#03 lust my beloved | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taevbears · 2 years

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Magic Shop - 01

Your magical journey begins with a fateful encounter and a beloved companion.

⤑ pairing: (eventual) OT7 x female witch!reader ⤑ genre: magic au, slow burn, action/adventure ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 8.3k ⤑ warnings: DUB-CON, implied SA, side character death, systematic oppression, religious themes, violence, brief smut (foreplay and fingering), mention of blood, just a lot of dark themes in general, our reader is a smart cookie but also an idiot when it comes to the boys. ⤑ note: Hello lol. So I'm not exactly new to fanfiction, but I am new to writing BTS fanfiction. Anyway, spooky season is around the corner and this story has been in my head for a while now. This chapter is also heavily inspired but this game called Dragon Age: Origins (though you don't need to play it to read this story). Also big shoutout to @angelicyoongie for the tips and encouragement throughout my writing process ♡

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 (final)

The Devoted teaches that all magic is a source of wicked power, and those who inherit the abilities to manipulate unnatural forces are cursed.

For centuries, word of its immorality has spread throughout the lands. Until, one day, it’s become a universal truth. For magic, like all things twisted and evil, come from the Veil. A hidden realm between the spiritual and mortal worlds. A place of whims and fantasy. Of unspeakable horrors and sins.

To many, the Veil is a mystery.

Some describe it as a place where dreams manifest. A cluster of visions, intermingling together, creating a world of sleep and wake. Images that show one’s true desires and their darkest secrets.

Others say it’s a world for the passing. Where all souls end up once they leave the mortal realm. Lucky ones find a way to be reincarnated to a new life. Most are aimless wanderers, no longer attached to the memories of their previous lives. But there are some unfortunate ones who become restless spirits, gone too soon or burdened with regret. Eventually, the despair and fury overcome them, tainting their souls with a miserable, contagious darkness.

Mages, who are most attuned with their magic in the Veil, are also the most susceptible to corruption. The tainting is subtle at first. Whispered insecurities, fears, regrets, and doubts, chipping away at one’s sense of self. Until it molds and twists into a hatred that fills the hearts of mages and overflows into the mortal realm like a plague.

History speaks of those who have succumbed to the tempting darkness of their own abilities. Those who have sacrificed the blood of innocents for their unholy rituals. Who transformed humans into beasts, and who single-handedly usurped grand cities in their lust for power and greed.

They’re called the Wicked.

Left unchecked, all those born with magic could become tainted by their own power. Even those with the purest of souls.

Thus, it’s declared that all mages are condemned to be locked away in isolated castles and towers. Away from the humans, who deem them as dangers to their society, and heavily guarded by the Wardens of the Devoted, the sentries who have taken an oath to protect humankind and eliminate mages from becoming Wicked.

On a high cliff, overseeing the inky waters of a dark lake and beyond the ominous deep woods is Blackstone Castle. It’s one of the few hidden fortresses where those with an affinity to magic are taken upon the awakening of their abilities. Its tall, looming towers and sturdy, ancient structures are all you’ve ever known. Within its lonely, dreary walls and corridors is what you call home.

Like many cursed children, you’ve awakened your power at a young age. Too young to even remember the faces of your parents before you were cruelly ripped away from them.

Under the care of the Circle of Magi – enchanters who work as caretakers, teachers, and groundskeepers within the castle – and the ever-vigilant gaze of the Blackstone Wardens, you’ve learned to cultivate your art and make it into something incredible. Something beautiful.

Through years of study and practice, your passion and relentless determination has driven you to the top of your class. You’re a promising apprentice, yet to be defeated in a dueling match of incantations and spells. Your hard work has earned you many praises from your mentors, as well as the weary caution from the armored wardens.

After all, in the eyes of the Devoted, you’re an abomination. And your beautiful, remarkable talent is vile. Atrocious. Evil.

Someone like you – a young, feisty apprentice of high regard, who embraces the curse of magic as a blessing – is the perfect, dangerous concoction of becoming Wicked.

There’s only one way the enchanters and the wardens can determine a young mage’s abilities and their resistance to temptation within the Veil. A secret rite of passage that turns an apprentice into a full-fledged mage. A final test that all Blackstone students spend their youth anticipating and preparing for.

The Harrowing.

All mage apprentices must face this inevitable trial, but very few know what it truly entails. Those who’ve done it and succeeded are forbidden to speak about it. And those who’ve failed are never seen or heard of again.

At any given moment, an apprentice will be beckoned for this evaluation, and will have no other choice but to obey its call. And yours could be any day now.

“Mina,” a voice gently calls in the middle of the night. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at the handsome warden standing by the doorway. Light from the hallway shines behind him, almost giving him an angelic appearance. He addresses the girl sleeping in the bunk next to you. “Mina, wake up.”

Your roommate stirs at the sound of her name. “Seokjin?”

“It’s your time.”

In the darkness, you see Mina stiffen and a tense silence passes between them. You all know what those words mean. You watch as she takes a shaky breath and then proceeds to step out of bed. Some of the other girls in your tiny dorm sit up on their bunks to see her go. She returns your stares with an unspoken goodbye.

Your gaze turns to Seokjin just then. The handsome warden smiles sadly, watching as she tries not to tremble before him. Mina pauses by your bed, giving a half-hearted smile, one that carries the weight of the years of friendship between you two, before she leaves the dorm.

It’s the last time you’ll ever see her.

“She’s the fourth girl that went missing this month,” Hoseok comments, picking up pieces of grilled lamb and putting them on your plate. “Ever since Seokjin was transferred here, girls who do their Harrowing have disappeared more frequently.”

“Are you saying Seokjin has something to do with it?” you question, putting the meat right back on his plate. You refuse to eat more than your share when your best friend hasn’t even touched his food.

“I’m saying it’s suspicious.”

“It is really odd,” you agree, chewing thoughtfully. “But it’s Seokjin. I don’t think he has anything to do with the missing girls.”

Hoseok snorts. “You say that because you have a soft spot for him.”

“I saw him cowering over a moth that flew over his head the other night, Hoseok. I don’t think it’s that much of a reach to believe he’s harmless.”

Over a week has passed since Mina was summoned. No one has seen her around the castle after that night. As her roommate, the two of you would dream and whisper about passing that secret test together.

It’s the next big milestone; a graduation from your apprenticeship. Passing your Harrowing will bring you one step closer to becoming a true mage. Your new status will unlock new books and spells within the libraries. You can become a member of the Circle, whether to educate students, care for the little ones, or upkeep your favorite parts of Blackstone. The wardens will be less strict with you, given that you’d be living proof of your willpower and resistance to temptations. And that mysterious realm, with all its secrets and treasures, will be opened to you for the first time.

More than anything, you were ready for it. Both of you were.

But then, that night happened.

Suddenly, you wake up in the morning and see her empty bunk beside you. The bed is made and the pillow is cold. It hasn’t been touched. Not since she left. The other girls that share the dorm wonder about her, as she was friends with everyone she meets. But no one knows for sure what happened. If she’s still in the castle, why hasn’t she come by to see you all? Is she just busy with her new tasks and duties? Is something else going on?

While you’re lost in thought, Hoseok adds some meat back on your plate. He knows you’ve been unsettled since your roommate disappeared. You’ve told him as much when she didn’t return the next morning. And while you appreciate his subtle ways of taking care of you, you catch him in the act and return it back to him.

“Hoseok, please.”

“Sorry, I’m just…” he trails off with a heavy sigh, putting the utensils down. “I’m worried. The disappearances. Our own Harrowings. All the changes that come afterwards. Aren’t you scared?”

You are. More than you’re willing to admit.

You and Hoseok have been friends since you were kids. There’s rarely a day when the two of you aren’t seen together. Although you’ve been in Blackstone for as long as you can remember, he’s one of the very few you consider a friend.

Here, beneath the tree you and Hoseok are sitting under, holds so many first memories for you: your first kiss, your first confession, a sacred vow, a proposition. All of it with Hoseok.

But Hoseok doesn’t love you that way.

He told you so himself, catapulting your friendship into a strange limbo between platonic and romantic. One where you’ll seek each other out for comfort and affection, sometimes in ways that are too intimate for just friends. One where you can talk to each other about anything and everything, carrying each other’s secrets, knowing exactly what spots and kinks get him going behind that beautiful, sunny smile. One where Hoseok wouldn’t deny it if someone mistook you as his girlfriend, but in private, when it’s just you and him, he’d ask if the two of you are still friends.

Hoseok doesn’t love you that way because he likes Mina.

But he was afraid of messing up with her. So, he’d come to you. His best friend, a safe zone. Someone he trusted won’t break his heart.

And you let him because there’s one secret that Hoseok doesn’t know about. That maybe, perhaps, there’s a part of you that holds onto the hope of something more.

It’s confusing, this dance that you and Hoseok have shared over the years. Both of you value your friendship so much. But once you pass your Harrowing, you’ll no longer be an apprentice. You’ll be moved out of the dorm and into the enchanters’ corridors. You’ll be assigned new tasks and duties within the castle. Your schedule will be completely different from Hoseok’s.

You won’t see him as often as you do now. And that’s what terrifies you the most.

“I don’t have a reason to be,” you finally answer with a confident smile. A convincing lie.

He laughs in a way that makes your heart melt. “Wow, my best friend is very brave.”

You try not to let your smile falter and shovel some food in your mouth. The topic of Mina still lingers over your head. Hoseok must be heartbroken, even if he seems more occupied fretting over you. It feels absurd to move on from the fact that she isn’t around anymore, but Mina is one of the many girls who left without a trace.

“Anyway,” Hoseok continues, picking at his food again. “Just promise me you’ll be careful around Seokjin, okay?

“You have nothing to worry about, Hoseok,” you assure him with a small smile. Perhaps you really do have a soft spot for the handsome warden. “I trust him.”

“Yeah, but–”

“Wait, Hoseok,” you interrupt, turning your gaze away from him. “Did you hear that?”

Both of you fall quiet. The courtyard is busy with fellow apprentices on their break from morning lectures. Beyond the chatter, however, is a loud rustling coming from the bushes nearby. His eyes widen as he whispers, “Do you think it’s a bear?”

“A bear–” you sputter, standing to your feet. “No, I don’t think so.”

You carefully walk toward the sound, eyeing the shrubs before you. One of them pinpoints exactly where the source of the noise is coming from.

“What if it’s a tiger?” Hoseok asks urgently, tailing closely after you. His grip around your shoulders is almost painful.

Neither of those animals are revealed as you push the shapely plants with your hand. Instead, hidden in the small opening, is a tiny kitten.

It hisses the moment it sees you two, warning you both to stay away.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you coo softly, trying to calm it down. It looks like a stray. Its black fur is covered with blood, dirt, and grime. It must’ve gotten attacked by another animal nearby.

“Poor little guy,” Hoseok says, peering over your shoulder. “How did you get here?”

The kitten continues to hiss and growl, distrusting eyes glaring up at you.

“It’s hurt,” you point out, noting how one of its front legs is stiff.

“I might have something in my pouch,” Hoseok mutters, looking over at the tree where you both abandoned your things. “Wait here, I’ll go get it.”

As he leaves, you crouch down to get a little closer. The kitten tenses, but isn’t able to go anywhere with its injured limb. It keeps its gaze on you, licking its leg to soothe itself and crying in pain.

The sound breaks your heart.

Before Hoseok could return, you close your eyes and hover your hand over the kitten’s arm. It growls, baring its teeth and trying to swipe at you with its good paw. Immediately, it freezes when a warmth is transferred from you to the kitten. It blinks up at you with surprised, feline eyes.

“Better?” you ask, feeling a bit dizzy. Healing magic is difficult and draining, especially since you’re not a trained healer. By the time Hoseok returns with both of your things, the kitten’s pained mewling stopped and it’s able to move its arm.

Hoseok crouches beside you, carefully feeding it some of the grilled lamb the two of you kept passing each other. A heart-shaped smile appears on his lips when the kitten sniffs at the meat and accepts it.

“I dipped some healing potion in the meat. He’ll be good as new by tomorrow morning,” he explains before playfully scolding, “You should’ve waited before you attempted healing magic. It only took me a minute to get my bag.”

“I had to do something, Hoseok,” you pout, though happy that the kitten was eating from his hand. Break is nearly over when the cloudy skies above quickly darken. “Let’s get you somewhere warm.”

The kitten seems hesitant at first, still seeming wary as its eyes gauge you and Hoseok. It seems settled in its hiding spot under the bushes too, but it changes its mind when the first raindrops fall on its head.

You gather the little thing in your arms, and you and Hoseok head inside before you’re all caught in the rain.

“Familiars,” the instructor says, just as you and Hoseok enter the lecture room. She has her back toward the class, writing out the term on the chalkboard. “Animals tend to be drawn toward magic, and sometimes, a special bond is formed between these creatures and people like us. For thousands of years, familiars have been known to be a mage’s greatest companion. They’re friends from the Veil, serving to guide and protect you as you develop your magical powers.”

Perched on her desk is the instructor’s familiar: a great, grey owl with a large, round face, a small beak, and beady eyes. It sleeps as the lesson goes on, both familiar and instructor unaware of the two of you quietly sneaking in while the class is in session.

Your new friend is with Hoseok, sleeping peacefully in his arms. You suppose you’re not the first person to bring a stray into the castle. Several other students have acquired their own pets: birds and reptiles perched on shoulders, rodents tucked in pockets, cats and dogs on laps. Small critters who’ve helped ease the loneliness that comes within the castle.

“What’s fascinating is that you don’t choose what your familiar looks like. Whatever creature they are, whatever shape they appear, they’re the ones that choose you,” she continues, looking at her beloved owl. She chuckles as she goes into a tangent. “Why, I had an old roommate who was allergic to hers–”

“What should we name our son?” Hoseok suddenly whispers, gently caressing the kitten’s cheek. You hear it purring under his touch.

You can’t help but smile. “He’s our son now? I didn’t know we were keeping him.”

“Look at his face, though. Wouldn’t the three of us make a cute family?” He shifts in his seat so that you could get a better look at your newly-founded son. With its fur cleaned up and the remedies seeming to help, it’s like a new kitten. Seeing it relaxed and happy in Hoseok’s arms is a stark difference from the scared, injured animal you found only an hour before.

“If he chooses to stay,” you say, reaching over to pet the top of its head and smiling when it leans toward your touch, “then we can name him.”

“The only way a mage can choose a familiar is by striking up a contract within the Veil. But be warned,” the instructor cautions, finally turning her attention to the class, “this is highly advised against. For if these creatures are dedicating their devotion, knowledge, and livelihoods to you, they will want something of equal value in return.”

Your eyes scan the lecture room, lingering toward the desk where he normally sits. A small frown forms on your lips when you see it’s empty again.

Where’s Namjoon?

“These kinds of contracts are considered dark magic, prone to turn you Wicked. Just like the mortal realm, there are good and bad spirits in the Veil. Some familiars, especially those who remember you from previous lives, will approach you with a genuine eagerness to help. Others will see you as a chance to corrupt the world that hurt them, manipulating and possessing you to do unspeakable evils. You’ll never know who or what you’re dealing with in the Veil, and there’s no going back once a contract has been made.”

“Hey, Hoseok.”

“Hm?”

“What happened to Namjoon? He wasn’t in any of the lectures this morning either.”

He glances up at the desk where Namjoon sits, causing the kitten to mewl in protest when he stops petting it. “I don’t know.”

Dread sinks in your heart. First Mina, now Namjoon is missing too?

“History speaks of the mages who’ve caused destruction and ruin to humankind, but some historians believe it was their familiars who influenced them into becoming Wicked,” she says, looking back at hers. “After all, why would a mage question the intentions of their greatest companion?”

The owl opens its eyes and hoots. A quiet warning.

The instructor smiles brightly and turns back to the class. “Now then, let’s open our books to where we last left off.”

If there’s one place you’d know to find Namjoon, it’d be here.

Tall shelves surround you, full of books in a variety of colors and volumes. Within many of their pages tell the history between humans and mages, skewed toward the teachings of the Devoted. Some contain spell books, most that are inaccessible to you as an apprentice. And some are leisure readings, often with a witch as the main villain of the story.

You spend a lot of time here. Probably more than at your own dorm. The quiet ambiance has helped you go through your studies and reviews of your notes and lessons over the years.

He’s always here as well. The library with all its written knowledge at his fingertips is his favorite part of the castle.

“Figured I’d find you here,” you remark once you spot him. He’s sitting at a table with a couple of his friends. They nudge at him when they see you approaching, knowing smiles and amused eyes lighting their faces. You ignore them as you cross your arms and glare at Namjoon. “You weren’t in class.”

“I wasn’t,” he acknowledges, raising an eyebrow before a twitch of a smirk tugs on his lips. “Why? Did you miss me?”

“Of course not,” you scoff, standing your ground as he gets up from his seat. He’s so tall, he practically towers over you. “I just want to know why you didn’t show up.”

It’s not just his physique that makes him so big, but his presence, the way that he can command a room to pay attention to him. Many of your fellow students admire him, even Hoseok. He’s incredibly intelligent too, one of the smartest and most naturally-gifted apprentices his mentors sing praises about. His knowledge on the arcane arts and its history is unmatchable.

And you absolutely loathe it.

You, who has been in Blackstone Castle your whole life, climbed to the top of your class through your own blood, sweat, and tears. Whereas Namjoon, who was transferred to Blackstone at nineteen, came to the top because magic comes easily for him. It could take you hours to master one spell while he gets it on his first try. He aces his exams with his nose stuck in unrelated books and poems, while you spend hours trying to maintain your high scores.

He’s the worst. The most mildly-infuriating, petty walking disaster of a genius you’ve ever come across.

“Sorry, baby. You won’t be seeing me much at the lectures anymore.”

You blink at surprise. “What? Why?”

“Didn’t you hear?” one of his friends pipes up. “Our Namjoon passed his Harrowing this morning. The wardens said that he finished it in under an hour! That’s the fastest anyone has ever completed theirs!”

Your eyes widen. “You did the Harrowing?”

A small, tiny sense of relief blooms in your heart when he nods his head. Your academic rival didn’t go missing. He passed his Harrowing and he’s still here, now working at the library to become a scholar.

“Do you guys mind? I’d like to talk to her for a minute,” Namjoon says to his friends without taking his eyes off you. The two exchange looks with each other and agree to give you some privacy. But you don’t let your guard down, even after they leave.

“What is it, Joon?”

“I heard about Mina,” he starts carefully, his voice sincere. “Are you okay? I know she was your roommate.”

“I’m… a little shaken,” you admit, uncrossing your arms. It feels almost strange being this vulnerable with him, but if Namjoon already did his, then yours and Hoseok’s would be right around the corner. “I don’t know what happened to her. No one tells us anything. Do you know? What happened to her, I mean?”

A look of guilt flashes in his eyes. “I can’t tell you.”

You sigh. “Of course you can’t.”

“Listen, be careful when you go to the Veil,” he warns, eyeing around him as if he’s afraid someone will listen in. There’s hardly anyone else here except the scholars and a handful of students, but you and Namjoon are nowhere near eavesdrop distance from them. “There are dark energies everywhere. Not just in that realm.”

You frown at his warning and think back to what Hoseok said about Seokjin. About all the disappearances that’s been happening lately. About Mina.

“I can handle myself, Namjoon.”

There’s a warmth in his aura, in the deep dimples of his smile, in the way he looks at you then. He squeezes your arm gently. “I know you can. Just promise you’ll come back to me, okay?”

It isn’t until later that night when you and Seokjin finally talk.

“Who’s this?”

“A new friend,” you explain, waving him over to sit next to you. On your lap is the black kitten, bumping its tiny head against your hand for pets. “Hoseok and I found him this morning, but we haven’t thought of a name yet.”

The kitten looks over at him, curiosity shining in its bright eyes, and mewls. The cute sound makes both you and Seokjin gush. “Sounds like you’re planning to keep him.”

“Only if he wants to stay.” You watch as Seokjin holds out his hand, letting the kitten sniff him, before he gently rubs its head with his fingertips. It purrs under his touch, closing its eyes with content. “I hope he does.”

“Maybe he’ll become your … familiar?” He glances at you, checking if he used the correct word. He’s the only warden you know of who even bothers learning a mage’s terminology.

Like all the other Blackstone Wardens, he’s in uniform. Heavy armor made of material resistant to magic. Hidden within his reach are spell-breaking weapons and poisons meant to hinder your abilities. Things that could temporarily mute or blind you mid-incantation.

Had it been any other warden, you wouldn’t feel comfortable being this close to them.

From the moment a mage is set to live in their towers, wardens are assigned to guard them, watch them, and “handle” them if they show signs of becoming Wicked. Most, if not all, the wardens are Devoted – members of the ruling religious organization that believe people with your gift are the ban of all things evil.

Thus, many of them, in your humble opinion, are assholes.

You’ve heard the rumors. The open secret of what happens to mouthy, pretty mages and wardens with too much power and too little heart.

It’s atrociously easy for wardens to call an innocent apprentice Wicked. It’s equally alarming how many self-righteous Devotees take advantage of their position over people like you, coercing victims to do what they want or have them face the deadly consequences of false accusations. You’ve seen with your own eyes how fellow apprentices cry themselves to sleep at night, or become distant and fearful after surviving these awful predators. How some willingly refuse to do their Harrowing if their assailant is present, as this assessment would be when an apprentice is the most vulnerable.

Not Seokjin, though.

He’s … different from the others. He’s safe.

Safe enough that you know you can trust him.

“Jin…” Although your voice is quiet, it’s loud enough for him to hear. Loud enough for him to turn his attention to you. “Can you promise me something?”

He looks up at you. His eyes are so warm and pretty. They practically have stars in them. “What is it?”

“When I do my Harrowing, will you protect me?”

“You know I can’t interfere with your test,” he replies, his voice quiet.

“I know. I meant,” you fidget slightly. “my body. Could you watch over me? Make sure nothing happens to me when I’m in the Veil.”

“Of course.” He extends a pinky toward you. A gesture that makes you smile as you wrap your own pinky around his. He returns your smile and vows, “I’ll always protect you.”

As the days pass, the concern over Mina has died down. Instead, you hear rumors of another failed Harrowing. Another girl disappearing. But no one has any answers as to why this is happening.

The black kitten stayed with you and Hoseok for a couple more days until it fully healed. Then, without a word, it left too. But not without giving you a small token of appreciation.

That next morning, you found a Dzi bead on your pillow. A small, protective charm meant to bring the wearer good fortune, health, and luck.

Ironically, you had the gift in your hand when Seokjin came to your dorm again. He calls out your name, gently shaking your shoulder and stirring you from your sleep. There’s a sad smile on his handsome face as he tells you, “It’s your time.”

You must’ve fallen back to sleep.

On the edge of dreaming and waking, you could’ve sworn you heard a strange sound. Your brows furrow in wonder, but your eyes remain close.

You’re exhausted. The lulls of sleep call you like a siren song. Your body feels heavy, your head feels dizzy. All you want to do is lay still on the soft, cozy bed you’re on and let your dreams drift you away.

But something – someone – keeps you on the brink of consciousness. Again, you hear a peculiar sound. Louder this time than before.

Music?

When you open your eyes, you’re greeted with a familiar sight. Cold, dark stones cemented into an ominous, impenetrable tower. Cobble-pebbled patterns decorate the high ceilings. Moonlight shines through a single, small window and casts baleful shadows with its serene light.

Blackstone Castle. Or rather, a place that looks like it.

Growing up here, you know every nook and cranny of this place, and yet…

Something feels off.

It’s too spacious. Too quiet.

No snores of creaking beds from the other apprentices. No heavy, armored footsteps from the wardens during their nightly patrols. No stifled giggles or hushed voices from the enchanters as they pass through the corridors.

This isn’t a room you recognize, and this bed is far too comfortable to call your own.

Compared to your stiff bunk in the dorm, this canopy bed feels like a cloud. Soft. Fluffy. The sheets feel like silk against your bare skin. It reminds you of how tired you are to begin with. How heavenly a decent sleep sounds.

But the strange, distant melody keeps you from drifting completely.

And it’s only then that you realize you’re not alone.

There’s a weight over you, heavy and wrapped around you tightly. It keeps you secured to the cloud, trapping you in its hold. Warm breath tickets the back of your neck, and you could feel the rise and fall of a muscular chest against your bare back.

Terror strikes you wide awake.

Here you are, in a room you don’t recognize, sleeping on a stranger’s bed. Naked, and with no recollection of how you even got there.

Heart racing, you slowly flip over to face the stranger. A sharp gasp falls from your lips when you recognize who it is. “Seokjin?!”

The handsome warden grunts in response. Without opening his eyes, and with his voice in a deep, sleepy rumble, he tiredly asks, “What time is it?”

“Jin, what– how did we–” you stumble over your words as you sit up, pulling the sheets over your chest. “I can’t remember–”

Seokjin opens his eyes this time. Deep brown stares back at you. Ones that usually sparkle whenever he turns his gaze toward you. Ones that are full of warmth and stars.

One that makes you realize something is very off about Seokjin.

Instead, the eyes that look at you are cold and hollow, completely void of light. Terrifying, and yet, you can’t look away from them.

You try not to shiver when Seokjin raises his head from the pillow and sits up to face you. The sheets fall off his chest and down to his thin waist unceremoniously. A mischievous smirk dances on his lips as he leans toward you. “Shall I remind you?”

“We shouldn’t,” you whisper, darting your gaze at anything but him and his broad shoulders, his plush lips, his muscular abdomen. You know Seokjin is handsome – hell, he knows it, too – but this isn’t… He wouldn’t…

“Why not?” he asks, nearly pouting. His hand cups your face, thumb gently brushing your cheek. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” you reply. And it’s the truth. You trust Seokjin more than anyone.

He leans closer. The emptiness in his eyes are replaced with odd glints of gold. Mesmerizing. Hypnotizing. You barely hear his command.

“Then give in, little one.”

Your eyes flutter close as he presses soft kisses against your cheek, then along your jaw. The bedsheets no longer feel like fine silk against your fingers, but thin and transparent, even before he pries your hands open and lets the covering fall to your waist. You feel your heart to your throat as his lips travel to your neck, to your collarbone, to your breast.

It’s like your body has a mind of its own as your nod in consent, easily falling back on the cloud with the handsome warden on top of you.

Drifting. You feel yourself drifting.

A haze muddles your thoughts as Seokjin continues to press kisses against your skin. It feels good. You can feel yourself arching for more, preening to be held and touched. He smirks as he travels lower, dipping to your hips where he tugs off the remaining covers.

The melody in the background stutters, as if someone fumbled with the notes. It’s jarring enough to snap you out of the trance. To realize that Seokjin’s touch is burning as he pins you to the bed. To see that the eyes looking down at you are inhuman.

This isn’t Seokjin.

Seokjin is your warden. Your friend. The man you trust the most. He would never take advantage of you like this.

Snapping out of it, you shove down the building arousal and look around the room. Something is wrong. You have to get out of here. All your things are thrown on the floor, and there’s nothing within reach that you can use to defend yourself.

You’ll have to improvise.

Shutting your eyes, you try to keep focused. Little whimpers and shaky gasps escape your lips when you feel his mouth work against your core. His tongue and fingers distract you, eliciting waves of desire and pleasure.

The Seokjin look-alike sits up to peer down at you, brown eyes almost golden now as he seems to feed off your energy. Long fingers are still inside you, curling and pumping in and out, distracting him enough for you to strike.

Strength and light flow from your fingertips. Using that energy, you shove the stranger on top of you. The magic burns its bare chest as a demonic scream escapes its lips.

Your heart nearly stops when you hear the sound.

It’s Wicked.

When the imposter recoils, you stumble out of the bed and grab a simple black dress from the floor. There’s a small weight in one of the pockets, and when you reach inside, you recognize the shape of the kitten’s gift – something that won’t help you now. You don’t dare look back or think about how your legs are shaking as you throw your clothes on and run out the door. Your feet are flying without direction, lungs burning and legs aching, until you’re certain you’re far away from it. Until you’re certain it isn’t chasing you down.

So that’s Wicked. You’ve heard the enchanters talk about those doomed beings. Embodied vices of lust, pride, greed, envy, gluttony, sloth, and wrath that taint the mages, letting their powers corrupt them, until they are no longer human.

Your head doesn’t feel as hazy and your body doesn’t feel as lethargic since you’ve exited that room. It was a very close call. That entity with Seokjin’s face… You shudder to think of what could’ve happened if you stayed a minute longer.

Catching your breath, you take a moment to look at your surroundings. The hallways are similar to the castle, but long and winding. It almost makes you feel dizzy looking down at them. Lanterns and doorways mirror each other in endless paths.

You straighten up and reach toward a random door, opening it and stepping inside.

Only to find yourself in a similar hallway.

What?

With a frown, you reach for another door. One on your right this time, instead of directly in front of you.

But it’s the same damn thing. Same endless, dark hallways. Same dimly-lit lanterns. Same identical doorways. No matter how many you go through, you’re stuck in a loop.

Panic crawls beneath your skin when a low growl emits from the hallway.

That Wicked is still after you, and it’s angry.

Who knows if the next door you choose will lead you closer to it. Or if it will have you stuck in a repeating maze until it catches up.

Just when it feels like all hope is lost, you hear it.

The melody from earlier. It sounds like it’s coming through one of the doors.

With nothing else to lose, you open it and step inside, knowing that the Wicked will get you if you stay where you are. You’re in an identical hallway, but this time, the music comes from a different door. Then, another door. And another door.

You’ve lost count of how many you’ve gone through. Could be dozens. Could be hundreds. But every time, it feels like you’re getting a bit closer and closer to the source.

And then, finally, you open a door and no longer find yourself in a dreary hallway.

Emerald-green walls paint the candle-lit room, causing haunting shadows to dance with the burning glow of the fires. A fence with a tarp cages a black, grand piano. And inside is a man with pale skin that contrasts his black hair.

Of all the things in the room, his aura seems to shine the brightest.

He doesn’t notice you as his fingers continue to play the beautiful instrument, its melody drawing you closer and closer.

You’re practically standing next to the pianist when the song ends and he finally addresses you. “Can I help you with something?”

“I…” you pause, almost forgetting why you’re here. “You play so beautifully.”

His eyes flicker away for a brief moment, taken aback by the sudden compliment. Even more so with how such a simple sentence stirs something he’s forgotten so long ago. He rephrases his question. “What do you want?”

You don’t answer him right away. The two of you stare at each other as the candle wax burns and the shadows around the room continue to sway. Then, you reach into the pocket of your dress and pull out the token the kitten gifted you, resting it on top of your piano.

His eyes widen when he sees it. Then, he takes it in his hand.

“There’s something after me.”

Dark eyes linger off the charm and onto your face. His gaze is intense but strangely familiar. “He won’t get you in here. This area isn’t in his boundaries.”

“But I can’t stay here, either.”

The pianist raises an eyebrow at you, seeming surprised by your statement. You suppose he had expected you to accept his refuge, but you know you’re losing precious time. You know that you’re in the Veil and this is your Harrowing.

“You’re a smart one,” he says after a moment, almost impressed. To your dismay, he hands back the token and turns back to his piano. A new melody begins. “I won’t keep you here, but I can’t help you. Your protection charm is no use to me here.”

The door you came from opens. Back to where that monster with Seokjin’s face is waiting for you. Back to where you can almost feel the bloodlust from the other side.

“I’m willing to bargain.”

That catches his attention. His hands still, the music stops. The shadows against the wall seem to pause and stare at you, silent witnesses to what’s about to happen. Words from the instructor echo in your head, but it’s too late. The words already left your mouth.

And the pianist, with his dark, intense, feline eyes – tinted with a golden amber reflected from the candlelight – stands before you. “What’s your offer?”

“Ah, little one. You finally came out of hiding,” the one with Seokjin’s face smiles devilishly as you approach him. “Shall we continue where we left off?”

Thrown to the wolves, you feel terrified. You have nothing but the clothes on your back, a beaded charm, and a half-assed plan. None of your lectures, nothing you’ve ever read or practiced, could have prepared you for this. The monster at the crossroad. The hungry wolf hunting you down like prey.

But you can’t be scared. Not now when the enemy is right in front of you.

“You’re the one responsible for all the missing girls.”

His broad shoulders shake with sadistic laughter.

“That I am! You impress me, little one. Those stupid girls never even escaped that room. Always falling into their desires, they don’t realize how much time has passed. How cold their physical bodies become while their souls are in my hands. They practically beg me to turn them Wicked, to devour their humanity,” he shamelessly admits, bringing his hands to cup his jawline. “This face of that warden you all desire – he’s made the hunting so much easier. Isn’t that right, friend?”

He’s addressing the pianist now. You turn to him with a frown. “You killed those girls too?”

“I see he hasn’t told you of our arrangement,” the wolf says, staring at his partner. “His music lures in the ones who get away. Baits them right into his little cage where he can trap them for as long as he desires.”

“Sorry,” the pianist finally speaks. “I have a new contract now.”

The wolf’s smile falters. “You’re betraying me? For this human?”

“You killed my friends!” you tell the wolf, drawing his attention back to you. Thinking about Mina. Thinking about all the other apprentices who’ve failed their Harrowings because of them. Those who never became mages, who’ve lost their dreams and their humanity. “I’ll make you pay for what you’ve done!”

“We shall see,” the wolf replies, bearing its large teeth at you. In an inhuman speed, the wolf lunges at you. The pianist pushes you out of the way at the last second as the two demons tumble to the ground.

“Find a weapon!” the pianist yells, crying out in pain when the wolf bites into his shoulder. You scramble to your feet, looking for a wand, a staff, something. The crossroads doesn’t provide you much of anything, and your hand encloses around the charm in your pocket, anxious and stressed.

Until you realize the charm has changed shape.

In a mysterious realm where willpower is the key to survival, you don’t have time to question it as you cast a spell to knock the wolf off the pianist. The Seokjin-lookalike lands roughly on the dirt-pathed ground, but you don’t give it time to recover as two more spells fire from your wand.

“Stupid girl!” the demon roars, moving to attack, its fingers extending into claws. You manage to put up a barrier at the last second, shielding yourself and the pianist. The wolf roars in frustration, running back and body slamming against your shield. To your horror, the transparent spell begins to crack.

“Listen, you have to drop your barrier,” the pianist tells you as the attacks become harder and faster, causing jagged rips along your magic. “Drop it and attack him on my count.”

You look at him like he’s insane. “You were partners with this guy! How will I know you won’t betray me?”

“You don’t,” he says as the wolf continues its relentless attacks. It won’t be long until it shatters completely. “But we made a contract.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoes, nodding his head. Your defense is breaking. One more hit, and you’re done. “One… two…”

On three, just as the wolf is about to give the final blow, you strike. A bright ball of light shoots from your wand, bigger than any spell you’ve cast so far. It sends the wolf back and knocks him out for good.

It’s over.

Out of breath, you collapse on the ground. The wand you use changes back into a charm, and the pianist stands beside you in shock. He holds his arm as blood seeps through his white shirt, but he doesn’t pay any mind to it as he states, “You … You actually did it. You defeated him.”

“Yeah…” you sigh, equally in disbelief. You’ve never had to fire off that many spells at once. You’re exhausted, dead on your feet, but you finally notice the injury on the pianist’s arm. “Wait, let me heal you.”

“You still want to help me? After what I’ve done?”

“We made a contract,” you remind him, holding out hand and letting the warmth spread from you to him. You feel even dizzier, more so than when you helped the kitten. “This is the second time I had to do this for you, you know.”

“You know it’s me, huh?” A small smile appears on the pianist’s mouth. His dark eyes – ones identical to the black kitten – seem to be full of admiration when he looks at you. “You really are a clever girl.”

The Devoted teaches that all magic is a source of wicked power, and that those born with the abilities to manipulate those unnatural forces are cursed.

But they’re wrong.

History remembers the wicked and their dark rituals, their forbidden magic, and their insatiable vices. They completely erase the wisdom and beauty bestowed upon their world through magic. They forget about the brave mages who fought along historic heroes in their quests, or the wise healers in villages that the Devoted haven’t influenced. They tear away young children from their families, imprison potential spell-casters from the world, shun them for their gift, hunt them down for simply existing.

Over the years, young apprentices would come to the Veil, fresh and unprepared to face the entities that rule this realm. It’s a sadistic rite of passage that the Devoted created to prove a young mage’s worth. Throwing their spirits to the wolves, defenseless and scared, as the Wicked feeds off their energies, eager to corrupt and consume. Leaving the physical forms behind, vulnerable, unconscious, and in the mercy of those sending them to the Veil.

The pianist has been in this realm for a very long time. He no longer remembers his past, nor does he care about the person he was. All he knows is his piano and the music he creates that fills his lonely eternity with life and magic.

For far too long, he’s seen apprentice after apprentice fail their Harrowing. He’s seen the look of defeat in their eyes once a mage awakens and finds themselves in this world. He’s seen Wicked, like his old partner, toy with these lost souls like predators that play with their meals. He’s grown numb to the horrors and anguish that surrounds him with their defeat.

His partner, the wolf, has become greedy with their arrangement. A deal that they made long ago: should an apprentice escape the wolf’s den and find themselves in the music room, the wolf can’t touch them. Not when they’re still within his boundaries.

Sometimes, they hide too long. Their physical bodies become cold, and their connection to the mortal realm weakens. That’s what happened to your friend, Mina, who sought sanctuary from the wolf, but didn’t leave until it was too late. Her soul is forever trapped like a bird in a cage. And the wolf, constantly on the prowl of those who got away, waits just outside the border with all the patience in the world.

His somber melodies play as souls like hers begin to accept that she’ll never return to her body. They play in triumph as souls like Namjoon, who enters a different part of the Veil, faces his fears and vanquishes his own demon. They play for souls like yours, luring you away from the wolf, bringing you safely to him.

He first met you in a different form, one of a small cat on the brink of death. For just a few days, he sees through its eyes the person you are: brave, kind, and clever. You have a potential he hasn’t seen in another apprentice in years.

The feeling only amplifies when you find him in the Veil and offer the token he had gifted you, placing it on his piano in exchange for his aid against his greedy partner. One that he returns back to you with a spell of transformation, allowing you to change its shape once and for a short time.

You’re incredibly special. That much is clear to him from the moment he met you.

However, he’s starting to suspect you’re more special to him than he thought.

“What do you want?” you ask him in response to his question, holding his gaze.

It almost sounds naÏve coming from your mouth, but something tells him that you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into.

“You,” he simply says. “You’re what I want.”

“That’s a high demand for one Wicked. Name something else.”

“Who’s to say this is the only Wicked you’ll face? There are many dangers here, but some of the most vile creatures are the humans from your realm.”

It makes his blood boil. Feelings that he hasn’t felt in so long surfacing.

You’re quiet for a moment, then you propose, “Well, if it’s me that you want, then it’s only fair that you become mine too. I don’t want just help for this Wicked. I want you to be my partner.”

The pianist looks at your extended hand and the certainty in your eyes. His large hand practically swallows yours as he shakes it. “I accept.”

And so, a deal between two souls is made.

When you wake from your Harrowing, you find yourself in the arms of the handsome warden, who took care of you just as he promised he would. You’re engulfed in a hug from your best friend, screaming his congratulations and relieved that you’re safe. A sentiment he shares with your academic rival, who throws you a proud, dimpled smile when your eyes meet his.

No longer an apprentice, there are new changes with your schedule around the castle. But there’s one thing you’re adamant about keeping the same: you and Hoseok, beneath the old tree that’s become a favorite spot for you two.

And it’s in that place where you and the pianist meet again.

“Oh, our son is back!” Hoseok exclaims, smiling brightly at the black kitten. It meows at him, as if saying that he’s home. He reaches over and scratches the top of its head. “I guess it wants to stay with us. Have you thought of a name yet?”

“Yeah.” You give your new familiar a knowing smile, remembering the bright, shining aura he had in the Veil. “Let’s call him Yoongi.”

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#magic shop series #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #seokjin x reader #bts magic au #bts witch au #bts fantasy au #bts au #bts fanfic

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florbelles · 4 years

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All odd NSFW asks for my beloved cult daughter-in law! I promise this won't make it back to the Resistance. 🐍💕

here we are, lovely. evens answered here with all the freak stuff.

nsfw. tw lyra-typical content.

note that i’ve used “husband” where both john & wes are applicable, names where it’s specific to one (1) of the ferretbrooks men

01. when did they lose their virginity?

in the conscious “i am going to fuck” sense, she was 14; it was the son of one of the summer families on the island, he was older and smuggled whiskey and cigarettes out to the beach for her. arguably it was a bit earlier than that, depending on how hard you want to drive the definition; she’d messed around a bit with past friends & roommates at school, but nothing serious.

the boy never knew, for what that’s worth; she didn’t lie, he simply didn’t ask, and that’s how she preferred it.

03. what is the weirdest place they’ve had sex?

by whose definition?

lyra generally has more abnormality in circumstance than physical location ( her judge chambers, john’s confession room, the altar in the compound church, that time she got railed against a tree to the screams of sinners roasting on a pyre ) but to her they’re all simply tuesday.

having said that, if there’s a place sex is physically a viable option, she’s probably fucked there tbh

05. are they dominant, submissive, or switch?

switch. with men, historically, she was more likely to be dominant, but given that the vast majority of them were strangers she met along the road and/or targets of a conjob or murder, that was more about maintaining control & a protective measure than any personal preference ( much like leaving her shoes on; john is the first person she fucks barefoot in the entirety of her life ). there’s a reason lust isn’t one of her sins despite her expansive experience; for most of her life, sex was a weapon, a tool, or an outlet for her to self-medicate, not a driving force for its own sake.

having established that, she enjoys going both ways; with john it’s very much either/or because they both tip more towards the bossy bottom bitch end of the spectrum but Also enjoy absolutely railing their bossy bottom bitch partner, so it works well for them. wes is more likely to top despite being a switchlord himself because he generously indulges her ( their ) secret inner simp(s).

she inherently lets women get away with more, so she’s more likely to sub with them, but she doesn’t mind domming/topping. much like positions, she prefers variety; she wouldn’t want to be one or the other all the time.

07. would they be more likely to do it in the bed, on the couch, on the floor, or somewhere else?

lyra will fuck on literally any surface available; her blood runs hot and so do her impulses, so wherever the urge strikes ( as it often does ). statistically speaking, she probably has more sex in bed than any other single location purely out of convenience; it’s where they are in the morning and it’s where they end up at night. a close second would be the shower, but there’s not a place in the ranch that hasn’t been desecrated ( rip to the cleaners and to shaggy specifically ). having said that, other highlights include against trees, in the dirt, on bearskin rugs, on the cement floors of the bunker, on tables and desks, that poor couch, yeah, the plane, the plane got desecrated, what about it,

09. have they ever been caught masturbating?

sure, especially in boarding school, where she invariably had roommates. it’s not a major life event, though.

11. how often do they have sex?

she ain’t just soaking in that tub every day for the fun of it honey

lyra being very much Like That, it’s usually every day, multiple times a day. in canon that’s partly because she and john don’t really have long enough to move past the stage of physical obsession with each other ( though how much they really would have progressed in that department is debatable because they are Them ).

that’s just with john, so imagine how much worse it is in ferretbrooks verse where there’s Two Husbands, oh god there’s gonna be a prolapse situation

all jests aside, physicality is the way lyra is best at expressing love and intimacy, so she seeks it out wherever and whenever she can. she loves the permanent pleasant soreness between her thighs and in her muscles because it's a reminder of what she has; the ache of its absence later is excruciating.

13. do they like giving oral?

she loves it ( in all forms ). lyra’s extremely mouthy in all aspects. going down on her partners is one of her preferred forms of sex and is also her biggest unhorrific turn-on; she’s highly voyeuristic and loves watching them, hearing them, tasting them, feeling the muscles in their thighs twitch, cleaning them with her mouth post-coitus.

15. what is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to them during sex?

the mortifying ordeal of openly weeping during sex because you love your husband so much. also the mortifying ordeal of loving your husband so much.

17. what is a song they’d listen to during soft/slow/passionate sex?

here

lyra would much prefer to hear herself and her partner; she never intentionally puts music on during sex.

19. would they prefer sex in the tub or sex in the shower?

she’s more likely to have sex in the shower simply both out of efficiency and the greater position range ( her preferred shower sex position is with her leg over her partner’s shoulder ) in addition to weeping potential but she enjoys both; she’s more likely to engaging heavy petting/making out in the bath and fucking After, though.

21. have they ever had a threesome? if not, would they?

lyra has both thrown and attended her share of orgies in her day, so yes, absolutely. perhaps more pertinently she’s in polyamorous marriages across the multiverse ( because of her history with her father and who she is as a person, infidelity/lying/betraying a partner is something she’s physically incapable of doing; poly/open relationships or orgies are the only circumstances where multiple partners are possible for her ). special mention goes to shaggy who, while never having any form of sexual or romantic contact with either of them, is john & lyra’s long-suffering third ( and fairbrooks’ long-suffering fourth ).

23. have they ever given someone a dirty text/letter/picture?

please refer to the bit about her exhibitionist tendencies from installment i.

in all seriousness, she’s more likely to give her partners an actual physical photo of herself or a a handwritten, perfumed, lipstick-printed note ( no, she does not ordinarily wear lipstick, yes, she put on lipstick for that specifically, why do you ask ) that’s some convoluted but poetic variation of “hurry home so i can suck you dry xx” than she is to text anything. ( with her darling dear deputy wes she’s also quite fond of erotic radio broadcasts, though those are usually vaguely threatening in nature and sexy to absolutely no one but herself and their unfortunate recipient. what do you mean describing the way she’s going to crucify his friends along the main road isn’t romantic? ) she also abuses the radios with john, but those calls are simply to conspire trysts, not engage in verbal foreplay ( yes, they’re married and live together, what about it? ).

25. is there anything they do after sex? (ex: smoke, eat, drink, cuddle)

lyra’s sleeping/clinging habits have been described extensively in the past ( in that she’s invariably completely twined and tangled with her partner in a confusion of limbs, usually facing them, usually nuzzling their neck ), and those are more or less applicable here regardless of whether or not she’s actually going to sleep; she likes the hold her partner and watch them, stroke their hair/beard/face/back. she’s a nudger, she expresses post-coital fondness nose-first. if sleep isn’t imminent and she has cigarettes on hand ( she usually does ) she’ll light up, but that’s less a post-sex ritual and more her permanent state of being.

this is all only applicable with her husband/spouse(s), though; with casual encounters she’s a hit and run.

27. do they prefer morning sex or night sex?

both, but secretly she prefers mornings; that’s when she’s at her most affectionate. she makes love in the morning, still too comfortably sleepy to pretend to be anything but deliriously happy and desperately in love, and she’s all heavy lids and upturned lips she kisses swollen and slow rocking hips; the point isn’t to get each other off as it is to be together and have that intimacy & closeness. lyra’s always going to be most comfortable expressing her love with her body, it’s why she’s so deeply physical. it’s also the real reason john actually drags his beauty sleep requiring bitch ass out of bed to watch the sunrise with her every morning.

29. what is their favourite body part on the same sex?

the whole ass woman.

#good MORNING #oc: lyra fairbanks #nsft #answered #risenlucifer

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