the blankets, waiting for you to be claimed by sleep. “I got a whole night of sleep last night. My first in months.”

You hum, stretching, halfway to sleep already. “I think you have other things to thank me for,” you tease, the words falling heavily from your lips as you’re pulled under.

You feel his hand, gentle on your throat, drawing near the bite mark he’d made this morning, the one he’d made as himself, at your request.

“No,” you say strongly, suddenly awake. “Don’t heal that one.”

He balks. “People will know.”

“Good,” you say firmly. “Let them know I’m yours.”

Let them know you’re mine, you think, and then you only know sleep.

—

Taehyung watches you sleep for longer than he’d admit to anyone. He watches your face, calm and smooth in sleep. He thinks of how he has to bite back smiles when you get fired up about something, your eyes narrowing and mouth tightening.

He thinks of the look of quiet determination you get when you’re casting, when you’re working with the magic that naturally lives within you.

For all of history, Infracti and venefici have lived together, helped each other. Long ago, the heir to Infracticus’s throne would be purposely matched with the venefici’s strongest magician - the Highest. Venefici would leave their homes, live and practice with the other magic-wielders, train and compete to be the best, to be given the honored title. It’s been hundreds of thousands of years since the days of those arranged unions, but Taehyung’s had that custom in his head for weeks now.

It makes him feel fated, like you were brought to him on purpose, his natural other half. The Highest to his hunter. The Priestess to his Blood-letter. His venefici, his witch, his bringer of humanity, his to protect.

Like in another lifetime, it would have always been you and him.

Loathe as he is to admit his father could be right about anything… he was right about you. You’re powerful, beautiful. You’re brave, surprisingly funny. Taehyung sees a lot of himself in you - in your bravado, in the way your words don’t always seem to match what you want to say, in the way you only find peace when you’re faced with the sea.

He loves you. He loves you, and he thinks you could be amazing here - thinks you’d be an amazing queen, thinks you could be happy in his palace by the ocean’s side.

But you had a whole life before, that you’d left on hold to come here and fix him. If he loves you, he thinks, then the right thing to do is to let you go back to that life. It isn’t right to keep you here, away from your family, away from your studies and your job, just because he wants you to. It isn’t fair to ask you to give up what you worked so hard for.

It is with these thoughts in mind that he presses a feather light kiss to your unfurrowed brow and makes his way out of his bedchamber into his main rooms, closing the door quietly behind him to let you sleep.

—

When you wake, you’re alone. You worry for a split second, then you hear his voice floating from further in his wing, and you relax.

You rouse yourself slowly, savoring the chance to take your time, to be alone with your thoughts in the comfiest bed you’ve ever experienced. A quick look around the room alights your attention on a bundle at the end of the bed; someone left clothes for you.

You do your best to make yourself presentable, and then follow the sound of voices and laughter into Taehyung’s main rooms.

You’re greeted with a sight you’ve never seen before: the group of young Infracti men seem to be having fun, just hanging out. Taehyung is lounging on one of the couches, ankles crossed and arms folded behind his head. Jimin is perched on the arm of the couch, currently doubled over in laughter so strong that he wheezes and clutches at Taehyung’s shin desperately. You also recognize the round-eyed Infracti who had attended the strategy meeting in the pub not that long ago - Jungkook. The other two you’ve never seen before, but they appraise you with interest as you step into the room.

Taehyung lights up like a Christmas tree when he spots you, sitting up so abruptly that he almost knocks Jimin from the couch.

He crows your name, and then calls to you, “Come! Make merry with me!”

You step forward with trepidation, looking around at the others for an explanation.

“His Majesty has been imbibing,” Jimin explains, straightening himself up. “But, yes, you should join us. Your time here has been very serious, and we’re determined to have a pleasant night now that the business is handled.”

“Business?” you echo, still making your way into the room by degrees. It does not escape you that if these Infracti are drunk, it may put you in a bit more danger than normal.

“You just missed Seokjin,” Taehyung explains, the words a bit loose. He waves a hand towards the door as if to indicate which way Seokjin left. “We were discussing matters of state.”

“While drunk?” you can’t help but ask.

Taehyung lets out one cold laugh, and then holds up an arm, making a space for your body to fill. As you make your way over, he muses, “Yes, it makes it less painful to stare the cold, hard future in the face that way.”

“That’s a bit grim,” Jimin remarks from behind you as you settle next to Taehyung’s torso, seated on the edge of the couch’s cushion.

“Justice is grim,” Taehyung declares dramatically, and you press your lips together, trying not to giggle. Then, he adds, “Especially when it’s coming for your own family. Or yourself.”

He flops back against the arm of the couch, reaches around you for his goblet. You can smell the wine as it passes by you.

“Do you want some?” Jimin has the presence of mind to ask, but you shake your head.

“Better not,” you say. “Is it even safe for me to be here right now, while he’s…?”

Taehyung sputters loudly in indignation. “What,” he demands, “you think I can control myself while I’m cursed but not when I’m inebra - ineba - ineeny - drunk?”

Your eyes widen in mirth, and you hiss at Jimin, “What did you do to him?”

Jimin laughs, shaking his head. “His Majesty did this to himself, I’m afraid. I think he’s been stressed.”

“Come on, little witch,” Jungkook says, playfully taunting, black eyes glinting. “Are you afraid? I thought you put people through walls.”

You eye him flatly. “I don’t want to mess up Maiesti’s pretty face,” you deadpan.

This gets a smile out of the others in the room. Beside you, Taehyung pats at his face thoughtfully but says nothing.

“You should all go,” he finally says, the words slow and lazy, head lolling back on the arm of the couch. “Come, now, begone.” He literally waves a hand at them as if they’re nothing but gnats.

“He’s brattier when you’re around,” Jimin tells you petulantly, as he rises. You start to follow, but Taehyung’s inhuman grip finds your wrist and tugs you back.

“Not you,” he murmurs, and there’s a hint of growl to it. A shudder rolls through you.

The others make their way past you, saying their goodbyes, and Taehyung tugs you by the wrist so that you fall over top of him, chest to chest. You think he’s going to pick up where you’d left off this morning, but instead he wraps his arms around your back and buries his face somewhere near your clavicle, eyes closed.

“You’re warm,” he murmurs.

You smile, feeling a rush of affection. “You’re cute,” you counter.

You feel his lips pout against your skin. “I’m not cute. ’M scary.”

“Sometimes you’re scary,” you agree lightly. “But not right now.”

He lets out an unhappy hum. “You’re scary sometimes,” he muses. He unburies himself, lets his head flop back to the arm of the couch. His eyes are still closed. “You’d be the best queen because everyone would be scared shitless of you.”

He’s let slip similar thoughts before, but never in a setting where you could sit with the words, consider the weight of them.

“I can’t tell if you mean that,” you admit, “or if you’re just…” Getting ahead of yourself, you finish the thought silently.

“Why wouldn’t I mean it?” he argues. He lets his arm drop over his face, his eyes hiding in the crook of his elbow. “I agreed when my father told me to court you, didn’t I? Wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t think…”

He mumbles the rest of this sentence into his arm, and you don’t try to catch it. You’re stunned, knocked breathless.

“Wait,” you say, the word dropping from you like a stone. “What?”

“Mm,” he says, like this is an answer, nodding his head minutely. “My parents were intrigued by your magical quotient. I, on the other hand, was intrigued by your-”

You’re barely hearing him. “Wait,” you interrupt, the word the only one you can grasp. “You… they asked you to court me because of my magic? And you… you… agreed?”

“Well, yes,” Taehyung huffs, frustrated. “I had to, or he wouldn’t have -”

“So,” you interrupt again, head spinning, “how much of it was… for his sake?”

Taehyung removes his arm from his face and looks at you in confusion, brows furrowing, lips pouting.

“Were you faking it?” you demand, feeling yourself spiraling but unable to stop it. “Was I just… a means to an end? An asset for the bloodline?”

He winces, which is enough of an answer for you. You push away from him, and he’s too slow in his drunken state to catch you in time. You stand, backing away.

“I have to go,” you say hollowly, already looking at the door.

“No,” he says, desperately, sitting up and reaching a hand towards you. Your heart breaks another degree; part of you wants to go back to his embrace and tell him never mind, you aren’t fighting, everything is okay. You force yourself to back away, making your way around the couch.

He watches you go, mouth turned down and a hand following your path. “My love,” he breathes, “please don’t.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head, half to yourself, half to remind yourself not to give in. “No, I need to. I need to think. You should… drink some water and get some sleep… or whatever it is your people do to avoid a hangover.”

You open the door and slip through, but you’re weak. You’re weak, and you look back over your shoulder, and so as the door closes you get one last view of Prince Taehyung, watching you go, his eyes now a deep, fathomless black.

—

You move in a daze. Namjoon is closed in his own room when you reach your rooms, so there’s no one to stop you as you toss a few essentials into a small bag, no one to witness it when you tell Satuel that if she doesn’t take you to the Ostium then you’ll walk there yourself.

“His Majesty will be very displeased,” she points out as you walk.

“His Majesty has a long, long life ahead of him during which he can get over it,” you bite back.

The Infracti working the Ostiums - both the one in Infracticus and the one above, in your city - nod politely at you as you pass through, checking your identification, but don’t say much.

In fact, no one speaks to you again until after you’ve climbed a familiar, worn set of stairs, pushed open a squeaky office door.

Dr. Kim stares at you like you’re a ghost, an apparition drifting up through his carpeting.

“You,” he says, eyes wide with disbelief, “are not supposed to be here.”

<- Prev |

LA LA LA BYEEEE!!!!!!!!!

#clowning 🤡#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts supernatural au #bts royal au #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst

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pamzn · 2 months

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just 2seok making yoongi smile so big 🥹 cr for and to @namchyoon

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pamzn · 2 months

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Boox Palma??? What do you think??? Is it worth it???

#help a girl out

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pamzn · 2 months

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love wins all

#cutest boy in the world #taehyung

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pamzn · 2 months

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240218 Big Hit's Tweet & Weverse Post

[#호비의편지] 📬 Letter from #jhope #호비가아미에게전하는_편지 💌 오늘만큼은 우리 모두 hope day~💜💜 #To_be_continued_613 #추억다람쥐의_추억상자오쁜 #Jㅔ이홉이미리써둔홉데이 #홉체국에서온편지 #호비의마음 #호비레터

[#LetterFromHobi] 📬Letter from #jhope #ALetter_toARMY_fromHobi💌

Let's all have a hope day today~💜💜

#To_be_continued_613 #MemorySquirrels_MemoryBoxIsOpen #WrittenInAdvanceByJHopeForHopeDay #Letter_From_HobiPost #HobisHeart #HobiLetter

(See images for the typeset versions of the letter translation.)

Text Translation:

It's my birthday! 2024 has 18/02 as well,,,, There's probably lots of people wishing me this year too, right??,,,,I hope so, at least hahaha,,, At this point, just reaching out and telling you how I'm doing would probably be the best! You guys, I'm adapting so well and I'm doing soooo great!! Still staying healthy…hahahah I remember always getting lots of good wishes from you guys on my birthday. There have also been birthdays that I've spent with you! It's a bit sad that I have to reach out to you a bit differently this year because I'm serving in the military,,, But still, my heart at least is thinking of you and misses you!! Because you are all here, I have been able to receive so many wishes, and my birthday has been such a meaningful day. And so I'd like to sincerely express how grateful I always am for you!! I love you, let's all have a Hope day

#LetterFromHobi #HobiLetter 240218

https://weverse.io/bts/media/3-151159162

Text Translation:

To ARMY

#LetterFromHobi #HobiLetter #Letter_From_HobiPost #Aletter_toARMY_fromHobi

Trans cr; Aditi | Typeset cr; XPXOXD @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

#😍😍😍😍

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BTS WORLD TOUR 'LOVE YOURSELF: SPEAK YOURSELF' IN SÃO PAULO (2019) cr: 0613data

#baby’s bday #jhope

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pamzn · 2 months

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🐿️🐥

cr. 0613data, namuspromised

#happy hobi day 😍😍😍💥

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pamzn · 3 months

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Behind the Scenes with Jimin | VOGUEMEETS (5/10)

#park jimin #aaaaa 💕💕💕

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pamzn · 3 months

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hello friends! so...i'm freaking out lol I'M LOVING THIS SERIES TOO MUCH and i need to share my reading experience with y'all

READ THE CHAPTERS FIRST! SPOILERS COMING AT YOU RIGHT NOW...WHOOPS!

Prince Taehyung, like you, had been paralyzed by the magic at work, had been unable to do anything but watch as your eyes rolled back, as your lungs stopped taking in air, as your heart - that he could always hear loud and clear from rooms away - stuttered and gasped nearly to a stop.

In the darkness following that incident, you were sure you felt someone brush their hand over your head, soothing, but when you woke again you were in your own bed, alone again.

staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you're hurting meeee!!! come back little prince WE NEED CUDDLES

“I know you might not want to leave… considering everything between you and the prince.”

oohhh 👀👀👀

Besides, it sounds like he already knows.

i think we all know that we know...

Namjoon shifts, presses his lips together. “We should focus on the curse,” he says finally. “Everything else… there’ll be time for that, after.”

JOONIE!!!!!!!!!! WHY ARE YOU THE RESPONSIBLE ONE!?

Prince Taehyung comes to see you that evening.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASS!!! SMOOCH!!!

“Two days,” you say firmly. It’ll give you time to get your strength back, to walk around your rooms until you can do so without needing to sit down. “Two days, and then we need to try again.”

He smiles sideways at you, something sly in it. “I’m not used to being given orders,” he admits.

I'M ON FUCKING FIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! KUHFIEHNFKEHIUFHEIHRIFHEIFHIJERHIOFEFJOLJEIHWUFERIOJFIUGEUIRFHEHFIREUGIFRHEFIE

Like his lips on the back of your hand, you don’t know what it means.

BABYGIRL...YES, YOU DO!!!! YOU KNOW, HE KNOWS AND WE KNOW!!

“Focus on the curse,” Namjoon repeats, although you didn’t ask him.

Sulkily, you tell Namjoon goodnight and head into your rooms. You’re too weak, still, to really practice, but you read spells and try to memorize their purpose until you fall asleep with the book open on your stomach.

“He wants to hunt,” you repeat emphatically. “If he smells me, he’ll follow.”

STFU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DO NOT.....

“Let me help,” you beg. “He’ll follow my scent, I know he will.”

Why is this so romatic???

He doesn’t even look like himself.

me eating everything...

“I know,” you whisper, watching his black eyes shine with fury. “I know you’re mad.”

“There are rooms here,” she tells you. “I can understand if you’re unable to sleep, but you should at least rest.”

our new bestie

“Thank you,” she says, and it startles you so much that you slip out of your focused disinterest, and you look at her. She continues, “Thank you for putting yourself in danger to save my son.”

...i hate this b*tch

You’re awakened by Taehyung bellowing. You lay there, eyes still closed, and listen to him yell. For some reason, a smile plays on your face.

“And you!” he yells, just continuing whatever line of shouting you’d apparently missed. This seems to be directed at Namjoon more than you, and you inch sideways away from the line of fire.

“Don’t think I’m ungrateful,” he interrupts, intently. Like he needs you to know. “Of course I am. But next time, God, use someone else as bait.”

“Namjoon next time,” you agree easily, nodding.

Your stomach turns; you don’t like the idea of being in the palace without him.

lock him in!!!!!!😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

“I just feel safer when I know you’re nearby.”

Namjoon lets out a sound like someone grabbed him by the esophagus and squeezed. “The archive of Lucrotio?” he echoes. “We can’t just walk in there, they’re sacred -”

“You can if I say you can,” Prince Taehyung interrupts.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 jkhdhkkjdsfkdskhdflkasljcfsdjlsvjndhilwshnfvedkvsn🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

“Yes,” Namjoon says emphatically, nodding strongly. “Yes, I want to go to the archives.”

He looks almost ashamed. “I was just thinking that… I may be walking into a delicate situation… if you accompanied me as my -” He cuts himself off, suddenly avoiding your gaze.

SAY AS MY GIRLFRIEND OR JUST SHUT UP DFENDOWFAFODWEJMOFIVNIEJGR

“I’d be honored to stay with you, Maiesti,” you say quietly.

You reach out quickly, your fingers snagging on Prince Taehyung’s. He pauses, turning to look at you, clearly surprised.

“The last time we were together -”

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD LEMME BREATHE, WOMAN!!!!! DJSIVNOIDJVOISJVOEFGIJVOIRJGVGEJVLFJDGIO

His face darkens. “Please,” he says, implores, the word leaving his mouth like a plea, “don’t ever do anything that dangerous again. I couldn’t bear it if… if something happened, if I were responsible…”

But your fingers are still tangled with his; neither of you pulled away after you’d grabbed for him.

IJOLIJJILJILJIILJIJLJIIJLILHDHVJNIOSDJVOFDJEVJSOIEVJOENWEOFPIOEHRVU NOEIFHRVOIJDOOPAOWEIFHVFUDO

Taehyung looks at you, something dark swimming across his features. “He might. With the right… persuasion. As I said… I’m working on it.”

what!!!!??? is the chapter over!??? that was so good!!!! i want to binge the whole thing again and again

Of Ruin: Chapter 10 || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

Section Warnings: injury / a shoulder being popped back in mentioned VERY briefly, language, fire, dangerous situations, tense situations with dangerous vampires wc: 5.2k

It takes you days to recover, and you piece together what happened bit by bit.

The curse had fought back - you’d known that as it was happening. It had climbed into you through the magical connection, like a thing alive, ready to corrupt whatever it touched.

You were mostly gone when Namjoon sprang into action and saved your life. He borrowed, used a death-magic spell he knew to sever the connection.

You’d hit the ground hard enough to dislocate your shoulder, apparently. The King and Queen had wanted to bring you to the Elders for healing, but Taehyung had argued, insisting that it was too risky to bring you through the palace to them, too risky to let them know you were even here.

“I can tend to her,” he’d said hotly, according to Namjoon’s recounting of events. “I can heal as well as any of those ancient dustbags.”

The first time you’d woken, in that luxurious bed, you’d been in Prince Taehyung’s own chambers.

Dansoo had been the one to set your shoulder right, stone-faced and unflinching when you’d screamed at the white-hot pain. In the darkness following that incident, you were sure you felt someone brush their hand over your head, soothing, but when you woke again you were in your own bed, alone again.

For a few days, you’re in and out. You start to stay awake longer, and you start asking questions about what had happened. It’s Namjoon who gives you answers, sitting on a wooden chair a few feet from your bed.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” you grumble. You woke up nearly six hours ago and you don’t feel the heavy darkness lingering at your edges - you think you’ll stay awake, this time.

“I have nothing else to do,” he jokes. “Can’t leave. Can’t take a walk. Can’t even work, since we need to reassess after that last attempt.”

“Has anything new happened with the families?” you ask quietly. You hadn’t told Namjoon what Prince Taehyung had admitted to you in his room - that the accusations were true. You vow to find a good time, when you aren’t likely to be overheard or interrupted.

He waves his head around, indicating sort of. “Satuel says that the Scores haven’t been to the palace since they made the official accusation. The Cleaves have thinned out considerably too, and another family. The Scores also publicly declared that if the royal family didn’t answer to the accusations, they’d be openly inviting further action.”

“Further action,” you parrot, stomach sinking. “Meaning, what? A trial? Violence? Protests?”

“I’m not sure,” Namjoon says, shaking his head. “But things are very tense out there. As soon as you’re well enough, we need to reconvene and decide our next steps. We need to get out of here.”

You hum in mild agreement. Namjoon’s gaze sharpens knowingly.

“I know you might not want to leave… considering everything between you and the prince.”

He says this perfectly evenly, carefully to keep anything accusatory out of his voice.

You don’t answer, trying to keep your face blank. It wasn’t a question, so you don’t have to answer it.

Besides, it sounds like he already knows.

Namjoon shifts, presses his lips together. “We should focus on the curse,” he says finally. “Everything else… there’ll be time for that, after.”

“Not if we die,” you mutter, but there’s no heat behind it.

Namjoon smiles at you wanly, and you wave a hand at him, dismissing your silly thoughts. “Okay,” you cave. “Go get the papers. I can work from bed. Let’s figure out what went wrong.”

—

Prince Taehyung comes to see you that evening.

He smiles big when he sees you sitting up on the couch in the main room. “You’re up?” he asks, though the answer is obvious.

“I think I’ve turned a corner,” you say. “I just feel… kind of weak.”

“Days in bed will do that,” he points out. “In addition to what the magic did. You should walk around the room when you can. I’m sorry that I can’t take you out to the sea… it’s too dangerous. Things are… quite complicated right now.”

“I know,” you say, then wonder if you shouldn’t have.

He grimaces. “You’re safe in your rooms,” he promises. “This will hopefully be over soon. We’re working on it.”

You nod, not sure what you can really add at this point. You’re afraid to say the wrong thing.

He glances at all the papers on your table. “Were you working?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say, glad for the change of subject. “We have a few theories about what went wrong, and two more options for countercurses that we can try.”

Prince Taehyung frowns. “I don’t think -”

“We have to try again,” you say, speaking right over him. He looks surprised; probably he doesn’t get interrupted much. “We have no choice.”

“Rest a few more days,” he implores. There’s something in his face, something in his tone, that you don’t want to look at too closely. It makes you think about him pressing your hand to his lips, and you don’t want to think about that.

He smiles sideways at you, something sly in it. “I’m not used to being given orders,” he admits.

You’re not sure if you’re meant to be sorry. You’re not.

“Two days,” you repeat. “Then we try again.”

He sighs, seeming to give in. “Is there anything we can do to make it safer?” he asks plaintively, turning to include Namjoon in this missive.

Namjoon shakes his head regretfully. “Unfortunately… not really. Magic is always risky. The death-magic involved in your curse makes it even moreso.”

“We have no choice,” you say firmly. “It has to be done.”

Prince Taehyung looks at you and your breath catches in your throat. It’s mournful. It’s protective. You can read all over him how badly he wants to remove the danger for you.

Like his lips on the back of your hand, you don’t know what it means.

“Alright then,” he says, finally. “In two days. We’ll try again.”

When he leaves, you collapse backwards into the back of the couch, groaning loudly and dramatically.

“Focus on the curse,” Namjoon repeats, although you didn’t ask him.

How can you? How can you when the prince is looking at you like that, like he wants to step between you and every scary thing?

How can you, when you know that once the curse is broken you’ll go back to your mortal, human life - and never see Prince Taehyung again?

That brings a thought that scares you - more than any Infracti ever could. Once, you’d been nervous that you’d struggle to break the curse, that you’d fail to save the prince. Now, you fear that you’ll cure him in no time, go home to your mundane, academic life, and spend the rest of your years wondering what any of this meant - if any of it meant anything.

If there’s anything you hate, it’s unanswered questions.

—

You awaken to a shout, which becomes a series of shouts. You hear - through the walls - your main door slam and you jolt upright, hands scrambling as you try to orient yourself. You barely have your eyes open when Satuel bursts through your bedroom door, black eyes wide and wild.

“Fire,” she gasps. “Hurry.”

Your body follows directions even as your mind scrambles to catch up. “What?” you utter, as your feet find the cold floor, as they follow her into your main rooms where she hurries to throw open Namjoon’s door as well, calling the same to him.

“Fire, where? Where do we go?”

Satuel herds you and Namjoon like sleepy sheep, pushing you towards the door. “There’s a safe room beneath the palace,” she explains. “You’ll go there, with the royal family. We need to hurry, it’s spreading quickly.”

You have a million questions, and you open your mouth to ask the first one when you catch sight of the dancing shadows at the far end of the corridor. Something is off, something isn’t right.

You look at Satuel, eyes wide.

“It’s -”

“Magic,” she says curtly. “And we’ll fight it with magic, but first we need to get you to the King and Queen in the safe room. Come!”

You start to follow, Namjoon steady beside you, when you freeze. “The King and Queen,” you echo, and Namjoon turns to look at you incredulously, as if he can’t believe you aren’t sprinting to safety right now. “What about Prince Taehyung?”

You can smell it, now - acrid, smarting the inside of your nose.

You don’t move.

Satuel huffs, like she can’t believe you either. “A team is working on getting him to safety, too,” she says roughly, eyes on the flames at the end of the hall. “Now, come, or I’ll let you burn up here, curse-breaker.”

You don’t believe the threat.

“He won’t go,” you say stubbornly. “If the curse is active, all he can think about is hunting, he won’t even know that there’s danger.”

“We’re working on it!” Satuel retorts, and starts walking again, clearly done with your shit. Namjoon shoots you a pleading look and follows.

The corridor has darkened, though you didn’t notice it happening. Your chest feels tight, but you have no urge to cough - the effect of magical flames, not mortals’ fire.

“He wants to hunt,” you repeat emphatically. “If he smells me, he’ll follow.”

“No,” Namjoon says firmly, louder than you’ve ever heard him. “Y/N, we need you, you’re not bait -”

“Send me with a fucking battalion, then,” you snap. “I can do it, I can keep him far enough away that he only follows -”

You’re walking and arguing, Satuel looking like she’s a nanosecond from just grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you out of there.

“I can!” you insist, and then you prove it, throwing your hands at Namjoon’s feet and sending up an invisible wall that sends him stumbling backward. You do it again, and again, advancing on him, sending him skittering away from the magic he can’t see. Then you turn, plaintively, to Satuel.

“Let me help,” you beg. “He’ll follow my scent, I know he will.”

—

There are eight Infracti in front of you, but only one faces you. Seven - including Satuel - stand between you and him, ready to try and hold him back if your magic fails. Ready to herd him into a safe room of his own if you don’t fail.

One thing is immediately, glaringly obvious - being hunted by an Infracti with his senses, as you had in the turret library, is nothing like being hunted by someone with no control.

Prince Taehyung stalks toward you on featherlight feet as you walk backwards, using magic to put up a new invisible wall every few feet. Your legs feel like jelly - you’re still weak from your days in bed - and Satuel supports you from behind, practically holding you up, and steering you around corners as needed.

He doesn’t even look like himself. The way he holds his limbs is animalistic, fractured and robotic by human standards. His face even looks different, cheeks hollow, fangs displayed. And his eyes, for the first time since you arrived, swirl fathomless black. Blacker than ink. Blacker than ravens’ wings. Blacker than death.

Ancient syllables drip from his mouth like the crunching of bones, doubling in volume each time he hits one of your walls and stutters to a stop, mystified and angry that he can’t seem to reach his prey.

“That’s it, steady,” Satuel tells you, low. Your hands shake - from exertion, from adrenaline, from terror, all. But you push them again, sending up another wall.

Satuel steers you around the corner and the prince follows, hunched, scurrying when he can, stopping suddenly when your magic demands it. When he turns the corner and catches sight of you again, he gnashes his teeth at you, fangs first, snarling - more pissed off than hungry by this point.

“I know,” you whisper, watching his black eyes shine with fury. “I know you’re mad.”

He snarls back something guttural as he advances.

Another few steps, another wall. The beast closes the gap, low growls reverberating off the stone walls around him. Another step. Another wall. His eyes never leave yours, his lip curled so far back it must hurt, his fangs shining with spit and venom in the low light of the corridor.

It’s tenuous, because you know how badly this could go if you make one mistake - one misplaced step, one hesitation on your spell-casting. You move carefully, calculating everything.

“We’re just at the door,” Satuel tells you. “You’ll go in, we’ll herd him to the side, then you put up one last wall and run. You have to really run, do you understand?”

“Yeah,” you say, and you make the mistake of glancing back towards her as you do.

You weren’t the only one calculating the rhythm of the spells.

The monster takes your moment of distraction and darts - inhuman speed, nearly a blur, straight towards you.

You don’t think, don’t have time to think. You just react - throwing your hands up, shouting a spell.

No wall flies up to save you.

Instead, he is frozen, mid-stride, one foot still in the air.

Satuel breathes a word behind you; you think it’s an archaic Infracti swear word.

You hold your hands up, focusing on keeping the magic steadily working, focusing on keeping him there. You breathe, adrenaline singing through your body, the only thing holding you up.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. You don’t know if he can even understand you. You know he won’t remember, even if he can.

“Keep him there,” Satuel says sharply, suddenly right behind you. “Can you hold him?”

“Uh-huh,” you grunt, because you can’t articulate much else while you focus on what you’re doing.

Guards move at Satuel’s orders, closing in to take him by the arms. His body follows their guidance as if they’re pushing him through water. You push magic as hard as you can, terrified of what would happen if you stopped. Your hands still shake wildly; your legs feel wobbly beneath you. The guards lead him, one slow step at a time, through the open doorway Satuel had told you was there.

When they have him through the doorway, one guard moves to close the door. As he does, the magic drops from you like water from a pail, slapping to the ground with a splash, leaving emptiness in its place.

You can see, through the narrowing crack of the closing door, that he starts fighting his guards immediately, thrashing, his frenzied growls louder even than they were when he was hunting you.

The door closes.

You sink to your knees.

—

Satuel has to carry you to the safe rooms; you’d feel bad about it if you didn’t know that you weigh practically nothing to her.

She sets you down once you’re inside, though you wobble a little.

“There are rooms here,” she tells you. “I can understand if you’re unable to sleep, but you should at least rest.”

You don’t even want to argue. You’ve never felt so absolutely, down-to-the-bone exhausted in your whole life.

The King and Queen are seated at a long table, drinking something that could be wine, or could be blood-based, from crystal goblets. You don’t look too closely.

The Queen stands as you pass. You keep walking, barely glancing at her. After everything that’s happened here, up to and including the accusations the other court families have been making, you want less and less to do with Prince Taehyung’s parents.

You look at her evenly. You’re so tired, crashing after spiking adrenaline, still weak from the failed curse-breaking that tried to kill you.

“I’ve done that every minute that I’ve been here,” you remind her coldly. Then you continue on, towards the dark, quiet room that Satuel has promised you.

—

You’re awakened by Taehyung bellowing. You lay there, eyes still closed, and listen to him yell. For some reason, a smile plays on your face.

You knew he’d be furious about the choice you made.

You do not give a shit.

It occurs to you that he might be yelling at Satuel, and this thought drives you to roll out of the bed and make your way to the main room so you can defend her.

It seems Namjoon was also awakened, because you meet him in the hallway.

“You’re alive, huh?” he mutters, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Takes more than a cursed Infracti to kill me,” you joke.

“Don’t get cocky,” he warns. “Next time might not have the same outcome.”

“You seem sure there’ll be a next time.”

“We’re here, aren’t we?”

As you step into the room, Prince Taehyung wheels around on the two of you.

“And you!” he yells, just continuing whatever line of shouting you’d apparently missed. This seems to be directed at Namjoon more than you, and you inch sideways away from the line of fire.

Prince Taehyung’s eyes, irises white like a human’s, flash with fury, even more than they had last night.

“How could you let her do something so stupid?” he demands.

Namjoon holds up a finger. “I was afraid if I spent longer arguing with her, we’d both burn alive.”

You cough to cover a laugh.

Taehyung isn’t having it. “She could have died,” he says, startlingly quiet after the shouting. “She almost did, from what I hear.”

“I was fine,” you protest, but Namjoon narrows his eyes and puffs his chest.

“At the end of the day, your Highness, she’s my boss. And she’s a powerful witch - more powerful than she realizes. If she tells me she can handle a situation, I believe her. You should, too.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrow, too. “I almost killed her,” he says, even more quiet, like the rattle of a deadly snake. “Is that something any of you were ready to have on your conscience? Because I certainly don’t want it on mine.”

“I was fine!” you try again, louder. “Taehyung, I had it under control! You never got closer than three feet - and if I hadn’t lead you to the safe room -”

“Don’t think I’m ungrateful,” he interrupts, intently. Like he needs you to know. “Of course I am. But next time, God, use someone else as bait.”

“Namjoon next time,” you agree easily, nodding.

Namjoon kicks you in the calf.

You almost go down, legs still mostly jelly.

This is what it takes to break the tension in the room. Prince Taehyung insists you sit, orders Satuel to send for a full breakfast for all of you.

“Please, coffee,” you beg.

Once you’re all sitting and no one is yelling, you manage to get an update from Taehyung about what happened last night.

“There’s no doubt it was an attack,” he admits glumly. “Magical fire doesn’t start on its own, to begin with, and it started simultaneously in three different wings. The guards were fighting it right away, but it took most of the night for them to confirm that no one had gotten into the palace. It seems, for now, that we’re safe.”

“So, now what?” Namjoon asks, leaning forward intently. “Will the Runes retaliate? Press charges?”

Prince Taehyung shrugs, though you think he probably does know. “The cabinet is meeting right now,” he says, which explains why the King and Queen are no longer present. “But I think… yes, action will be taken.”

He takes a breath, then looks at each of you. “Unless… well.. even if I can… but I have to try…”

You seem to have lost him to an argument with himself.

“Maiesti?” you venture. “We don’t… know what you’re talking about.”

He takes another breath, runs a hand over his face, covering it completely for a minute as he collects himself.

“I’m going into Scores’ territory tomorrow,” he says, once he’s uncovered. There’s something steely in his tone, something resolute. “I’ll be gone from dawn to… well , sometime before midnight.”

Your stomach turns; you don’t like the idea of being in the palace without him.

You don’t like the idea of him being out there without you.

He reads your frown.

“I must go,” he says, frowning back at you. “I’d stay if I could, but it’s imperative.”

“No,” you say quickly, waving your hands to stop him in his spiral. “I wasn’t trying to stop you. I just…” You pause, embarrassed. He looks at you with sorrowful brown eyes, and something in your gut kicks you into continuing. “I just feel safer when I know you’re nearby.”

You watch him soften.

“You are safer when I’m nearby,” he murmurs.

“Perhaps,” Satuel says gently, and you jump, having nearly forgotten that she and Namjoon are part of this conversation as well, “the curse-breakers would benefit from visiting the archives in Lucrotio?”

Namjoon lets out a sound like someone grabbed him by the esophagus and squeezed. “The archive of Lucrotio?” he echoes. “We can’t just walk in there, they’re sacred -”

“You can if I say you can,” Prince Taehyung interrupts. He’s got that coolness to his voice again, the one that you’ve noticed shows up when he slips into his royal role, when he’s leaning on his authority. Then, the coldness drops, and he looks at Namjoon closely. “Would it be beneficial to you?”

Namjoon lets out a breath like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Yes,” he says hollowly, turning to look at you to see if you’re on the same page.

You’re not; whatever he knows about these archives, you don’t know - which is unusual.

“The most extensive - and oldest - collection of elemental magic texts in Infracticus,” he tells you, and your eyes widen.

“Oh shit,” you utter, then look quickly at the prince to see if he looks offended. He doesn’t even seem like he noticed. Instead, he seems to be scheming.

“In that case,” he muses, “would you care to join us? You could research at the archives while I handle my business.”

“Yes,” Namjoon says emphatically, nodding strongly. “Yes, I want to go to the archives.”

You bite back a smile; seeing Namjoon get geeky about his field makes you feel very kindred with him.

Prince Taehyung looks uneasy for a minute. “Ah,” he says, a bit awkwardly, like he doesn’t want to ask what he’s about to ask. “The thing is… Y/N… that thing you did - putting up the magical walls? Do you think you could do that again? On demand?”

You look at him, baffled. “Huh?”

He looks almost ashamed. “I was just thinking that… I may be walking into a delicate situation… if you accompanied me as my -” He cuts himself off, suddenly avoiding your gaze.

You narrow your eyes. “As your venefici?”

He smiles sheepishly. “I meant it as a place of honor, at my side. But, yes. However, if researching in the archives will help you with the curse, then by all means - I do not want to take you from that.”

You look at Namjoon. It’s a no-brainer for you - of course you’d rather stay close to the prince’s side, act to protect him if necessary, over being left at the archives with Namjoon, researching a part of the magical process you know the least about.

“No offense,” Namjoon says drolly, “but you won’t be much help to me anyway, Y/N - you don’t know what to look for. But… I don’t want to be left there alone. Could one or two of the palace guards stay with me?”

“Of course,” Prince Taehyung promises eagerly. He looks at you, suddenly boyish in his hopefulness, as he waits for your response.

You feel suddenly shy, especially in the presence of Namjoon and Satuel.

“I’d be honored to stay with you, Maiesti,” you say quietly.

There are many more things you’d want to say, if you were alone. You hope he can hear them, or at least hear their presence, know that they are there.

From the look he gives you, you think he might.

“Very well,” he says. “We’ll leave quite early tomorrow. We’ll return sometime after sundown. For now, shall we escort you back to your own rooms?”

Satuel leads you out the door, and Namjoon follows. You reach out quickly, your fingers snagging on Prince Taehyung’s. He pauses, turning to look at you, clearly surprised.

“Yes?” he asks. “What is it?”

“The last time we were together -”

You brush this aside, unwilling to make any such promise, needing time alone to process those words with that voice.

“Not then, before that,” you correct. “In your rooms, when I was recovering, you said the accusations were true. You said you were trying to fix it.”

He just stares at you, face impassive - almost looking like the cold prince you’d met on your very first day. But your fingers are still tangled with his; neither of you pulled away after you’d grabbed for him.

“Tell me,” you beg. “Please, tell me what’s going on.”

His mouth twists. His fingers tighten on yours for only a second. “It isn’t your problem. This isn’t your land.”

“No,” you agree somewhat reluctantly. “But it does involve my people. And I’m here, now, for who knows how much longer. I’m going through what everyone here is going through. Did I not spend last night escaping from magical fire? I deserve to know. I’m part of this.”

Your voice gets stronger the more you say, until by the end you can feel your hands curled into fists and your face slides into a defensive scowl. At some point, you must have pulled your hand away from his. You don’t remember doing it.

He sighs, looks around; you’ve been around him enough to know he does that when he’s thinking, like the room will give him an answer he likes better than the one he’s facing.

“You are,” he allows finally, his deep voice calm and even. Then, he sighs. “Very well. The short version is… a year ago, I found out what my father was doing. He was essentially buying favors, buying loyalty - from important families who wanted to hunt, who object to the protection laws. Then, atop that, he was working up to framing the Scores for the killing. They were gaining too much favor around court, vague comments about the throne had been made - he felt threatened. This way he could solidify relationships and weaken Score influence at the same time.”

You’re quiet for a minute, processing. “How long was it going on before you found out?”

Prince Taehyung flushes, averts his eyes. “Longer than I’m proud to admit,” he says gruffly.

You reach out and touch the back of his hand tentatively. “And now?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I found out that he didn’t stop. He swore to me it was ending - over a year ago. When I figured it out… I started thinking of how to stop him, for good.”

You wait. You know to wait.

He lets out a breath. “The fastest way - barring murder, and I am above patricide, unfortunately for everyone - would be to remove him from power - to get him to agree to transfer the crown to me earlier than is customary.”

You step back, eyes widening. “Would he? Could that actually happen?”

Taehyung looks at you, something dark swimming across his features. “He might. With the right… persuasion. As I said… I’m working on it.”

You look at him for a minute, taking it in, taking him in.

“Okay,” you nod. “Well… if I can help… I’m smarter than my actions here have implied.”

He smiles at this, appreciating the joke. “I know you are,” he promises. Then he leads you by the hand to follow Satuel and Namjoon back to your quarters.

—

It wasn’t that long ago that Taehyung discovered his father’s dishonesty.

In fact, it had been less than a week before you’d arrived.

He had been buzzing with adrenaline and need - the need to do something, to take action, to make it better now, as if that could undo any of the wrongs that have been tallying up without his knowledge for months on end.

It was too long to wait for the natural transfer of power - another four hundred years, following the Infracti customs. Tradition wrote that he wouldn’t take the crown until the day he turned one thousand years old.

It was clear to Taehyung, as he strode purposefully through the castle, that his father couldn’t be reasoned with, couldn’t be talked into doing the right thing.

Taehyung had no allies, no armies, no knowledge in warfare; a direct attack was out of the question.

He reached his rooms, went straight to his greenhouses. He tried to sit, legs bouncing as his mind whirled and spun. Then, he paced, up and down the worn, dirt path, hands waving as he schemed and thought and argued in his head.

As he paced, an idea began to form, slowly, haltingly. The problem wasn’t just his father, he realized. The problem was also the law, the protection laws written in partnership with humans, that declared that the Infracti crown could only pass down the Rune bloodline - from Sunjae, to Taehyung, to whatever poor soul Taehyung brought into the world, someday.

If this works… he thought, it won’t solve anything right away. It will bring a period of chaos, and maybe even war… years from now. I’ll have time before then to gather forces, to ask for advice, to research… it buys me time, it gives me bargaining power.

Maybe, he thought, this solution isn’t perfect. But it’s better than nothing. It’s better than nothing, and it’ll buy me time and leverage.

With these thoughts spurring him on, he turned and went back the way he came - heading down into the palace depths, down and down, the steps growing colder beneath his feet the further he went.

<- Prev ||

thank you so much for reading!!!! i promise this is NOT reader's last/only encounter with what i lovingly call "scuttlebug vamp tae". we are officially in my favorite chapters and there's so much more still to happen! thank you for being here ily guys

#fic: of ruin #bts x reader #bts royal au #bts supernatural au #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n

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pamzn · 3 months

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Behind the Scenes with Jimin | VOGUEMEETS (3/10)

#pretty #from head to toe #jimin

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501 days until jimin is back ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ft. skirts/half-skirts

cr. namuspromised

#we love skirts #jimin #gorgeous 😍😍😍

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pamzn · 3 months

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the chemistry is chemistry-ing

#who’s more jealous #me or jungkook??#lmao #healthy jealousy tho #yeah? yeah

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The only kisses you get from Jo’s writing…

Of Ruin: Chapter 7

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @/sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

Section Warnings: vampire attack, depictions of a panic attack, language, angst wc: 5k

Morning brings no word from the royal family. You stay shut in your bedroom, finally thumbing through the magical theory book you’d smuggled in there, practicing little spells. You turn your lights on and off, light and extinguish candles, send your hairbrush floating to the window and back. It comes easily, naturally, as long as you have the book in front of you; you’re shit at memorization, and remembering the incantations will be the toughest part.

Midmorning, you find yourself so frustrated that you repeat slamming your bathroom door over and over again until Namjoon shouts at you to knock it off.

When Satuel brings your lunch, you beg to go to the turret library. You don’t even need a book, you just need to walk.

“You coming?” you ask Namjoon.

“I guess so,” he sighs.

Time crawls even from the turret. You’re bored, restless, anxious knowing you’re wasting time. You need the prince to agree to the ritual; it’s the only way to move forward.

“Can we head back?” Namjoon asks after a few hours, startling you from your reverie as you stare out the turret windows over the landscape below.

“Do we have to?” you ask absently. This is better than your rooms, in your opinion. At least here there’s a window.

“I have to pee,” he says flatly.

You sigh. “Go with Satuel,” you whine. “I’m fine here, you’ll only be gone a minute. Ask her. I don’t want to leave.”

You know you’re being petulant and you can’t seem to stop. He frowns at you, not liking the idea.

“It’s fine,” you insist.

Namjoon makes his way to the stairs, and you wait to see if he’ll come back to tell you that Satuel refused to take only him. It’s the reaction you expect. Instead, the minutes tick by, and no Namjoon.

Then, you hear movement on the stairs and you sigh. “Alright,” you say, rising, “I knew it was a long-shot. I’m coming.”

You turn, and find the doorway filled with the Infracti man who’d cornered you on your first night.

In the light of day, with the light from the window streaming through, he seems even more frightening; you can see the hatred etched clearly on his face. Your throat tightens and your pulse quickens. You stare at him, frozen, as if he might not see you if you don’t move.

“You made a lot of trouble for me, morsel,” he says, low, stepping closer.

Fury races through you, so quickly it’s like being engulfed in flames. Last time, you’d been a scared little human. It’s been less than a week, but you have more to your name this time. You won’t forget what you are.

Maybe your mortal body can’t match his inhuman one, but you’ve got more than your fists to fight with.

“Call me morsel one more time,” you growl, starting to call up magic even as you speak, “and you’ll never eat again.”

He laughs at this, throwing his head back, and you take the opportunity to strike. The spell you’d used to slam your bathroom door pops into your head and you shout it, throwing your hands towards him as forcefully as you can.

He flies backwards, hitting the stone wall with a sickening crunch. You move quickly, putting the library’s heavy wooden table between you and widening your stance, ready to go again.

He rises slowly, not laughing now. His eyes swirl with fury and he openly bares his fangs, his stance hunched and animalistic. He moves lightning quick - almost too quick for your mostly-human eyes - and you panic, shouting the same spell and throwing your hands towards the floor around you.

You don’t know what you were hoping for - a shield, maybe, or for a hole to open up and drop him down to the turret’s bottom. You’re too new to this, too sloppy, too desperate. Instead of any of those things, the stone floor around you crumbles and jumps, large chunks flying up into the air before dropping all around you, like an earthquake surrounding you in a perfect circle.

It wasn’t what you intended, but it works. As he zips towards you, nearly invisible, he’s caught by the chunks of stone, knocking him off his feet. You take advantage of the opportunity and toss him again, more cleanly this time, throwing him forcefully into the wall a second time, much of the rubble going with him.

His furious gaze finds yours as you stand over him, heart pounding. “Little witch,” he hisses. “You’ll regret that.”

You don’t wait to find out - you run down the spiral stairs so fast that you can’t believe you don’t miss one. You’re almost at the bottom when you can hear him behind you, in close pursuit.

You face him again in the hallway below, wishing desperately you had something besides slam the door in your magical arsenal. Your chest heaves as you pant against both exertion and terror.

He stalks closer, normal speed, and you try the spell again, but it does nothing - you’ve missed, or you’ve misspoken the incantation, or you’re just out of juice.

“I’ll never eat again?” he mocks your earlier words as he crowds you towards the wall behind you. “I might eat right now. Maybe I’ll take you with me and make you my new favorite meal. Maybe I’ll bleed you dry. Maybe I’ll make you a snack that lasts.”

He’s close enough that you can see your panicked reflection in the whorl of his black eyes, can see the wetness clinging to his bared fangs, can see the unnatural sharpness of his fingernails that more resemble claws.

There’s a shout, and you both turn. Dansoo comes out of nowhere, and behind him you can see Satuel take off in the opposite direction at a sprint. In the time it took you to glance in Satuel’s direction, Dansoo has put himself between you and the monster.

Dansoo is one of the monsters too. You can’t seem to forget that, even as he pushes the Infracti back.

“You dishonor your house,” Dansoo growls. “You dishonor the Guard. That is a guest of the royal family, and you’ve threatened her life twice this week.”

“Move, Dansoo,” the beast bites back, batting his hands away, his eyes on his prey, focused. He’s engaged in a hunt, and there will be no snapping him out of it. Dansoo grunts as he pushes back against the monster’s assault.

You press yourself against the wall, the fury and power you’d felt upstairs leaking away from you as you watch the monsters grapple with each other. You feel cold and detached, even as you consider that if Dansoo makes one misstep you might both die.

Reinforcements arrive quicker than you expect, led by Satuel, and three of them take the offender by the arms and pull him away from Dansoo, who’s managed to hold him in place, at least. You don’t relax, you feel no relief. You’re still surrounded by them, outnumbered by them.

You don’t know where Namjoon is. You don’t know if he’s okay.

Then, Prince Taehyung stalks up the corridor, radiating fury, brows scrunched and fists tight. His mouth pushes together making a line so thin it’s barely there.

Relief courses through you, the tension melting from your body. It is the first moment that you think you might survive.

“Take him to my father,” he orders, as soon as he’s close enough. “I’ll be there soon.”

He pauses by Dansoo, who nods at him, breathing heavily, indicating that he’s alright.

The prince reaches you, stops before you, scanning you with wide eyes. His hands skim along your arms as if checking for wounds. “We were in time?” he asks. “You’re not harmed?”

“No,” you say hollowly, your voice echoing in the corridor. You still feel out of your body, out of your mind, like someone else is speaking, the words coming from within you without any of your mental facilities checking in. You’re not even answering the question he asked as you babble, “No, I can’t do this, I can’t stay here -”

His eyes widen further, and you realize you’re sobbing as you answer. You can’t care, you don’t have enough left in you to care. Your knees give and he moves with you, hands on your elbows, as you sink to a crouch, still crying.

“I dreamed of this place,” you cry, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes, as if you can staunch the flow. “I studied it and learned about it and dreamed of it, how magical and amazing it would be. And now I’m here and everyone wants to hurt me - you, the Queen, even the other human -”

You know you aren’t making sense; Namjoon hasn’t hurt you, though his doubt in you has hurt at times. You can’t stop yourself, and Prince Taehyung just listens as you cry, pretty mouth turned into a frown. “I want to go home. I want to leave Infracticus. It’s not worth it, none of this is worth it! Fuck the curse, I don’t care if you sleep! I don’t care if you kill! It’s not worth it!”

You’re screaming this last part, one hand pushing uselessly at him, uncaring about the prince’s secret or your own safety; you have no control over your mouth, no control over your tears, no control over the way your entire body shakes hard enough that it hurts when your knees knock together.

When it’s clear you’re done screaming, words giving way to broken sobs alone, Prince Taehyung rubs his thumbs along your shoulders, where his hands came to rest after helping you down.

He says your name quietly, but you can’t stop crying.

“Where’s Namjoon?” you manage through shuddering gasps.

“He’s back at your rooms,” the prince says quietly. “Satuel got him to safety.”

This calms you just enough that you manage one deep breath. You hold it, lungs spasming, then let it out slowly, tears still leaking down your cheeks, unfettered.

Prince Taehyung says your name again, then asks gently, “Can I take you somewhere? Away from here? Do you trust me?”

You try another breath, trying desperately to get ahold of yourself, but it rips out of you in a fracturing exhale as you fail to hold it.

“Yes,” you gasp, wiping at your eyes, each breath shuddering and messy. Somehow, despite all of this, you do.

More than Satuel. More than Namjoon.

If anyone here wants you alive, you know it’s the prince.

–

He doesn’t speak to you as he leads you through the palace, nor when you get outside. It’s still light out, and you recognize the way to the stable. You’ve never come here while it’s light, and you’re able to make it down the steps without his help.

The sky has been beautiful at night when you’ve come here, but the sight of the rolling ocean calms your spirit. You breathe in time with the sound of waves as you follow the prince to the stables, and by the time you arrive, you’ve stopped shaking.

“Saddle her,” Prince Taehyung tells the guards, and you look at him sharply.

The look he gives you is understanding, affectionate.

“Still trust me?” he asks.

You nod, mute. Your body has stopped trembling, but you feel weak and shaken, like just existing now requires more energy than you have left.

The guards lead Potato out, fitted with a strange saddle and bridle. Prince Taehyung takes the lead and the guard steps away.

“You’ll sit in front,” he tells you softly. “The idea is to put your foot in the stirrup -” he points, “and swing your other leg over. Can you do that?”

“Probably,” you answer, eyeing Potato warily. She tosses her mane, paws at the sand. You turn to the prince. “Are we going… underwater?”

He smiles, shakes his head. “Only your legs will get wet. Do you want to leave your shoes here?”

Several minutes later, you do as the prince suggested, stepping into the stirrup and throwing your other leg over Potato’s back, settling into the saddle. Potato shifts beneath you and you cling to her mane, sure you’ll fall.

But Prince Taehyung is right behind you, wrapping an arm around your stomach and pulling you tight against his front. It’s comforting, somehow, and you fight the urge to relax back against him; you aren’t sure how he’d react if you did - probably, it would be weird.

He leans forward to speak close to your ear. “It’s going to feel strange,” he advises. “You aren’t used to an amarisca’s gait. Trust me - trust that if I’m not frightened, you don’t need to be. You hold her mane, and I’ll hold you. Squeeze your legs on the saddle and try not to fight the motion.”

“That’s a lot of directions to follow,” you say. The attack at the palace looms in your mind, trying to poke into your conscious thought even as you try to allow yourself to be distracted, and the adrenaline in your system hasn’t died all the way down. It thrums through your body, making you feel half-delirious. You aren’t entirely sure this isn’t a dream. You still feel a little floaty and out-of-body from what happened inside.

The first few steps into the ocean are fine - no different from riding a horse, which you’ve done once or twice in your life. But once the amarisca can swim, the motion changes entirely. You gasp, and Prince Taehyung pulls you back tightly again, his chest solid and unmoving behind you.

The galloping motion is more like a dive, like the animal is diving into each wave as her powerful front legs tread through the water, her fish’s tail undulating behind you. Prince Taehyung’s arm holds you against him, his grip unwavering, as he steers with his free hand.

“Don’t fight it,” he repeats, close to your ear. You shudder, and you know he can feel it, as tightly as you’re pressed together. You hope he’ll chalk it up to the cold of the sea, not his lips near your neck, his hand splayed on your stomach. “When she dives, lean into it a little.”

You try to follow his directions, following Potato’s rocking motion through the water, trying to ignore how cold your legs are, how loud the wind is, how Prince Taehyung’s hand is gripping your middle tightly to hold you against him, how much you like it.

A particularly big wave rocks over your thighs, and you scream once, startled more than anything.

He chuckles behind you. “We’re fine,” he assures you, loud enough to be heard over the roar of the sea and the wind. The water is up to your thighs and it’s freezing. The prince’s Infracti body offers you no warmth. But at least it doesn’t let you fall off.

You’re not sure how long you ride; long enough that your legs go numb to the ocean’s temperature, long enough that you start to get concerned about it.

That’s when the prince points ahead, and you squint. Sure enough, you can see a pocket of trees ahead, seeming to rise out of the water. But as Potato brings you closer, you can see that there’s a tiny island here.

It’s a bit rocky - no pun intended - when Potato switches from swimming to walking on the pebbled shore, but you hang on tight, and Prince Taehyung doesn’t let you fall. He halts Potato once she’s solidly on dry land, and hops down behind you.

You want to sink into the dirt when the prince helps you down, relieved to be back on something solid, but you stand, swaying a bit. You still feel like you’re in a dream. Above you, the sky is cloudy, but no rain falls. It’s grey in every direction - even the dark ocean water seems to melt into grey at the horizon, as if there’s no real line between sea and sky. You can’t see the palace from here; you could be back in the human world - there’s nothing here indicating that you aren’t.

This calms you more than you’d like to admit.

“I have to tie her up,” he tells you. “Stay here.”

As if you could go anywhere. You look around instead; the trees you saw from further out are some kind of conifer, grouped together just off-center of the island. The shore is rocky - it’s mostly packed dirt where Potato landed, but most of the rest of the island’s edges are jagged rock.

You feel better, so far from the palace that it’s not even visible over the horizon. With nothing around you but ocean, you feel truly safe for the first time since you arrived. No one can get to you here. No one knows you’re even here except Prince Taehyung, and he won’t hurt you unless you’re here after midnight. Your heartbeat begins to settle down, your breathing evens.

When he returns, Prince Taehyung plops unceremoniously into the dirt.

“Join me,” he jokes.

“I’ll get my pants dirty,” you object. After everything that’s happened in the last two hours, you can’t believe you care.

“Who are you trying to impress?” he asks easily, like it’s a big joke.

You arch an eyebrow at him.

“Me?” He laughs. In spite of everything that just happened, the sound is lovely, deep and musical and welcome. “My pants are muddy already.”

This is true. So you do as he asks, delicately sitting next to him, curling up and hugging your knees.

You like this version of him, outside the palace walls - quick to smile, oddly funny. Of course, a tiny part of you likes the quiet, reserved version of him you get when he’s inside, too.

You sit in silence for a few minutes, watching the waves crash on the island’s beach.

Finally getting serious, he speaks. “I’ve been alive a long time,” he says, slowly and seriously. “I’ve been very angry before, too. I’ve been very scared before. I have felt, like you, desperately alone.”

He waits for a second, eyes still on the ocean. From where she’s tied to a tree trunk, you can hear Potato snort.

“I always felt better here,” he tells you. “It feels kind of like leaving, doesn’t it?”

You nod. “It does,” you say. “The problem is, eventually I have to go back.”

“I’m sorry we’ve failed you so badly,” he says mournfully. “I promised you that you’re safe here, and you’ve experienced the opposite. That never should have happened - the first time, or this time.”

“Yes, great protector, won’t let anything happen to his venefici,” you mutter.

He visibly flinches when you say the word.

“And I’m sorry,” he says slowly, “for saying that to you. I… was not dealing well with the lack of sleep, or my own feelings regarding… well, that’s besides the point. Sleeping well was very helpful. I feel much better now, and I have you to thank.”

“Don’t thank me until I break the curse,” you say, kicking at the dirt.

“If you’ll stay,” he ventures, “if you’ll keep trying… I promise to keep you safe. I know we said that from the beginning, but I’ll do better.”

“It’s not a promise you can keep,” you mutter.

He looks at you, sideways. “I can,” he says. “I underestimated how much work it would be, but I can.”

You don’t believe him, so you change the subject. “You shouldn’t even be out here with me,” you grouse. “You should be sleeping, while you have the chance. You need to rest.”

“I can’t,” he asserts, whining a little. “I struggle to fall asleep, and then when I do - I wake up quickly. I dream about - that night.”

You think about this, think about what he’s really telling you. “That’s a problem that won’t be solved by the countercurse,” you point out.

“I know,” Prince Taehyung admits, meeting your gaze. “But one thing at a time, right?” He leans back, eyes the heavy clouds above you, then adds, “I think I’d like to give their families something - for the humans I… attacked. You can’t put a price on a life, of course, but… wouldn’t it be right? To give them something for their loss?”

He looks at you openly, as if he desperately needs someone to answer this for him.

“Why don’t you?” you ask. It seems like a fair question.

The prince shakes his head. “Our people have already covered our tracks - erased memories, expunged documents. Made it like they didn’t exist. To ensure that my image goes untainted. To make sure they can’t try me, put my case before a judge. I can’t apologize for killing someone who never existed.”

Your stomach churns. “That’s illegal,” you say darkly.

Prince Taehyung inclines his head. “I don’t condone it,” he promises. “It was done without my consent. I should be tried. I should stand trial. I know that.”

“But you can’t,” you say slowly, understanding dawning over you. “Not without exposing your parents for the cover-up.”

“And what about the one who lived?” he asks, looking up at you plaintively. “They told me she won’t remember it happening… but isn’t that worse? To have all the fear the trauma brought, but to not know why?”

You look at him, seeing something new in him - again. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I don’t know what’s worse. I’m not sure either option is worse.”

He shakes his head, rubbing a hand along his forehead. “It is too much to carry,” he whispers, and you’re not sure he’s even talking to you.

“No one is going to forgive you,” you say, and his head snaps up, eyes wide. You continue, choosing your words carefully. “They can’t, their families can’t. You can’t undo what happened. All you can do is take steps to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Help me end the curse, and work on forgiving yourself.”

He takes this in silently, and you wait him out.

“And you?” he says finally, looking up at you through his dark curls that hang over his eyes. “Will you be working on forgiving yourself?”

You bristle. “For what?”

He cocks his head, like he’s surprised that you don’t know. “For not being human,” he says softly, as if it’s obvious.

You look away.

“We should both rest,” he says finally. “I want you to know… the man who came after you today will be dealt with - he won’t be in the palace. He’ll be gone already by the time we get back. And I’m adding extra bodies to your personal guard - it won’t just be Satuel and Dansoo anymore.”

You look at him, afraid to voice what’s in your head - that he’s promising to protect you from monsters by giving you more monsters.

But Dansoo had fought to protect you, today. And Satuel had run for the prince, for more guards, had gotten Namjoon to safety.

“Okay,” you whisper, because it’s better than admitting that you don’t feel any safer. That you’re sure you’ll be plagued with nightmares tonight. That you still want nothing more than to solve the curse, and go back to your old life - as quickly as possible.

Even if, in your old life, you didn’t get to ride amarisca into the sea.

“Do you feel better?” he asks you, and there’s something earnest in it. Hopeful, maybe. Like he really hopes he helped.

Better, you think. “Better than I was,” you allow. Not better better. You won’t feel better until you’re home again. Maybe not even then. You might always see swirling black eyes, whenever the lights get dim.

“Let’s do the ritual in the morning,” the prince suggests, looking over at you openly.

“Okay,” you agree. Because you want to go home. “Let’s do that.”

–

Prince Taehyung brings you back to your rooms. You’re painfully aware of the dirt on your ass, the way the legs of your trousers cling to your calves, still damp from ocean water, as you make your way through the palace. But you pass no one but the royal family’s guards, and they remain impassive.

You’re sure they’re curious. Maybe it’s normal for the prince to traipse about the palace covered in mud and sea salt, but not with a human in tow.

If they even see you as human. The Infracti who’d attacked you had called you little witch. Perhaps they all know what you really are.

He stops in front of your doors, looks at his feet for a second. Dansoo and Satuel are in place, and you notice with a guilty sinking in your stomach that Dansoo sports a scrape across one cheekbone, the wound clearly fresh.

“So…” the prince says, looking up at you through his lashes. “Do you think you’ll stay?”

The question surprises you so much that your brain goes a bit empty. You blink at him, taking ages to catch up.

“Do I… do I really have a choice?” you ask finally, voice hushed. Dansoo and Satuel stare straight ahead, pretending not to listen.

The prince flinches, like he’s hurt by this question. “Of course you do,” he says firmly. “That’s why I took you - I was - this was my attempt at convincing you to stay. But the choice is yours.”

You want to leave. But not as badly as you want to end the prince’s curse.

“I’m going to see this through,” you say, determination winning the shoving contest with your fear. “Even if I die trying, apparently.”

The look he gives you is rueful. “I think you’re braver than me,” he says quietly. And then, all business, “I’ll send for you in the morning. For the ritual. We’ll conduct it in my rooms.”

“Okay.” You turn to enter your rooms, but you pause and bow to your guards. “Thank you for… earlier.” You rise, eyeing the scrape on Dansoo’s face. “I’m sorry you were hurt.”

“Our orders are to keep you from harm,” Dansoo says stiffly. Satuel says nothing, just gives you a tight nod.

You try not to let this response sting. You let yourself inside.

Namjoon jumps to his feet and you both blurt, “Are you okay?”

“Where did you go?” you ask, rushing forward. You have the urge to hug him, you’re so relieved to find him unharmed, but you’ve only known him a week and you’re not sure it would be appropriate. Instead, you hover just outside his personal bubble, hands raised like you’re going to scan him for wounds.

“Where did I go?” he echoes. “Where did you go? One second, there were literally vampires fighting over you in the corridor, and then everyone was gone. All Satuel would tell me was that you were with the prince!”

You sink onto the couch. You’re half tempted to send for a stiff drink; you’ve never wanted one so badly in your life.

“That Infracti…” you explain, “He found me the first night. When I… went out, when I shouldn’t have.”

Namjoon’s eyes narrow, and you wonder if you imagine the flicker of protectiveness you think you see.

“The Prince found us, luckily, and also luckily didn’t send me packing,” you admit. “But I guess that guy felt like he had a score to settle or something. I shouldn’t have sent Satuel away. I should have gone with you.”

Namjoon sits too, begins to fill in his side of the story. “We were in the corridor when he went up,” he explains. “She got another guard and, like, threw us into a nearby room and then went running to get help. By the time I got back to the hallway, you were gone. But she took me back up to get my papers I’d left on the table and the floor is all fucked up.”

He looks at you quizzically. “Did you do that?”

You fiddle with your fingers, embarrassed. “I was just trying to keep him away from me.”

Namjoon lets out a disbelieving breath. “I can’t believe you fought off a hunting Infracti without any magical training,” he says.

“I didn’t do a very good job,” you mutter quietly. “Hence the hole in the floor. That’s not what I was trying to do.”

“You got away,” he points out.

“Only because of Dansoo and Satuel,” you argue. “If they hadn’t been in the corridor, I was done.”

It feels strange to say it so casually, when it’s so true, and so nearly came to pass.

“Anyway,” you say, clearing your throat. “I kind of freaked out. Prince Taehyung took me somewhere quiet, away from the palace, so I could calm down.”

He looks you over, clearly seeing the mud on your damp pants.

You give him a sheepish look. “It may have involved riding an amarisca. In the ocean.”

He laughs a little. “I guess that’s one way to distract you,” he says. “He knew what he was doing.”

“He agreed to try the ritual,” you say, suddenly remembering. “He said he’ll send someone for me in the morning. Will you join us?”

Namjoon looks surprised - over the Prince agreeing or your invitation, you’re not sure. “I thought you didn’t want my energy getting mixed in?”

“Sorry,” you mumble, chagrined. “No, it’ll be fine if you’re there - you just have to stand far enough away once we start.”

“O-kay,” he says slowly. “Then, yes, I’d like to be there. Wake me when they come to get you? I’ll leave my door unlocked.”

“Sure,” you agree.

You both stand there awkwardly. It occurs to you that you may both be considering the ways you’ve been unfair to each other.

“I’m glad you weren’t hurt today,” you say quietly, unable to look at him. “And if I haven’t made it clear… I’m glad to have you here. I’m glad to have someone…”

“Human?” he laughs.

You smile. “I was going to say on my side, but yeah. That, too.”

He softens. “I’m glad you’re okay, too,” he says. “And if I haven’t made it clear… I trust your decisions. My grandfather set you as the case lead for a reason. Even if I don’t always act like it.”

“Thanks,” you say awkwardly, after a minute of shifting from foot to foot. “Okay… I’m going to go to bed. I’ll wake you in the morning.”

You can’t sleep. Swirling black eyes rise in your vision every time your eyes close. After nearly an hour of trying, you give up. You turn on your lamp and pull out the spellbook. You search the index for something that looks defensive, and you practice it again, and again, and again.

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we're back!!! thanks for reading!!!

chapter 8 will go up next friday as scheduled!

#of ruin #bts x reader #bts fic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x reader

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