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mirahuyooo · 1 year

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Stranded (I) | jhs

— But, darling, if you hadn’t fallen, you wouldn’t have met him—the one who’ll render you mad and drunk with his love so much that you’ll never want to find sanity again.

word count: 10,458 (PART I) contents: ANGST, fLUff, drAMa, Theseus, stages of grief but its kinda all over the place, rUNAWAY PRINCESS!!! yikes, betrayal yIKES, implied drugging, hEARTBREAK, you have a sucky sucky childhood, daddy issues, a lot of artistic interpretation but I think this is my most favorite one AAAAAA, not necessarily accurate (i mixed up a lot of versions and made up some shit), a bit historical?? idk anymore, Greek Mythology AU pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader Inspired by Dionysus and Ariadne

[masterlist] | check out [Elysian Tales] & [BTS as Greek Myth Icons]!

A/N: HeRE iT ISSS! I HAVE BEEN SO EXCITED TO FINISH THIS LIL SHIT Hobi’s story is an ABSOLUTE favorite 😭💖

P.S. i've divided these into three due to limit issues so stay tune for the next part! ☆⌒(*＾-゜)v

START. | ▷ 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽

A heavy feeling rests in the pit of your stomach, as the ship continues to sail away from the land that birthed and raised you. That island was all you had ever known and yet there it was, having gone much smaller as time progressed—even the grand palace is now barely visible from such a distance, much more the people trying to pursue you.

You have committed treason—something you were well aware of. You had betrayed your father as an accomplice to your monster of a half-brother’s murder and had eloped with the very man who took its life.

A large part of you argues that you had done the right thing. Your half-brother was a vicious monster, who had slaughtered innocents in the maze you were forced to represent. He was an accursed reminder of the atrocity your late mother had done. Before his death, you had witnessed first hand the people being fed into the labyrinth as some sickening game guised as a sacrifice.

You, as your father's daughter, had been made mistress of the labyrinth as soon as you came of age—subjected to all sorts of pleas, cursing, and threats that its victims had thrown at you. Their voices echo hauntingly in your head, as the memory of people walking into that dark pit and never returning constantly mar your mind. It is a nightmare you cannot escape from.

But that, now, has changed.

You, as princess of your people, have done justly to assist a foreigner in ending such pandemonium. The Minotaur is dead and with that, you have greatly helped in ending your father’s cruelty. You are a hero.

So, why does it feel like something’s amiss?

“Princess?”

A voice greets you from behind, startling you into staring away from the kingdom you were leaving behind. Butterflies erupt as you see Theseus before you with the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on his striking features. You smile softly as he lightly bows to you. “Theseus,” your voice radiates adoration as you say his name. “What brings you here?”

The chill wind of early autumn tousles his dark brown locks as he stares towards the fading form of Crete with you. “We will be stopping at the island of Naxos in a few hours,” he tells you with a side glance your way. “The captain and I deemed it best to rest there for a while and replenish any supplies we lost.”

“Of course. That seems sound,” you could only nod, not knowing much of maritime welfare after all. What you do know, however, was that the sea was as fickle as the god that reigned over it. You supposed that it was better to prepare for any catastrophe, than to expect everything to be smooth sailing.

Feeling a hand on the small of your back, you come back to your senses, only to see Theseus waiting for you. Only then did you also realize that on your shoulders was his cloak. It envelops you with warmth. “It’s late, princess,” he nods towards the quarters. “It’s been a long day, too. You must sleep.”

Words coming out a stammer, you clutch the cloak in your hands. “Yes,” you shyly blush as your heart hammers in your chest, “You too.”

The hero beside you smiled kindly, gesturing with his hand this time. “Let us go then,” he invites you, warmly—and for someone so used to the dark, cold walls of Crete, you couldn’t help but swoon.

What a blessed woman you are.

You arrive at Naxos around late in the afternoon, taking a small boat or two with Theseus and a few members of the ship to a secluded part of the island while the rest stay to man the ship at a distance. Docking a great distance away from a small town, the land that greets you and takes you away from the roughhousing of the waves greatly comforts you. There were big rocks surrounding the little beach—something Theseus thought would do well to hide and border the camp.

A group began laying out the tents for the night, many hands trying to make quick work. You did your best to assist them in any way, but you were met either with cold glares or dismissive waves. You then attempted to help a frail boy struggling to carry a crate, but he, too, doesn't seem so fond of you. "I'll be fine in the hands of my people, princess," said the boy, voice calm but eyes failing to hide his contempt, as another fellow came to help him instead.

It was clear to you.

You may have aided their hero in slaying the Minotaur, but your conscience and reputation was still drenched by the blood of their people—the people that you couldn't save any sooner. In their eyes, you were still a princess of Crete—still the mistress of the maze that brought them before the gates of the Underworld.

And so, you endure their unwelcoming gaze, looking for something else to make yourself useful—for something else to prove you worthy of their trust.

While the experienced went to hunt animals for a meal tonight and the journey ahead, there were others that were tasked to retrieve some supplies from the local town. You decide to join them, but, in an instant, you are pulled aside by Theseus, who was already dressed for the hunt. "Where are you going?" he asks, voice hushed but with a little panic.

Furrows form between your brows as his sudden interruption holds you aback. "I want to help," you earnestly declare, but the conviction wasn't quite present, so you clarify yourself further. "I will accompany them to town an—"

"We cannot risk you to be seen in town, (Y/N)," Theseus exasperates, harsh tone taking you aback. "It'll bring us more trouble than we already have."

Your hastening heart seemed to stop altogether. "Ah… right…"

How come you never thought of that, (Y/N)?

He sharply inhales, breathing almost stopping altogether, upon seeing the flash of hurt in your eyes, your determination faltering. Theseus eases a little then, lacing a hand in yours while the other caresses your cheek. "Why don't you…" his mind reels as he thinks of a compromise, "why don't you help gather some wood for the fire later?"

Your eyes lit for a moment, but soon began to contemplate. Wood for the fire—yes. That seems accomplishable.

"Alright," you say, mustering a meek smile as you did.

With that Theseus called forth a young man. Andreas, he addressed him—the same boy that had refused your help with the crate earlier. "Take her with you to fetch some firewood," he tells him, and while the boy nods, you could tell he was hesitant.

Theseus turns back to you with a smile, happy to have settled this. The fabric that embraced your shoulders was moved to shield your face, his careful touch tingling against your skin. "Be careful," Theseus then instructs, urging you to still keep your identity secret, lest your father had sent out soldiers for either of your capture.

"You, too," you attempt to smile, a hand gently squeezing his own before the two of you part, worried but hopeful.

Andreas never spoke a word with you as the both of you gathered what you needed from the forest. In your arms were a bundle of sticks you thought were similar to what you saw him pick up. You couldn't really find it within you to ask, for fear of being seen bothersome by the lad.

"Why help us now?"

You nearly jump at the sudden words that reach you. Looking up, the young boy was standing a few feet ahead of you, his back turned as he did. "I'm sorry?" You stammer, unsure of what he meant. "What do you mean to say?"

You were greeted by a ferocious glare. "You let us suffer for years, but now you helped our people escape," Andreas sneered, "why?"

Tears sting your eyes but you blink them back. "I…" you began, but your mind seemed to run blank. "I needed strength," you say, mustering enough words to express your thoughts, "and a chance to go against my father..."

"Your prince is both," you give the boy a soft smile, hoping it would ease him.

Theseus was your key—not only to freedom, but also for repentance.

Still, the young boy scowls, brows furrowing so deep together that you fear they might never go back to normal. "I know my sins cannot be absolved for doing this," you plead, taking a step forth, "but I swear, I never found any joy in your suffering."

Andreas scoffs, but says nothing. He, instead, goes back to his task of collecting firewood and ignoring your existence. A shaky outbreath escapes you along with a few tears running down your cheeks but you wipe them away and focus on your task, too.

Idly tying the bundle with a rope, you began to think of your future.

Theseus had promised to make you his queen upon returning to Athens, but how easy would that flow, if your history as mistress of the labyrinth remained in their minds? What queen would be welcomed and loved that way?

You sigh and push such thoughts away. You'll deal with it when it comes, you tell yourself. A long journey awaits you, and you haven't even made it to Athens yet. Surely, a time will come for you to show your promising prowess to the people.

With that hope, you were a little more resolved and ready to return to reality, taking more time in indulging yourself with your surroundings.

The island was very much smaller than the kingdom you were accustomed to, but it certainly felt much more welcoming. Nature surrounded you as leaves crunched at each step beneath you. The sky in a blur of warm colors being tainted with the impending night.

It felt oddly serene—more soothing than you have been treated at the camp. A part of you was tempted to stay here instead.

Then, it came to you.

You were alone.

Heart shattering just a little, you stood up from where you were crouching. All around you was darkness. "A-Andreas?" you call out, voice shaking as you look into the expanse of the forest. "Where are you?"

Instead of a response, your ears pick up the sound of music instead—a flute perhaps, being played somewhere, but the direction seemed to lead further into the forest rather than out. Goosebumps littered your skin from the cold and the shiver that ran down your spine. It may be someone from the town, or a group of travellers like your own, you reason, but such news would either be bad for someone in hiding like you.

"Lost, are we?"

There was a sudden voice that filled the air—slurred but mischievous—rendering you to drop a few sticks as you whirl around like a fool looking for the source.

Who was that?

"Up here, dear."

The voice says again, the sound luring your eyes towards a tree nearby. Splayed across a big branch above was a dashing man—ethereal, really—looking down at you through barely opened eyes, as the early autumn wind gently blew on the part of his robe that dangled from the tree. He gives you a lazed grin as he pulls out a small flask from somewhere behind him. "Would you like some?" he then asks as he takes a generous swig of the drink, thin droplets of watery red running down his chin and onto his collarbone.

Is that wine?

Taken aback by his presence, you tear your eyes away from the stranger and gather what had escaped from your grasp moments before. He's inviting—tempting—but you mustn't stray. "No need, sir," you politely tell him, "I'm not thirsty."

No less from a stranger.

The young man nonchalantly shrugs. "Shame," he says, taking another swig as he makes no further comment.

You couldn't bear to dilly dally any further either—no, not with the darkened sky already upon you. Wait… a dark sky?!

With the realization that the night was settling in, panic settled in you. "Oh no," you huff, hurriedly gathering the ends of your dress to ready yourself to bolt back to the camp. "You should get down there before you fall, sir," you give the stranger a hastened smile. "Farewell!"

Not waiting for his response, you ran.

—and run you did.

It was ungraceful—something your late governess would've greatly frowned upon—but you make it back with only a few moments of getting lost. Your chest heaved as sweat ran down your skin, but the proud look you had on your face for coming back soon fell.

There was a bonfire already lit in the center of the camp, bright as could be.

The chatter lessens at your arrival, a few looking at your disheveled state, while Theseus approaches you. "What happened?" he asks, brows furrowed. "Andreas said you walked off on your own."

You glanced at the boy, who immediately avoided your eyes, almost sorry for what he did. Forcing a smile, you turn your attention back to Theseus and give him the bundles you gathered as you went along with the boy’s narrative so he wouldn’t be in trouble. "Yes, well," you cleared your throat, "I thought I saw something, and became distracted. I'm sorry."

Theseus doesn't question you any further, only nodding as he looks at the wood you gave him. "Ah…" he then grins, throwing a stick or two into the already roaring flames. "Thank you for these," he says in an attempt to assure you, "it'll keep the fire alive tonight."

You muster a smile back, nodding as you watch the fire crackle strongly before you. "Ah…" you idly hum, "you're welcome."

A nasty bout of hurt and irk began to bubble within you at how effectively useless your help was. You see the amount of wood Andreas gathered, realizing that, with how many they were, they only made your meager bundle useless. You could've easily not accompanied him and the group would've been fine for the night. Your effort and time was wasted, and yet remembering the weight of the situation is the water that douses your fury.

The people here have been hurt by your kingdom, and Theseus was the one that came to save them from their terrible fate.

Even if you are to have Theseus by your side, it comes to you very well that you are the foreigner amongst them—one against many, with no favors amidst your graces other than Theseus' gratitude and affections. You cannot give them your fury—not fully at the very least.

And so, you sat idly by the fire, listening to their merry chatter in your silence. The fire began to seem like images at some point—people dancing, twinkling stars, a merriment unlike any other—and it coaxes the beginnings of a smile out of you.

"Here."

Knocked out of your stupor, you look up at whoever sat beside you and see Theseus with a bowl of some soup. You gingerly take it from his hands. "Thank you," you meekly say, taking an idle spoonful to your mouth.

All the while, Theseus makes an attempt to salvage the silence between you both. "We caught two boars in the forest," he began, nodding towards the canopy of trees surrounding the camp. "A few of the others took one of the boats back to the ship to give the meat of one boar to the rest there."

You hum, scooping one of the meat chunks in your bowl. "Sounds wonderful," you tell him politely as you chew, "the cook did great work with the soup, as well."

Such words were a bit coated with sugar. No one will like the salt of the thoughts sitting in the back of your mind—not when any of you are in a position to complain when survival is essential. It wasn't the tastiest of meals you've ever had—the flavors clash at some bites—but it should fill the belly just enough.

Next to you, the Athenian hero nods thoughtfully. “Ah, yes, Leda managed to make a meal out of what little we had,” he hums, “I’ll let her know you liked it.”

With nothing more to say, you only nod, not forcing yourself in engaging idle chatter with him. You didn't have it in you to. You suppose that after the journey you feel… tired? despondent?

Either way, your lack of motivation easily lets silence conquer the air between you and Theseus. He didn't seem to mind, spending time conversing with the captain about the boat and the travel ahead—a talk which easily slips past your head as you lose your train of thought in a daze looking at the racking fire ahead.

Your bowl lasts a little under half-filled in your hands by the time you decide on the last spoonful for your fill of dinner. A light chill of the sea breeze comes and goes, making you take your shawl off your head and wrap it around your shoulders once more.

The stretch of standing up bears a light grunt from your lips, catching Theseus' attention. "I think I'd like to go and rest now," you softly declared with a tired, tight-lipped smile—an excuse really but it wasn't a complete lie.

Theseus looks quite surprised by your announcement. "Already?" he says, almost to himself, "but you haven't finished the bowl…"

You fluster, but hand him the bowl nonetheless. "I apologize for wasting, but I really am full," you say. “The day has been… eventful. I think some shut eye would be good."

A furrow forms between Theseus’ brows, but he questions you no further. "Alright…" he sighs, pointing to a tent ahead. “That tent, over there, is yours,” he tells you, watching as you nod and smooth out your dress.

He, too, soon stands up, but he offers you a smile instead of walking you to your tent. "Sleep well, princess.”

Eyelids already growing heavy, you could only hum as you tread through the sand. "Good night."

The dream that Morpheus brings you that night was bizarre for someone who has lived the way you have.

You were in a palace of sorts, though you hadn't any idea where and why.

Around you were drunken bodies who surrendered to the feel of the music that clouded the entire room. The melody of a flute lingers in the air and though you can't quite tell where you've heard it from, it’s somewhat familiar.

You, yourself, were feeling light-headed, swaying to the music. Someone brings a chalice to your lips and you let them.

The wine dances along your tongue—so addicting that you couldn't help but gulp more.

"That’s right, drink," said a soft voice in your head, encouraging you further. "Ease yourself from your worries."

You almost do.

—but someone in the distance catches your eye. Standing in the midst of the sea of people, he stares at you relentlessly, and your heartbeat races and the haze in your head wears itself down. You forget whoever it was that handed you the chalice, forget them as you continue to look in the distance.

He's gone.

Where is he?

The world begins to spin around you—so dizzying that it makes you clutch your head.

Still, you try to reach where your eyes last saw him.

"Theseus?"

Your eyes had trouble fluttering open, but as soon as you did you were stricken with a pounding in your head. Was it possible for a dream to have such an effect? What was the dream even trying to say?

A groan leaves your lips, eyebrows scrunched together at the unpleasant feeling. The pain doesn't ease soon, and you attempt to massage it away, but as you move your hand, you become aware of the emptiness at your side. All of a sudden, it became so easy to forget the dream that you had.

Brows knitting much closer in confusion, you will yourself to get up and look around.

The tent is empty—almost untouched.

Has Theseus and the others gotten up already?

There was an attempt to stand and look around even more, your legs shaking as you do so. The clay pitcher on a nearby crate leads you to become aware of just how much your throat feels parched. Paradoxically, you also have the urge to vomit.

Nonetheless, you made a grab for the pitcher. The water flows down your throat in greedy gulps as you shakily hold it in your hands. Your headache slightly eases, but it's inconvenience is still there to torment you.

What did you eat last night to upset your head and stomach so?

Crawling out of the tent, the striking sun glared down at you so much that another hiss leaves your lips. You were only plunged further into bafflement, shielding your face from the heat. Seeing the sun so high up in the sky could only mean that it's well around noon alre—

Where's everyone?

All too suddenly, you were wide awake. Your hand falls to your side, letting the blistering heat of the sun strike down onto you. The deafening silence around you mirrors your thoughts as you try to take in what was going on.

The fire had long extinguished, leaving only charred wood and ashes.

There were no longer other tents but your own.

Most hauntingly, the ship was no longer at the visible distance as it was before.

At that moment, you couldn't breathe.

It takes everything in you to will yourself to move, carefully walking around what used to be the camp the crew had set up not more than half a day ago. There had been three or four more tents set alongside yours. There had been a large cauldron for the soup over the fire. There had been crates of supplies gathered from their hunt and travel around the nearest town.

All of that, gone.

Your eyes were frantically scanning for answers—anything to make sense of it all. There were marks in the sand—movement, many of them, leading to where the boats used to be. These were the telltale signs that you refused to believe.

Your heart pounded against your chest, and even as the wind blew your hair over your face, you didn't move an inch—couldn't—in your disbelief. "No," the word crawls out of your lips, hoarse from both sleep and hurt. You rub at your teary eyes furiously—even as they hurt.

"Wake up, (Y/N)," you tell yourself, "Wake up."

In the distance, you see the rocks that surround the beach, and an idea immediately comes to you. With barely any hesitation, you run—stumble—towards them, all as pebbles, shells, coarse sand, and force make your feet hurt instantly, but the panic in your veins rendered you reckless and desperate.

The struggle in climbing the harsh terrain was immediate for someone like you, who was taught to never do such rowdy, unladylike activities, but you couldn't bring yourself to give a damn at that moment. It could be the very key to the answer you were looking for.

And, unfortunately, it was.

The sea breeze blew the strands of your (h/c) hair to and fro, as wisps of the sea trickled onto your skin. You looked over towards the horizon, staring at what used to be the ticket to your freedom. The ship has sailed so far away that it was barely the size of the pebbles that stung your feet. It would be a futile attempt to try and swim towards it.

(Gods, with what offense your father had done to Poseidon, you never even learned how to swim.)

You hope it to be a terrible mistake—perhaps, some sorcery from a witch or the exhaustion from yesterday's voyage making their heads weary. You don’t know how any of those could be, but you would take anything other than the dread looming over you.

“Theseus!!!”

You cry out his name, desperate, your hold on the boulder only tightening, hurting your palms and heels. “Theseus!” you sob, your entire body shaking as your head pounds yet again at the volume and force of your yelling. The backlash of your brain sends you faltering—and, eventually, falling off of the rocks.

A voiceless cry and a hiss forces tears to fall from your eyes as you land harshly on your back. It hurts. Everything hurts.

You could feel the sand flitting onto the gashes that undoubtedly would’ve been all over your skin. The sea—that damned sea—nips at your bottom half where it reached you and makes your damned wounds sting even more.

This is just a dream. It can’t possibly be real, can it?

You rack your brain for memories of the warm light that had come in the form of Theseus—he who had come to you for help and promised help in return.

Yes, of course it isn’t. This is just a dream.

Theseus swore he would bring you to Athens with him, where you would be away from the clutches of your father’s wrath. He swore to protect you. He swore to introduce you to Athens as his accomplice and that you would spend a great life together. Together—that’s what he had promised you.

Forcibly, you fluttered your eyes shut.

This is just a dream—a nightmare.

You’ll soon awake to the real world, awake by Theseus' side. You’ll both go on into the ship and the voyage will continue until Athens comes to the horizon. He’ll protect you. He’ll come back. He'll—

You open your eyes again, ribs hurting as you take a greedy intake of air. You weren’t at all back inside the tent next to your hero. No laughter or chatter to be heard around you.

You were still at the shore, helpless and away from a ship that only navigated further from you.

You were alone on an island with a few supplies at your call, but little to no experience of surviving in such a cruel world.

Theseus was gone. He had deserted you.

Your fists clenched at the blurred image of the ship’s massive white mast engraved in your head. It was taunting you.

Relentless tears streamed down the curves of your cheeks, and you found it hard to get yourself up from the grainy ground beneath you. The very man you decided to trust with your life had now left you for death. Was this what you get for betraying your father? Had you not done the right thing after all?

“THESEUS!!!”

His name rips through your throat raw, as if he could hear you—as if it would've mattered.

"Theseus!" You scream again into the sky, your entire body aching from the fall and the heartache all the same. Your hands bury themselves in the sand underneath you, crushing whatever sand they could hold in order to try and satiate some of your anger. "How could you do this to me?!" you wail, bringing your good arm over your face to shield yourself from the blinding sunlight—from the world in general.

You remember seeing his face as that of a stranger—of how you saw him walk in with the new line of sacrifice, of how he told you of your kingdom’s terrifying reputation, of how he emboldened you to join his cause.

I trusted you.

Your heart aches, remembering his smile, his touch, his words—all of which had deceived you in turn. Theseus was the warm light gracing your life—the one that guided you out of that wretched place.

I loved you.

In the end, he was but a flame that scorched you.

You would rather die than bear a torture like this. At the very least with death, the pain ends. Your soul would reach the other side, crossing over to the Underworld where you could drown yourself in the Lethe River and forget.

Forget the humiliation, the betrayal, and the foolish endeavor your life has become.

Forget the kingdom that made you and the kingdom promised to you.

Forget the man you gave your all to—your honor, your heart, your life.

As it seems to you, the gods plan to do nothing—perhaps, it is a punishment in and of itself to forsake you, to let you rot away. You could hardly lift a finger in your state of mind and body—could barely breathe without a sob slipping past your lips.

Eyes fluttering close, you settle for the next best thing to death—sleep.

Maybe then, you will never awake.

However rare such times would be, he would often go looking for places if he wanted to spend some time alone for himself. Naxos, being a land where he is most welcomed to call his domain, seems to have a lot of such places for him, which is why he wanders off around here as often as he does.

This time, the faint sound of waves began to reach his ears as he treaded the forest. Another beach but he doesn’t at all feel like going for a swim out in the open—not when the sea reminds him of the many times sailors have tried to kidnap him and sell him for a price.

However, Agrios, beside him, seems keen on the idea, halting and staring intently towards the direction of the beach. “Do you want to go on a swim?” he asks, nonetheless following him out of the forest line. “Perhaps I should’ve brought your siblings along…”

The beach was relatively peaceful, beautiful for a little gathering too. It'd do well to tell his people of this, but, as of the moment, it was still too open for his liking. He might be seen by someone he doesn't know or someone he does know and ruin his time alone.

Perhaps, he'll instead go to that little cavern he found a fortnight ago. It should be around here, somewhere…

"Oh?"

Something catches his eyes, stopping him from his thoughts—a lone tent sits amongst the sand with a bonfire long dead and out. A curious case, he thinks. Many travel through Naxos in their journey, but what's a camp like this doing so far away from any of the towns?

Just as he came to snoop inside the tent, something from the corner of his eyes caught his attention as well. In the distance, he sees something by the rocks, Agrios already ahead of him and inspecting whatever it was. He walks closer, curiosity getting the best of him—as it always does.

A woman.

As it had turned out, the very same one he faintly recalls meeting in the forest last night. The sunlight grazing the beach certainly makes her beauty much more apparent than the previous night where he had only spared it a glance beneath the darkness of the eve. "Oh my," he clicks his tongue, as his eyes flit over her sorry state and a frown unconsciously settles on his lips.

He wasn’t one to be too nosy, but he feels immensely compelled to look her over. Carefully leaning his ear against her chest, a faint heartbeat confirms that she was still alive. At a closer glance, he sees the tear stains that mar her cheeks and also takes note of how the pesky sun had left her skin a bit dry and sunburnt. Down the line, inspecting the wounds that ran down her arm, the frown upon his lips running deeper. So much pain, he thinks, shaking his head.

Above all, she shouldn't be left out in the open like this. "This is no place to sleep in," he tuts, looking expectantly at Agrios. “Don’t you think?”

The animal merely blinks back, eventually forcing a sigh from his lips. “Fine,” he grumbles, gathering her in his arms as he lifts and heaves with a grunt. He hasn't been doing much else other than drink, dance, and sleep, so this may indeed be an unfortunate downside of his reckless living. (Still, it somehow feels nice to carry her like this.)

Assuming that the tent nearby was hers for the taking, he carries her towards it, and places her onto the haphazardly assembled sheets and pillows. Her hair splays out and over her face and neck, but he soon makes sure she is in a comfortable position. Sleep, after all, is a great pleasure to have just as any.

As he dries the sea-soaken parts of her, the woman still shows no signs of regaining consciousness, her chest softly heaving in a slow and steady pace, and leaving him in silence. He doesn't worry himself just yet, however—after all, why would he?—knowing well he could call upon a certain someone for a little favor if he really needed to.

And so, he looks around the small tent, taking note of the sparse decor and the mere two piles of crates that Agrios has decided to sniff and inspect. Curious, he gets up and opens the top crate, seeing some clothes, blankets, and other trinkets along with a piece of paper.

Take care of yourself.

Another piece of the puzzle lays itself before him, and he doesn't like it one bit. He places it back in and sets the first crate down to gain access to the second one. Were these all that was left for her?

The next crate, as it turns out, were some rations good enough for a week or so. This makes an idea pop in his head, realizing that the young woman will most likely wake up hungry. He smiles softly at Agrios who has taken place near the makeshift bed. “Come on," he ushers the large cat to leave the unconscious woman alone. "Why don't we play chef, hm?”

The moment you came to, you were made aware of the ache in your head, along with the way your eyes could barely open when you will yourself to. All too suddenly, the lack of warmth by your side gives you flashes of what took place, but, for a moment, you think it to be a dream.

Some sort of commotion reaches you as you gain more hold of your consciousness. Incomprehensible mumbling turned into faint bits of a conversation.

"—ow could you be so cruel to me? I raised you!"

You could see a faint form of two shapes outside your tent, and yet the ruckus only seems to come from one voice.

"Don't you dare use that attitude on me, you little brat."

Getting up was a feat in and of itself, your muscles ached as you put all of your strength into just sitting up alone. Biting back a grunt, you do your best to crawl toward the opening—

"AHHHH!"

The scream that ripples from your mouth hurt your throat, but you could hardly think. In fact, you could hardly move.

A beast peers it's spotted head through the opening of the tent, large golden eyes boring a hole through you in alarm as if you, too, had shocked him. You could only stare back, paralyzed in fear with tears stinging your eyes.

"What happened?!"

All of a sudden, the tent opens further, moved by a man who reveals himself to you, not at all alarmed by the beast, but alarmed by you.

A moment of silence passes and it soon comes to you that this man seems to be the same stranger dangling from the tree last night. You crawl away from the tent opening—away from them. "Who are you?" you sneer, "and what is that?"

The man, himself, seems to snap out of his own stupor at the realization that you were talking to him. He scoots himself inside a little, not too close to you, but within the tent nonetheless. "I'm…" he pauses, "Hoseok, and he is my companion, Agrios."

Companion? That beast is his companion?

Another thing from his response soon also confuses you. Oddly enough, he didn’t answer your question readily—as if he had to think of it. "You don't seem certain of your name, sir," you raised your brow at him, defenses still up against the stranger and his companion.

Not at all bothered by the harsh edge of your words, however, he chuckles at the slip up you had pointed out to him. "I'm Hoseok," he repeats with more conviction, but the seriousness your glare bore didn’t impede his lollygagging. "Now," he instead pipes, turning around for a moment—only to reveal a bowl of fruits. "Are you hungry?"

You may have had no intention answering his invitation, but your stomach answers for you—a shamelessly loud grumble that renders your cheeks ablaze in embarrassment. The stranger laughs, but doesn’t tease further, only taking your hand to place the bowl in its care. “Feel free to nibble,” he urges you, “if you want more, you need only to ask. I caught some fish and roasted them outside.”

His excitement and openness truly takes you aback. Does this Hoseok not have suspicions against a stranger like yourself?

You raise the bowl back to him. “No ne—”

Your words fall short, slain by a gasp at the sight of your hands and arms—clean and free of the gashes you could've sworn marred your skin just hours ago. What’s left of them were faint red lines that tingled if you look or think about them too much. "My wounds…" you stammer, as you gawk at them in disbelief. "H-how?"

Hoseok doesn’t at all bother to take the bowl of fruits from you. "I know of a good healer," he simply tells you, getting up but sweeping the tent entrance open and tying them to the side so that your eyes could catch a glimpse of the little bonfire he had brought back to life from the previous night. Fortunately, his companion also follows him outside.

Though hesitant, you shakily push yourself up, cautiously crawling over to stop by the entrance. "Wounds don't heal in an instant," you call out to him, "for how long have I been unconscious?"

The stranger crouches by the bonfire, eyeing the fishes he had over the fire. "For about an hour or so now, and, as I have said," he turns to flash you a grin and a wink. "I know a really good healer."

In spite of your doubt, something else pulls you away from the situation as your stomach begins to churn at the sight of the fish cooking and make you salivate. Tempted, you were, you relent to a grape from the bowl he had given you. Some juice dribbles down your lips, but it quenches some of your hunger and thirst.

Looking back up, you see him and the spotted beast patiently waiting for you by the fire. Hoseok grabs one of the cooked fish skewered with a stick, offering it to you in case you prefer the distance from them.

Eyes flitting from the smoking fish and him, you hold yourself back for yet another question. "What exactly are your intentions with me?"

“None,” he assures you with a shrug, looking around the beach. “I was simply strolling through and saw you,” he then says, “thought you might need the help.”

I didn't need help. Stubborn, you were, but still, you eye the fish that was roasting over the fire.

The stranger seems to take note of this. “There’s nothing funny with it,” he then assures you, chuckling a little as he nods to his companion, who was now chewing on something. “You can eat over there, if you’d like.”

Finally, you idly take hold of the stick—you swear, your stomach let out a cry of relief. “Thank you,” your manners compel you to timidly tell him this as you take a bite out of the fish’s flesh.

Hoseok smiles warmly, the sight and feeling of it making your heart clench. “You’re welcome.”

For the hour that followed, Hoseok and Agrios stayed with you as they ate, and as some subtle form of gratitude, you let them. You kept your distance, stayed by that little tent of yours as Hoseok tells you of the towns he knew around the island and the general path towards them.

Whether he knew your tragic case of abandonment or not, he makes no mention nor pry of it, and you don't tell him of your wanted status either. It would be best to stay away from strangers.

And so, well into the afternoon, you usher them away after falsely promising to remember his guidance, the man and the beast disappearing into the forest with no more than themselves with them. (The fishes he caught but didn't cook, he gave to you for dinner, and this notion guilts you inside for being so cold to them all along.)

Here you were, once again left alone by the sea.

By this point, you have gained some strength—enough to leave the shell that is your tent to finally gaze at the waves you've been hearing ever since you woke. The golden sun sits amidst a sky of oranges and pinks, its light sending the sea glittering as it's readying to leave its throne for the nightfall.

It was a taunting sight—beautiful, but taunting.

Yet, a voice in your head murmurs a treacherous thought to soil the fragile peace you were in.

Have they reached Athens by now?

Your lip trembles but you trample it beneath your teeth, hoping to kill the incoming tears. It's successful—to some degree. Though the pain in your heart hasn't at all gone away, the streams that ran down your cheeks were not as fierce as before.

In the silence, you were left to wonder what had transpired in the hours you were unconscious. You have reason in you to believe the key that had led Theseus to leave you were his people—they were, after all, the very reason he had snuck into Crete in the first place.

Had they convinced Theseus to leave you?

Had he been tricked by them in some way?

Or, had he no problem agreeing with them at all?

Your heart shatters at the thought of the latter, but your mind soon drifts to what Andreas had said in the woods.

You let us suffer for years…

There’s reason and right in his anger—in their anger—this you knew well. They do not owe you forgiveness nor forgetfulness for the cowardice you’ve done to them in the years before.

If you had been a braver person against your father’s harsh reign, would they have found you befitting to take the place next to their hero?

If you had tried a little harder to be of help during the travel, would they have had a change of heart and taken you with them?

If you had—

Nonsense, there’s nothing you can do about the could-have-beens. You've already betrayed your people. You've already left. You've already messed up.

At the end of the day, the bitter truth now is that you’ve been stranded here—already alone and away from Crete and Athens all the same. Mayhaps, that is why you’ve been left like this—your salvation and your price to pay, your escape from Crete and banishment from Athens altogether.

You will belong nowhere else.

With not much left to do nor care for the view, you crawl your way back into the tent where it's a little more quiet. The immediate thought of sleep comes to you as your eyes land on the makeshift cushions, and the same thought as before crosses your mind.

Sleep. Let’s sleep.

It was then your train of thought stops. An animal pelt cloak—one from a dark grey wolf, you think—had been near the bedding, something you vaguely remember taking off of you when you woke earlier. Theseus doesn't have one—you would know—which can only mean that it was another token left by that stranger earlier.

A part of you is irked to be left with this, as it's a reminder of yet another man who entered your life unannounced. Such things aside, you were reasonably grateful too, as it's something you can make use of.

Enough thinking, another part of you insists, reminding you of what you had thought to do in the first place. Sleep.

A sigh leaves you as you lay yourself down, and with no other warmth to encase you, you relent in reaching for the cloak, curling within its hold and fluttering your eyes closed.

A sense of unease blossoms within you, forcing you away from the realm of Morpheus. It's dark, even after you awoke from the abyss of your slumber. It must be nighttime already then. Have you slept for that long?

Another thing registers in your head as you regain more of your consciousness. You become aware of the damp walls of the tent and bedding, of the chill in the air, of the sound of rain.

What on Earth—

The row rumble from the sky sounds like that of a beast, freezing you in an instant with the wolf pelt tightly clutched in your hold. A bright strike of lightning across the sky faintly illuminates the tent, squeezing a screech from your lips at the deafening thunder that follows it.

You could tell that the rain has no plans of surrendering any time soon. The waves themselves are getting angrier by the minute, crashing against the shore and rocks as if to give them a beating.

Zeus and Poseidon must be furious.

A curse leaves your lips as you see more of the rain soaking the tent, droplets already forming to come down at you. The howling winds aren't showing much kindness either. You don't know for much longer your tent can hold. At this rate, you'll be drenched, too.

Gathering your bearings, you sit up and push aside the discomfort of being in slightly damp clothes, and heave the cloak over your head. You give yourself a moment to think of where to get yourself a better shelter from the storm.

The forest might do well to aid you, but it'll also house other creatures—some of which may have the capabilities to kill someone as defenseless as you. Perhaps, you can find a large, pointed stick to us—

"Hey!"

You jolt as you hear a voice outside. Is that…?

The tent flaps pry open under someone's urgent grip, and you see the person you had suspected it to be. As he tries to catch his breath, Hoseok looks you over with a dismayed shake of his head. "I knew you'd still be here."

You look at him with your mouth agape. “What brings you here?” you question over the downpour, brows furrowing together.

The man adjusts an umbrella over his head, promptly leaving your query unanswered. “Come along,” he instead tuts as he urges you out of the tent. "This is no place to be in the middle of a storm."

The tent shakes as yet another thunder booms across the sky, causing the two of you to flinch. “Now,” he says, “will you be stubborn or will you let me help you?"

The umbrella he's carrying struggles against the wind, what with it being made from only wood and leaves. The gentle curls of his black hair cling onto his forehead, forcing him to swipe them back. "I think it’s a great time to accept, hm?” he says, an uneasy chuckle forced past his lips as he tries to secure a better grip on the umbrella.

With a deep intake of air, you push yourself up and come out of the tent. This brings a smile to his face, one that you choose to ignore. “Fantastic,” he muses, as you duck beneath the struggling shade of his umbrella. "Nothing else?"

"None," you curtly tell him. I have nothing left.

The stranger was caught off guard for a moment, but he soon nods and gestures to the dark forest ahead. "Come," he says, "I know a place."

Although the trees keep most of the howling winds at bay, the mud cakes the ends of the worn dress you were wearing, turning the faint pink an ugly brown. The rough ground makes you walk carefully too, lest you step on anything that can make your bare feet hurt any more than it already is. The darkness of the forest terrifies you, and a part of you urges you to cling onto the stranger lest you get lost in the midst of the storm on your own.

Doubt, however, gnaws away at you at the same time, making you keep a little of your distance. You steal glances in between calculating your steps and following his lead. Can I truly trust this man?

The possibility of his betrayal makes you spiral into multiple other possibilities. If he dares to do anything, then I can shove him or hit him with something, and make a run for it.

As this plan for a what-if forms in your head, Hoseok takes note of your wariness—of how you cocooned yourself within his old wolf cloak, of how you gingerly inched away from him, and of how guarded your face is even as you were occupied with your thoughts. Understandable, he thinks, but it won't do her well to be sick because of the rain.

Leaning the umbrella over to your side, he once again thinks of the quickest path to a shelter he knows of. It’s around here somewhere.

Still, that won't seem to make the journey any less difficult. The rain was stubborn—as stubborn and proud as a man he knows—the thunder bellowing every once in a while to scare the daylights out of you. Though the forest was easier to navigate for the likes of him, it definitely doesn’t make it any less pleasant to tread through. He, himself, feels unpleasant walking through the forest in a state like this.

A surprise, however, soon comes to the young man. It appears that, at some point, you have noticed the position of the umbrella, and your conscience couldn't seem to take the unfairness for his side, because you had let your bodies huddle a little closer. Your hand even lightly holds onto his tunic as you look elsewhere.

Hoseok hides a smile at all of this. How sweet of her to care.

It was fortunate for the both of you that it didn't take too long for you to have reached your destination—just as the umbrella was about to give up, too. He steps under the stone roofing, arm gesturing with a welcome. "Here we are," he sings, tossing the umbrella aside and wringing out the rainwater from his clothes.

You gawk at the structure of the building as you step under its shade, the frown and furrow between your brows deepening. It was dark—especially with much of the moon obscured by heavy rain clouds—but you could make some sense of your surroundings. “This is a shrine,” you tell him, matter-of-factly, staying put where you were.

Hoseok stifles a chuckle. “And?”

A frantic trace of panic besets your face at his lack of concern. “We may offend the deity that reigns over this place,” you scold him, crossing your arms across your chest.

This refusal comes across as puzzling for him. He supposed all mortals are devoted in some sense of respect and fear for the gods, but you were walking too carefully on eggshells—driven mostly in fear. Have you or your family offended a god before?

Hoseok doesn't linger on the thought any longer, giving you an assuring smile instead. “It’ll be alright,” he tells you, “Trust me.”

It’s my shrine after all.

Still, doubt mars your expression, your mind being too stubborn to give in to his assurances. "We mean no disrespect here, after all," he attempts to reason, "just shelter from the storm, yes?"

You give it a few seconds, eventually nodding timidly. "Right," you say, almost as if you were still trying to convince yourself that this won't incur divine wrath. You shed the cloak from your shoulders as you take your first steps to follow him into the shrine.

Inside, a few torches persevered, showing a myriad of offerings laid out on an altar. Something else, however, draws Hoseok's attention elsewhere. Prayers and offerings to gods in a shrine were obvious, of course, but one of those in the altar held a prayer stronger than the others.

The young god turned his focus into hearing whatever words were left by whoever made them. Multiple voices echo through his head…

Lord Dionysus, we thank you and this island for becoming a brief respite for our weary travels. As told, to you, we leave a maiden of fair beauty and heart. May she make wonderful company.

His eyes widened, coming to a stop. A maiden? Who—

“Are you a follower?” you ask him out of the blue, having noted his ease in navigating through the premises. “Whose shrine is this?”

Hoseok, knocked out of his stupor, was startled for a moment, looking back at you as you continued to take in your environment. Nonetheless, once he gets a hold of himself, he doesn't answer the first of your questions, simply the "who" of it. “Dionysus,” he tells you, watching as a hint of recognition sparks in your eyes.

“The wine god?”

Hearing this, something warm flutters within his chest. Recognition feels quite nice, he thinks, as he doesn't hold back the grin that comes to his lips. “You know of him,” he muses, quite pleased. “Not many do.”

Hoseok hasn't been here in a while, as he isn't one to be too zealous in his duties in the first place, but this shrine is one of the first ever built for him by his followers—proof that he's made some sort of path to the pantheon. Even then, he has a long way to go. He's a wandering new god, not at all embraced by many, when they view wine, frenzy, and pleasure as things that get in the way of the philosophy and intellect that many Greeks praised.

As he takes off his own rain-sodden cloak, you tuck the fur cloak onto your arm and idly look around. “I’ve heard tales from my brothers’ teachers in passing,” you tell him, gazing at the art carved into the wall of a merry feast. “He brought wine to the world, yes?”

A part of him is tempted to swipe the wine from the offerings and chug it, but decides against it, lest it sends you in a panic over discourtesy to the gods and whatnot. “Mhm,” he instead happily hums, “a marvellous invention, isn’t it?”

My magnum opus.

Fiddling with the fabric of your dress, you purse your lips together at the thought of the wine this stranger seems to be so proud of. You’re not quite sure of how to respond to him. On one hand, you have lived to understand the perils of losing oneself to wine—how they can turn the angry, angrier and the sensible, nonsensical. On the contraire, the notion of losing yourself to wine and forgetting all else tempts you. “I haven’t tasted much of it,” you simply go on to say, “but I suppose it is.”

At this, Hoseok whips his head towards you. “You suppose?” he repeats, eyes starting to glint at the prospect of challenge. “Please do remind me to bring you all the wine in the world to taste.”

You lightly scoff at his musings. “Well it’s certainly not appropriate to do so now,” you gesture to the rain outside and the state of you both. “We’ll wake up with a fever otherwise.”

Those words take a few seconds to register in the man’s head. “Oh, right,” Hoseok quips, fiddling with his ear as he thinks to himself. I forgot about that. Humans and their fickle bodies.

Looking around his shrine for something that could be a change of clothes for you, he soon returns to you with a colorful fabric. “It's not the most fashionable," he chuckles, "but it’s the best I could find."

The gesture seems to have taken you aback. "Oh—You didn't have t—" the words were a scrambled mess on your lips, but ultimately ended with, "Thank you."

Hoseok gingerly places the fabric into your hands, his own brushing against your skin. Her hands are cold. "Most welcome," he hums thoughtfully, “I will leave you to change then, yes?”

With the chill in the air, Hoseok had deemed it good to light a small fire to bring some warmth inside for you as you change. Though raised by satyrs in the wilderness, foraging, unfortunately, truly wasn't his strongest suit—this he knew well as he had struggled to find some decent kindling for the both of you.

Eventually, he had managed to come back to the shrine with the wood, and some fruits for the two of you to nibble on. The fire was born from one of the torches still lit. It crackles before you both, very much alive since he had imbued it with his power to not perish so easily.

Between the both of you was silence, a little bit more comfortable than before—one you, surprisingly, break.

“Why did you come back for me?”

Hoseok stops chewing on a wild berry midway, brows rising for a moment when the sound of your soft voice takes him aback. “Come again?”

Deep in thought, it takes you a while to turn to him, brows furrowed with genuine confusion. “We’re strangers to one another,” you tell him, “and yet you would come for me in the midst of a storm and help me find shelter…”

You ask him the summary of all the inquiries in your head. “Why help me?”

Truthfully, Hoseok doesn’t have an answer to that himself. It had been a spontaneous feat, taking you back to your tent, but something in him told him to take it a step further—to tuck you in with his fur cloak, to fetch you something to eat, and to call upon his half-brother for a favor to tend to your wounds.

When the rain began, he had pushed back the thought of coming to check on you, telling himself that you could’ve found yourself shelter already—that you’d be fine on your own—and yet, here he was.

A shrug of his shoulders was all he could do. “I suppose…” he murmurs, mulling over his words. “You reminded me of myself, in some way or another…”

When Hoseok was born yet another bastard of Zeus, he lived most of his life in the wilderness, constantly having to flee from the wrath of Hera and other such threats to his life. Even before he had discovered his divine potential, he wasn’t quite welcomed in either Earth nor Olympus.

Lost and helpless—that’s what you two are.

“Why not help?” he simply muses in some sense of kindred.

It felt foreign for him to participate in such soft conversation. He had been so used to nonsensical, slurred discussions that lead to nowhere, or recklessly screaming to song and dance alike.

The silence that follows makes him—a god—squirm as you stare into the fire, lost somewhere in your head. You made no rebuttal against his statement, which only makes him even more antsy.

In spite of his impatience, however, he could tell you were hesitating to speak of something, and so, he lets you simmer in your thoughts just a bit more. It takes another moment of silence before you break it yet again. “I committed treason by helping someone escape with their people. I fled with them,” you confess, voice shaking, “but they all left me while I was sleeping.”

His brows knit together, envisioning the gist of the events that had taken place. Though he had spent most of yesterday in a drunken haze, he had heard the nymphs talk of a group of travellers in passing through the—

Wait a minute.

The prayer earlier rings in his head, and he soon gawks at you, who continues to gaze into the fire in solitude. You can't possibly be the maiden, right?

Well, you are of fair beauty, but no, no, no. If you were, surely you would've been left in better conditions.

Either way, Hoseok thinks betrayal is such an ugly thing that neither god nor mortal likes the notion of. He knows not what led you to commit treason, but to have forsaken your people to join others, only to have them forsake you is a terrible thing. “What a load of bastards,” he abhors, before partly jesting. “Shall we ask the gods that their ship sinks?”

A light scoff leaves your lips as you shake your head at him. Hoseok watches as you say nothing more of the tale, and he knew it well not to pry any longer.

The wine god finds it astonishing how similar yet different the two of you are. Both cast aside in some way or another, and yet the two of you walk different paths. While he ventures recklessly, you tread the same, paved path you’ve ever known, too scared to break away lest you get your heart broken again.

You should learn to let go every once in a while.

“My name is (Y/N)...” you tell him, knocking him out of his little reverie. Your voice was quiet and hesitant, but you still willed yourself to look at him properly, eyes carrying sheepish guilt. “I apologize if I was rude to you.”

Hoseok couldn’t help the smile on his face as he realized that he had earned enough of your trust to know your name. “Glad to finally put a name to a face,” he muses, “and, rest assured, I hadn’t taken any offense, at all.”

A soft, grateful smile blooms on your lips, illuminated beautifully by the golden glow of the fire. This hint of happiness instantly makes Hoseok wonder what pure bliss would look like for you. He hardly holds back his mischief, as he tilts his head with a teasing grin.

“Does this mean to say we’ve become friends?”

At this, you roll your eyes. (But you smile all the same.)

START. | ▷ 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽: @dreamamubarak @unknownwalkingobject @park-jimin-isnt-real

#bts au #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts writings #bts greek myth au #bts greek mythology au #bts gods au #bts imagines #jung hoseok imagines #bts jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #bts jhope x reader #jhope x reader #jhope imagines

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colormepurplex2 · 1 year

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Dream For Us | Plagued By Nightmares

↳ Hyung Line x f.Reader ⤜ Strangers/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 5,981 ⚠️ Sexual banter/talk, alcohol consumption, angst, sleep paralysis, talk of nightmares

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"I need her," Hoseok murmurs to himself, absently dragging a finger through the oculus. The scrying pool ripples around his digit, distorting the scene playing out in it. It's some well-to-do, swanky bar with plush seats and twinkling fairy lights; but the main focus is the three 'friends' having a drink. He hates to think of them as friends, but that's how they've been labeled. He has peered through the pool enough times in the last few weeks to recognize the ebony-skinned fiend and the towering demon parading as a jockey ape that have attached themselves to the figure that holds his attention the most– the one that's utterly captivating to the point it's alarming for Hoseok– you. How and why those two rogue lechs latched themselves to you, he's yet to figure out.

"Ooo, is that the next one?" A bright, titillating voice asks from over his shoulder, ripping him from his thoughtful observations.

Hoseok glances back, eyes flicking over the figure behind him. The last thing he wants to deal with right now is Seokjin's over-eager bullshit. Annoyance pulls at the corners of his eyes but he forces his muscles to not flinch and give away the fact he'd rather bury his fist in Seokjin's perfect face than actually speak to him.

He turns, focusing back on the scene in the oculus. "Yes," he finally answers once he's sure his voice won't betray his inner turmoil. Not only does he wish to hit his own brother, but the fact you're now laughing at something the friend-disguised-fiend said on the oculus, stirs a green-tinged feeling deep in his belly. Jealousy is a bitter flavor on his tongue. It's one he hasn't tasted for a very, very long time. These desires should be beneath a being such as him. That's what The Rite was created for after all; to make the act of acquisition a transactional process and to remove all possible emotional conflicts. There is an order to these kinds of things, one he has no choice but to stick to.

He presses his lips into a thin line, willing the errant thoughts of familial violence and untoward bitterness away. The last thing he needs is one of his brothers picking up on his odd discomfort over the next oblation. It's not like there is anything inherently special about this one. You're merely human, not a speck of luster in your veins; he should just let one of his brothers have you. But, still, something tugs at him and makes him linger over the oculus just a moment longer, taking in the sensuous curve of your throat and the way you place a gentle hand on your demon friend's shoulder before he wills the image to disintegrate. It quickly fades away in a swirl of muddied colors until all that's left is the placid silver surface of the scrying device.

Seokjin steps up to the oculus, frowning down at the large pool. "Why'd you do that? I wanted to see more," he mutters, continuing to be oblivious to the way Hoseok is tensing beside him with barely restrained frustration.

"You'll get to see more soon enough. The Rite begins next week. We have plans to make. Call the others, we'll convene after we speak with Father." Hoseok waves a dismissive hand at Seokjin before turning and striding from the observatory and into the gloomy twilight space beyond. He disappears in a whirl of dust, not even waiting to hear if his brother offers a response.

༻ஓ๑ ✧ ๑ஓ༺

Four shrouded figures gather around the gnarled stump of Ithid, the ancient soul-devouring tree that their father reaped when he formed the Kingdom of Dreams. Now, instead of unlit souls going through Ithid to the afterlife, they become a part of the Dreamscape where the God of Dreams uses them to further his Kingdom and power.

The ash-colored bark hums if anyone draws too close, remnants of the life force still clinging to the roots of the ancient gatekeeper. One false step is all it would take for Ithid to regain power. All it needs is a trickle, just enough essence to begin to thrive again. Which is why there is a permanent repulsion haze clinging to the withered remains of the once Guardian timbre. Anyone who gets closer, drawn in by the hum, succumbs to a crippling snare that will hold them in place until the God of Dreams comes to claim them.

There have only been a few unfortunate beings that have found themselves at the mercy of Morpheus in that way, weeping in the clutches of the spell. He will do anything within his power to keep Ithid from regaining the strength needed to resurrect. The Dreamscape relies on it remaining dormant. The four sons he sired were merely a means to an end, his own guardians created to help ensure that never happens.

"Hypnos sends his regards," the sudden, silken voice of the God of Dreams pierces the silence, drawing the attention of the gathered figures. Morpheus moves with grace, his black cloak floating out behind him like a gauzy shroud. "Finally, the time has come for our Kingdom to begin The Rite. Four of you means four oblations over four years, the first bestowed upon us soon. Have you decided who will receive first?"

Silence answers the God of Dreams. Finally, after a few more moments, one of the figures steps forward. "That has not been decided yet, Father. We were hoping to have more time to come to that conclusion."

Morpheus turns a curious eye on the speaker. "You all have known about this for centuries at this point. Have you not already had plenty of time for that? I expected more effort from my sons. Have I been too lax in my ways, allowing too much freedom in my realm?"

"We do as we're tasked. This is a decision we would rather not make lightly, as it does hold significant changes for the receivers," a second figure steps forward and offers.

Morpheus gives a derisive snort. "You have a week to make that decision, otherwise I'll be making it for you." With that, he coalesces into a swirl of golden sand that floats away with a sudden gust of stale, piny air.

"Well, that went well," another voice snarks.

"Shove it, Yoongi," the first figure, Namjoon, snaps. "Father is right, we should have made this decision long ago. We knew The Rite would be passed to our Kingdom after Hypnos'."

"Who do you propose, then?" Seokjin, the second figure, asks. He steps closer to Namjoon, letting the subtle glow from unseen lights highlight his features in stark relief. "Shall we draw straws?"

"I'll be the first," comes Namjoon's curt reply.

"Abso-fucking-lutely not."

Namjoon turns, taking in the last figure now stepping out of the gloom and into the light. "Hoseok, don't start. Going in order is the only way that truly makes sense and removes all responsibility of choice from our shoulders."

"No," Hoseok replies simply, drawing out the syllable in a monotone.

"Besides," Yoongi chips in, striding up alongside Hoseok, "if we went in order then Seokjin would go first, not you. Or have you been lulled away in the Dreamscape for so long that you've forgotten about our creation?"

Hoseok shakes his head. "Still not happening. I want her. I'm the one that was designated as the oculus sentinel. I'm the one that's been watching her, protecting her mind, so by rights, she should be mine."

"You're only the sentinel because the rest of us were busy actually doing our jobs." Seokjin crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at Hoseok.

The death glare that Hoseok turns on his brother would shrivel any mortal soul. Seokjin just scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You’d rather draw straws?” Hoseok mocks with his own eye roll.

“That was a joke, you jackass. Gods, act like you have some social skills. You’ve been hanging out with the quasi-deities far too much.”

Hoseok bares his teeth in a sneer, his white-blond hair ruffling across his forehead as he jerks his chin up. “Leave them out of this.” Seokjin may be his brother, but Hoseok doesn’t tolerate anyone bad-mouthing his friends like that.

Yoongi throws a hand in the air. “Shut up, the both of you. Father expects us to make this decision and you know if we don’t then he will take matters into his own hands. Now, we don’t want that, do we?”

Seokjin and Hoseok grumble in agreement, shifting their stances away from one another.

“Yoongi is right,” Namjoon says. “Instead of arguing over nonsensical bullshit, we need to come up with a solution to our problem. Preferably before Father steps in on our behalf.”

“What do you propose?” Hoseok asks, directing his question to Yoongi. “You’re the only one that hasn’t offered a suggestion or tried to stake a claim so far.”

Seokjin mutters under his breath about how his suggestion of drawing straws wasn’t truly a suggestion, but his irritated words go ignored. Yoongi glances around, eyes falling on the brittle bark of Ithid for a moment as he thinks.

Finally, he glances up, meeting the eyes of each of his brothers. “We let the oblation decide.”

Namjoon’s brow scrunches. “What? Do we just approach them and say ‘hey, I know this is weird, but you’re scheduled to die next week and one of us needs to claim your divine soul. Care to play eeny-meeny-miney-mo or maybe you can just spin around and blindly point?’ Not exactly a great idea there.”

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “If it were that easy, sure. But, no. I’m talking about taking the next week and we do what we do best. Infiltrate their dreams and give them a good dose of what we have to offer. Once they pass over and come into the Dreamscape, we can have them choose based on their experience. All souls have to go through a transition period before Father accepts them into the Kingdom anyway, that’s the perfect time to let them choose.” He shrugs like it’s a solid, genius plan.

“That’s kind of fucked up.” Hoseok chews his bottom lip. “But, so fucked up that I think I like it.”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon huffs. He shifts his weight, shoving one hand in the front pocket of his black pants and adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose with the other. As a Demi-God, the glasses are completely unnecessary, but Namjoon has picked up a few mortal quirks over the centuries. “Can we consider that truly fair? We need to set some ground rules.”

Yoongi nods but before he can offer anything further, Seokjin speaks up. “No sex. Absolutely no touching of the oblation at all.” He gives a pointed look to Namjoon, who is known to frequent the mortal realm the most; hence the acquired quirks. “We only reach out to them in their dreams.”

“That’s a given,” Yoongi raises an eyebrow and smirks, “knowing what The Rite involves, we should probably bar orgasms as a whole. That includes our own.” There is a collective groan from the others. “A necessary stipulation, but you all know as well as I do that’s the dangerous territory where an oblation is involved. Forming a bond with a mortal before their soul crosses over can be detrimental to our power and even our very existence.”

“Right,” Hoseok agrees. “No sex, no orgasms on either side, we only reach out through dreams. Anything else?”

They’re all quiet for a moment as they mull it over. Seokjin finally breaks the silence, “I’m okay with this if you all are, but who goes first?”

Hoseok slaps his brother on the back, a slow smile curving his lips, letting the gesture finish fizzling the hostility in the air between them. “We draw straws, of course.”

༻ஓ๑ ✧ ๑ஓ༺

The balmy summer nighttime air feels good on your bare shoulders. You trail one of your index fingers through the condensation collecting at the bottom of your glass, the ice nearly melted away. Mel is going on about something, but you’ve long since tuned out the conversation between her and Gavin.

Your friends mean the world to you, even if you’ve only known them for a few years now. Melrose and Gavin are inseparable, they have been since the last foster home they shared together at seventeen. You know their story, all the highs and lows that make them who they are today. Not for the first time do you glance between the pair and think about what it would be like to have a connection like the one they share.

“Earth to Peach, are you listening to me?” Mel snaps her fingers in front of your face. The click of the colorful beads in her long braids adds to the pop from her digits. Dark eyebrows furrow over her chestnut eyes that frame either side of a straight nose with a buttoned tip. Her plump lips are pressed down into a frown, the electric purple lipstick coating them only amplifying the expression as it contrasts against her ebon complexion.

You jerk back in your seat, your eyes locking onto hers. “What? Sorry, I was uh- just thinking about work,” you lie, picking up your drink to cover the guilt you know is plain on your face.

“Peachy, babe, don’t be like that. We’re your friends, you can be honest and tell Melrose to shut the fuck up if you don’t want to hear about Roy-the-roidhead for the hundredth time tonight,” Gavin offers with a knowing smile in your direction. His bright blue eyes catch the glimmering lights overhead, adding even more dazzle to how ridiculously handsome he is. His blond hair is immaculate as always, perfectly styled in a way that accentuates his smooth forehead and slim nose. He’s tall, broad in the shoulder but narrow in the waist; the body of someone who spends most of their free-time striving to be a real-life Adonis. It definitely shows.

You press your lips together before setting your glass down again. The watered-down rum and coke taste too sweet in your mouth. “You know how much I hate that name,” you murmur, ignoring the rest of his statement. They took to calling you Peach about a year ago. It started out innocent enough, the pair dotting over how sweet you are but over time it’s morphed into more salacious claims than anything.

Mel scoots her chair closer to yours and throws an arm over your shoulder. Her skin is warm against yours. “But you’re so sweet, Peach,” she winks and drags her teeth over her bottom lip. The purple lipstick holds true, a testament to the formula. Maybe you should ask her what brand it is, pick some up for yourself. You can’t help but smile, a soft laugh bubbling up your throat even as a blush colors your cheeks at her implication and your silly thoughts. “Now, as I was saying, Roy invited me…”

Just like that, the atmosphere shifts like you hadn’t been called out for ignoring the conversation. Though, you’re not sure if it’s for the better or not. Slowly, the words begin to turn into a buzz instead of the coherent rant from Melrose. You don’t mean to tune her out again, but your attention drifts and you find yourself back in your own thoughts. It’s a nice night to be out, at the beginning of the weekend, and the bar is full of life. The later it gets, the louder it will be in here and the more bodies that will fill the space. One more drink and you’re certain Gavin will ask you to dance. You hope he does, at least, as you could use the distraction from your own troubles.

Ever the reliable one, Gavin downs his next dirty martini and pushes back from the table. The squeak of the wooden chair legs against the linoleum flooring cuts Melrose off from her current tirade about Roy and his latest diet obsession. “Um, excuse you, Gav. Where the fuck do you think you’re going? I’m not finished with my story.”

Gavin gives her a saccharine smile and throws a ring-covered middle finger in her direction. “You’re boring me, Mel. I’m taking our friend here to go dance.” He turns to you, his eyebrows bouncing. “What do you say, Peach, ditch this snore fest and join me on the dance floor?”

You try to suppress the smile that tugs at your lips. “Sorry, Mel,” you offer, casting a quick glance her way. “Roy sounds great, though, I’m really happy for you,” you lie, yet again, considering you’ve no idea what Roy actually sounds like since you haven’t been paying attention to a word she’s said about him.

Before Melrose can respond, Gavin is grabbing you by the hand and tugging you up from your chair. You catch a menacing look ghosting over Melrose’s face before she schools it and rolls her eyes. “Whatever, assholes, Roy wanted to hang out tonight anyway. I’ll catch you both on Monday.”

“Sometimes I’d wish she’d just go hang out with her flavor of the week before spending a few hours with us and doing nothing but yapping about them,” Gavin says, leading you toward the crowded dance floor.

You’re not sure what to say in response to that. It’s not like you can blame Melrose. Guys are…well, guys. She gets bored and likes to keep life interesting. Which is more than you think you can say about your own love life. Your eyes flick over Gavin as he spins around and gives you a sly smile.

He tugs you close, slowly running his hands down your arms and letting them land on your hips. The song playing has a soft beat to it, not quite slow but not a quick thumping rhythm either. It’s perfect for the steady sway of your hips that Gavin sets, his hands helping you move with the music. His eyes slide closed and his chin tilts back, the smile still clinging to his lips. Lips that you’ve thought about kissing more than once. You don’t, though, because you can’t. It would be too awkward.

Gavin is your friend and you’re fairly certain he doesn’t see you in any sort of romantic light. He just really likes to dance and maybe you have a little crush that keeps you from ever saying no to him when he asks you to join him. His hands on your body, innocent as it may be, are an added bonus you file away for secret, personal enjoyment.

The jewel-toned halter top that Melrose talked you into wearing, gives Gavin access to more skin than you’d typically be putting on display. His hands travel from your hips and over your shoulders to play in the hair at the nape of your neck. Goosebumps pop up along your arms and down your spine. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip in an attempt to hide your grin.

You let yourself get lost in the moment, the freedom that dancing with Gavin brings you. The music changes, the next song is an instrumental remix of one of your favorites. “Fuck yeah, I love this song,” you gush, moving your hips at a faster pace.

“Be careful, Peach. You keep moving like that and I might want to take a bite.” The words out of Gavin’s mouth have your hips stuttering to a stop. You stare at him wide-eyed until he realizes you’ve stopped moving. His chin drops and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t stop,” he teases and drops his hands back to your hips, giving them a squeeze. “Unless you want to.”

Your hips automatically start back up, as if they have a mind of their own. “You’re funny,” you mutter with a shake of your head.

Gavin leans in close, his body pressing closer to yours than it’s ever been. He’s so close you can feel the tug and rub of his clothes moving across yours, the rough braid of his jeans against your thinner ones. The close proximity has a surge of heat flaming into your cheeks. “I wasn’t trying to be funny,” his voice is low, a husky whisper that tickles your ear. He chuckles when you let out a small, strangled sound instead of a response. “Oh, Peach, if you only knew,” he continues, pulling back and giving you a meaningful look.

Maybe it’s a testament to how truly desperate you are in the romantic department, but Gavin’s words stick with you. Even after you part ways outside the bar. He heads in one direction and you go in the other. Gavin and Melrose live next to each other, in quaint little townhouses that are on the other side of town.

You inherited your house from your grandparents. It’s cute in its own way, cozy and full of wonderful memories. The drive to your place is nearly double the drive to their places from your job. You all work at the same marketing firm that’s just a few blocks from the bar you’re walking away from.

It’s been hours since your last drink. Your aching feet can attest to at least four of them spent dancing with Gavin. He also practically drowned you with cup after cup of water in between songs. It’s tempting to call for an Uber, simply because exhaustion is starting to set in and the last thing you feel like doing is concentrating on the road for thirty minutes. But, you take a deep breath and slide behind the wheel anyway.

An hour later you’re pulling an oversized t-shirt on and climbing into bed. Despite the fatigue sitting heavy on your chest, you can’t bring yourself to close your eyes. There’s a reason you agreed to go out tonight even when you didn’t really want to. It’s the same reason you’ve been staying up until ridiculous hours in the morning all week while still managing to crawl into work on time. Caffeine has become a constant crutch that you cling to. The headaches and lethargy from lack of sleep can’t compare to what comes when you close your eyes; the nightmares that leave you sweaty and choking on the taste of fear.

Sleep paralysis is what the doctor called it. You prefer to think of it as your own personal demon. It’s been so long since you’ve had a peaceful night of sleep, one not plagued with thrashing and low whimpers that ultimately lead to your eyes staring at the ceiling and your body feeling like it’s at the bottom of the ocean. That’s what scares you the most, the pressure.

You slap a hand on your cheek a few times, willing the exhaustion to recede. It doesn’t. The thought of getting out of bed and fixing a cup of coffee drifts through but it slithers through your grasp as your eyes flutter shut. It’s impossible to resist the pull. A low, pained moan sounds in your throat as sleep washes in on a wave of utter darkness.

༻ஓ๑ ✧ ๑ஓ༺

There aren’t many things that Hoseok enjoys more than entering someone’s dreams. It’s a seamless process, sliding into the gaps of consciousness. His brothers thought he was kidding when he suggested using Seokjin’s joke as a way to choose. They all grumbled a little when he pulled the longest straw, giving him the role of going first. Hoseok loves first impressions, they’re so impactful. Plus, he has a little surprise up his proverbial sleeve that he thinks you’ll never forget.

“Hey, Hoseok!” Speaking of, what’s that phrase, ‘speak of the devil and…’? Hoseok turns slowly from his observation of the oculus to the newcomer.

“Jimin, thanks for coming.” His eyes rove over the other being, taking in the slim cut of his suit. Always dressed to impress, he doesn’t disappoint. Jimin is perfect for what Hoseok has in mind.

Jimin sidles up beside Hoseok to gaze into the scrying pool. “The others won’t be far behind.” He gestures to the oculus, “That the one?”

Hoseok gives an affirming hum. “Like clockwork, the tall one will be asking her to dance soon. Then the fun begins.”

“Oh, good. We didn’t miss the party.” Two figures step out from one of the balconies, arms linked together. Jungkook and Taehyung look just as good as Jimin in their trim pants and button-downs.

“What Taehyung really means to say is it’s good to see you Hoseok and we’re looking forward to whatever it is you have for us to do,” Jungkook uses his elbow wrapped around the other man’s arm to bump him in the ribs.

Hoseok grins, feeling the anxiety quickly draining away just from being in their presence. Seokjin called them quasi-deities, and that may be technically correct, but they’re also his best friends and know him better than any of his brothers ever could even pretend to.

“It’s good to see you guys, too,” Hoseok agrees. “Shall we?” He turns back to the oculus, willing it to focus on you, out yet again with the two creatures he’s come to loathe.

Jungkook and Taehyung crowd in between Jimin and Hoseok. “Who’re the creeps?”

Hoseok’s lip curls in disgust. “Some sort of dream fiends. I haven’t been able to figure out where they came from or what their intentions are. None of my brothers know them and if I ask Father, he’d only give me some backward response that really isn’t a response. So, I can only assume they came from him or maybe remnants from Hypnos’ temper tantrum a few centuries ago.” He shrugs, but the fact he can’t pinpoint your two friends really bothers him. He needs first-hand information.

“Should we take care of them while we’re at it?” Jungkook asks. “Low-tier dreams like that are easy enough to dissolve.”

It’s a good thought, something Hoseok already has considered. “Get a feel for them, if you think they pose a potential threat then take them out. Otherwise, let’s just stick to the plan.” He continues, explaining in detail exactly what he wants from his three friends.

The three quasi-deities laugh. A sound that Hoseok plans to use to his advantage. You have no idea what he has in mind for you tonight. After he watched you toss and turn every night this week and crawl out of bed with tears in your eyes this morning, you deserve a little fun- and he’s the one that intends to deliver it.

༻ஓ๑ ✧ ๑ஓ༺

Like a rinse and repeat cycle, you’re back at The Well House with Melrose and Gavin. It’s a Saturday night and you’re certain you’d rather be at home in bed right now. But, last night was an especially brutal one. All week has been one tortuous night after another. The nightmarish episodes seem to only be getting worse. You almost didn’t bother with functioning today because it physically hurt to drag yourself out of bed. The nightmares felt so real, the darkness that caressed your mind like a tangible thing.

“You look tired, Peach,” Melrose frowns, tilting her head to the side as she scans your face.

You grimace. “Uh, yeah, I didn't sleep great last night.”

“Maybe what you need is to wear yourself out, that always helps me sleep like a baby,” Gavin offers. You know exactly the kind of wearing out he’s thinking about. He’s almost finished with his third drink of the night meaning it’s nearly time to hit the dance floor.

As tempting as it is to lose yourself in dancing with Gavin tonight, you’re simply not sure if you can physically do that. The weight of your eyelids alone could keep you rooted to this chair for the next week if you’d let it.

“Not sure I can even stand at this point,” you mumble, knocking back a large gulp of your drink. “I probably should just call an Uber and head home, honestly.”

Melrose throws herself back in her chair, an arm dramatically draped over her eyes. “No! You can’t leave. The night is still young, come on, promise you won’t leave me with this asshole.” The arm over her eyes flings out toward Gavin who just barks a laugh, shaking his head.

“How about this, you give me one dance and if you’re still feeling like this then I’ll order you an Uber myself?” Gavin steeples his hands together in front of his chest, lips turned down in an exaggerated frown. “Please, Peach.”

You glance at Melrose who now has her arms crossed over her chest and is glaring at Gavin. She catches your eyes, her demeanor instantly changing and she gives you a smile and nods that it’s okay. “One dance,” you say, looking toward Gavin, “then you call me an Uber.”

“If that’s what you still want, then, yes.”

Melrose doesn’t usually dance. But, tonight she follows you and Gavin to the crowded expanse of polished wood that serves as a dance floor. It’s not too late into the night, so the crowd isn’t nearly as pressing as it normally is when you’re dancing with Gavin. Even so, he pulls you in close, as close as he was the other night. The music is slow, grinding with a thumping bass beat. Melrose melts into the crowd until you lose sight of her completely.

Dancing becomes mindless, just a blur of movement and the increasing beat of your heart. The song ends but you don’t stop dancing as it bleeds into the next one. Gavin’s hands migrate along your body. They trail over your arms, hips, and shoulders, offering touches that do nothing to quell the sizzle of attraction you have for him. Your exhaustion wanes with every passing beat and sway of your hips.

A throaty laugh breaks through your mental fog and draws your attention. Three men dance together to your left, their bodies meshed together so thoroughly you can’t tell where one ends and the others begin. They’re all devilishly handsome, maybe even more than Gavin which you would have once thought was impossible.

Gavin is pressed against your back, hands gripping your hips. You can feel his warm breath gusting over your ear and down your neck as he crowds in closer. The air feels thicker, charged with static energy. The dancing trio is suddenly right in front of you. You tell yourself they’re just moving with the crowd, that their shift couldn’t possibly have been deliberate; until one of them looks you in the eye and winks.

“Hi, pretty lady,” his charming voice carries to you over the thrumming bass beat. The gorgeous man might as well have spoken a spell because you’re suddenly enchanted. The two men moving along with him to the music give you heated smiles, the ones you only read about in romance novels.

Gavin’s hands on your hips tighten a fraction, bringing your attention back to your friend still dancing at your back. “Eyes on me, Peach,” Gavin sing-songs as his strong hands guide you around until you’re facing him. He pulls you close, fitting your smaller frame against his towering one. Warmth bleeds through the silk of your blouse where his large palms now rest on your lower back. You barely register the occasional flick of Gavin’s icy eyes over your shoulder until you feel a larger warmth against your back.

“Easy, friend, we just want to dance,” the same charming voice from before is so close you jerk in Gavin’s arms. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Gavin’s jaw ticks, his lips pressing into a harsh line that mirrors the one now creased between his blond brows. “Of course not,” he grinds out between clenched teeth. His eyes peer down into yours, the icy chips now full of storm clouds. “I’m going to go grab a drink, Peach, I’ll be right back.”

Before you’re able to formulate a response, Gavin is peeling himself away and disappearing through the throng of dancers. “There, that’s much better,” one of the other men chuckles. He sidesteps until he’s taking up the vacant spot Gavin just left. “Hi,” he waggles an eyebrow at you, “you’re an excellent dancer.”

The self-deprecating snort that works its way out of your throat has heat flaring through your cheeks. “Uh, thanks, I guess.”

“How adorable, she lights up like a Christmas tree when she’s embarrassed,” the third man sniggers, mischief twinkling in his dark eyes when he moves in closer to your side. All three of them press in closer, their bodies moving in time with yours.

This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve gained new dance partners while out with Melrose and Gavin, but it is the first time Gavin has left you on the dance floor like this. Maybe it should be alarming, being alone with three complete strangers, but there is something about them that feels comforting.

Gavin and Melrose both appear out of nowhere, Gavin’s large hands gripping your arms and trying to tug you from the middle of the three men. “Let’s go, Peach.”

The man at your back snags Gavin’s hands and tosses them away. “Don’t put your hands on her like that. You may be her friend,” he snarls, twisting the word with disgust like it will hurt more that way, “but right now you’re being more of a nightmare than anything else.”

Gavin bares his own teeth but his eyes narrow the slightest bit and Melrose scowls. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” she offers in a tone that’s alarmingly caustic.

The man pressed to your front slowly steps away and moves into Gavin’s personal space. He leans in and whispers directly into Gavin’s ear. Your friend blanches, jerking back away from the man. Melrose steps up like she’s about to confront the man but Gavin shakes his head and pushes her behind him and out of sight. The hostility slowly dissipates from the air, draining away until you feel like you can breathe again, not realizing you had been holding your breath. Gavin turns his eyes on you. “Have a good night, Peach, we’ll see you…um, when we see you.”

His odd farewell has a weird feeling settling in your belly. Suddenly, you’re not so sure you should be dancing with these guys, considering they just ran your friends off somehow. Sure, you don’t like the way Gavin grabbed your arm, but he’s still your friend and you don’t even know these guys.

“Er, I should probably go,” you begin to try and untangle yourself from the other two men.

The man that got in Gavin’s face turns and shakes his head at you, a slow smile pulling at his plump lips. “Nonsense, we’re just getting started. I’m Jimin, and this is Jungkook,” he gestures to the man at your back, “and this is Taehyung.” Jimin places a hand on the man at your side’s shoulder.

They’re so close you can really see their features. Strong jaws, masculine builds, and perfectly styled hair above dark chocolate eyes that seem to peer right into your soul– these men are what dreams are made of.

“Let’s keep dancing,” Jungkook nudges your ass with his hips. “You look like you could use the stress reliever.”

He’s not wrong. You laugh ruefully as you let them guide you back into a sensual rhythm. Slowly, the tension from the confrontation with your friends begins to bleed away, replaced with a calming sort of lull that’s filled with music and the weighty press of their bodies against yours.

You lose track of hands, feeling strong fingers grip or caress over various parts of your form. You think it’s Jimin maybe, or could be Taehyung, who first presses lips to your neck. The sensation sends tingles down your spine and has your eyes fluttering shut. “You’re beautiful when you let go. I’m so jealous,” Jungkook murmurs in your ear. He presses in close to your front, hands secured to your waist.

“Hmm?” you try to open your eyes but your lids are so heavy. You want to ask Jungkook what he means about being jealous. The words won’t form. All you can do is lick your lips and rub them together. Your mouth feels sticky, sweet in a way, like you just ate a bit of honey.

“Just keep dancing, pretty lady, we got you.” The words barely register before numbing darkness sweeps in and you’re floating in the one place you’ve been trying to avoid– your dreams.

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to chapter list

◅ Master List ©️ 2022-11-24 ColorMePurplex2

#bts #bts fanfic #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts yoongi #bts hoseok #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #bts dreams #bts demi-god au #bts gods au #bts strangers to lovers #bts hyung line #bangtanwritershq #eventual smut

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cinnaminsvga · 3 months

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🥀 | yoongi

the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired

→ vampire!yoongi ft. lots of miscommunication (all because newly-turned yoongi doesn't know how to talk to women lol) | 2.6K words → a/n: SURPRISE i am miraculously alive and well (?) back at it again with some weird monsterfucker propaganda... it's been months since i've written a fic so pardon the lacking quality but i Am Trying... also i added ghost!maknaeline bc i think they'd be cute... umm this might become a series if anyone is interested but i think it works as a standalone... enjoy!!!

When Yoongi first agreed to being turned, he never imagined being so tired all the time. Even as a mortal, Yoongi had never been the most energetic soul. He preferred loafing around at home or reading a nice book by the fire. He rarely left his drafty villa, always isolated despite the nearby town. The most cardio he would ever do was when he’d take the few steps needed to get to his piano and play a few soft songs for the ghosts wandering down his halls.

He knew the neighbors liked to whisper about him, liked to refer to him as a local boogeyman to scare naughty children. “Beware the man who sold his soul to the devil,” they warned, though Yoongi supposes their silly rumors weren’t so far from the truth. Although, it was only a month ago that he did “sell his soul,” just not for the reasons that people might have expected.

Still, being a vampire was still very strange and new to Yoongi. He’d known about spirits and ghosts for as long as he can remember, but even he thought that creatures of the night were nothing more than an urban legend. All it took was one high-stakes game of cards and an empty promise to pay back a debt for Yoongi to realize that it probably isn’t smart to make deals with ghoulish-looking men in strange clothing in the first place.

It wasn’t all bad, save for the never-ending fatigue and deathly pallor to his skin. He was still Yoongi, just… worse, if you will.

For safety’s sake, he hadn’t told anyone about it. He was a bit embarrassed, to be honest. If his brother found out, he’d surely get an earful (or a stake through his heart, though Yoongi hopes his Seokjin hyung would remember all the good times they had together). Most importantly, he could absolutely NEVER tell you about his turning. That would be absolutely humiliating.

You were a witch doctor he had met just a few weeks prior to his turning. You had just moved into his sleepy town as a “pharmacist” who could “magically” make any ailment disappear. You had decided to move there on a whim after being exhausted from the high-paced nature of the big city.

You had spotted a small line of ghosts trailing after him on the night you had moved in. He had been on the way to the convenience store for a caffeine fix, and you had been on the way there to grab a couple of toiletries you had forgotten to pack.

You were so sweet, shyly approaching him under the guise of asking him if he could reach for a snack on a high shelf. But he could see your worried gaze fixed on the three spectral children climbing on his back, though he did nothing to shoo them away. After all, they had no mass, so as long as they didn’t lick his neck or something weird, he was fine with letting them be menaces.

When he had his back turned away from you to grab your snack, he could hear you quietly telling the ghosts to get off of him. They only laughed in response, their giggles always sounding a little muffled and distorted.

Yoongi plucked the bag of chips from the shelf and turned back to you, catching a glimpse of your annoyed expression before you could school it back into something more neutral.

“Is something the matter?” Yoongi asked smoothly, handing you the bag. He amusedly watched as your brows furrowed, not even hiding that you were glaring pointedly at the little gremlins making faces at you from his shoulder.

Jungkook, the youngest of the three ghosts, climbed on Yoongi’s head before proceeding to pull down his pants, mooning you with his spectral ass.

“Uh, nothing,” you eventually said, huffing indignantly as you stomped away. Yoongi caught you discreetly poking your tongue out in annoyance before you turned to another aisle.

Thus began your cautious attempts at exorcising him without trying to “alert” him to it. It was amusing to watch you try to “save” him from the three little ghosts that decided to cling onto him, and it was even more amusing to watch you fail repeatedly every time.

Yoongi made no comment when you were suddenly bumping into him everywhere he went. There was always a terse grin on your face as you performed as many anti-ghost spells as you could, but none of them ever seemed to work. The truth was, ghosts could only be exorcised if the haunted person in question wanted them to leave, but Yoongi had found himself a little fond of these stupid little kids. They might be slowly sucking the life force out of him, but Yoongi didn’t really care. They were just kids, and he’s always been too soft for his own good.

Your many encounters with him created a subtle friendship of sorts, one that Yoongi found himself enjoying. He was never been one to foster friendships with living beings, but perhaps your sweet attempts to save his soul might have defrosted his little grinch heart. But he wouldn’t ever tell you that, of course.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that you were very pretty, for that matter. He certainly would NEVER tell you that as well.

Was he feeling guilty for not telling you about his ability to see ghosts? Slightly. But was it cute watching you trying to outsmart three little ghost babies to no avail? Very much so.

So, Yoongi stayed quiet and enjoyed your company, even if you had no idea who he was or what type of things he was capable of.

That was until he got into that damn bet with the stupid bloodsucker.

Probably shouldn’t call him that, given that I’ve become one myself, Yoongi groaned internally. He’d been hiding in his house for a month now, and your “random” visits were surely on the horizon. He wasn’t sure if you’d immediately clock that he’d turned into a vampire, but he wasn’t going to risk it. If you found out, then you’d find out about everything, and that wouldn’t be a good impression.

Yoongi knew he wasn’t great at interacting with people, let alone people he had a crush on. But at least he knew that lying to someone for extended periods of time was probably not in his favor.

Little Jungkook fluttered close to him, his smoky form twinkling from the moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “When is the pretty witch coming to visit?” he asked, a little forlorn. Among the three ghosts, Jungkook was the one who’d grown attached to you the most. “I miss playing with her…”

Yoongi sighed, rubbing his face. “Hopefully never,” he responded, voice muffled by his hands. He peered through his fingers and saw the two other kids floating by his doorway.

Jimin, the older twin, nudged Taehyung forward to speak. “Y-Yoongi… I think she’s coming soon,” Taehyung whispered, a tinge of excitement evident in his tone.

“You can’t keep hiding from her forever… She's sure to find out anyway,” Jimin warned, uncharacteristically stern.

Yoongi stretched his tired limbs, his aching back cracking as he pushed himself off his sofa. Time moved weirdly ever since he turned into a vampire. This month had felt like a day, so it was hard to tell how long he'd been sitting so still. His creaking bones gave him an idea though, that's for sure. “I know… how much do I have to bribe you three to scare her away?”

Jungkook giggled, floating over to sit on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Nothing. We do that all the time for free,” he snickered.

Taehyung nodded in agreement. “It’s true… but she never seems to go away even when we do.”

“In fact, I know she thinks we’re cute,” Jimin said, and Yoongi couldn’t help but agree. Your cat and mouse game with the three idiots was probably past the point of annoyance and more towards the territory of playfulness. You likely noticed how they weren’t exactly the malicious ghosts that people feared, so you humored their antics.

(Yoongi hoped that you stuck around for him, too.)

“How much longer ’til she gets here?” Yoongi asked, walking to his bedroom. The air was stale inside the room, not having to use the bed as much as he once did. He opened his closet, trying to find some better-looking clothes than the threadbare robe he had decided to live in. He plucked a nice button-up shirt, before thinking better of it.

Am I really going to look like a stereotypical vampire when I meet her? What’s next, a cape?

“She’s a few blocks away,” Taehyung responded. The ghost paused, looking at the shirt Yoongi had put back. “No, wear that. She likes it when you wear that shirt.”

“She thinks you look regal in it,” Jimin agreed, grabbing his only pair of slacks. “These, too. She likes your butt in them.”

If Yoongi were still human, he’d probably blush. “I told you boys it’s rude to eavesdrop on her thoughts,” he scolded.

“You like the reassurance, though…” Jungkook muttered, but Yoongi ignored him.

“Two minutes away…!” Taehyung reminded him before disappearing. The two others followed suit, likely going to meet you before you arrived. Yoongi sighed, a headache slowly forming by his temple.

As promised, after two minutes, there was a knock from his front door. As Yoongi reluctantly approached and reached for the doorknob, he could hear you arguing playfully with his little friends.

“Taehyung, no pulling! I just got my hair fixed,” you whined. Despite your words, Yoongi could hear the affection in your voice, plain as day.

“You look really pretty today, noona…” Jungkook giggled, and Yoongi could imagine Jungkook placing a chaste kiss on your cheek in greeting. “Are you finally gonna tell hyung about your crush on him?”

“What are you talking about?!” you yelped. Yoongi heard something fall, then a string of curses from you. “Oh gosh, the food! I hope nothing spilled…”

“Don’t worry, noona. I doubt Yoongi hyung is hungry,” Jimin giggled slyly. “Unless you count how he’s hungry for you…”

Before you could reply to Jimin’s out-of-pocket comment, Yoongi swung open the door, an alarmed expression on his face. “H-hey, Y/N,” he began, a little awkwardly. He cleared his throat, trying to appear as if he hadn’t heard anything at all. “What do I owe this pleasure?”

You froze when Yoongi suddenly appeared. You were in the midst of rearranging the plastic bags of take-out food with your jaw agape, likely about to chastise Jimin for his rudeness. You floundered for a second before straightening up quickly. Your cheeks were a cute shade of red.

(Yeah, maybe he was a little hungry…)

“Yoongi! Oh god, sorry, I was just…” you stumbled for a moment, trying to figure out a way to explain yourself. Behind you, the three stooges grinned evilly, full of satisfaction.

“Do you need help?” Yoongi asked instead, bending down to gather your bags. The smell of take-out Chinese wafted into his nose, and he had to hide his growing smile. His favorite food, you had remembered. If he could eat, he’d be salivating.

“Yoongi hyung is salivating for a different reason…” Taehyung muttered, reading his thoughts. Yoongi and your eyes widened in alarm, causing the three kids to guffaw in response.

“Sorry, I was on the phone with somebody and the bags slipped,” you coughed, quickly grabbing the rest of the bags. In your haste, your hands accidentally touched, making you gasp in surprise.

“Gosh, Yoongi! Your hands are terribly cold! Are you alright…?” you asked, trailing off. When you tore your gaze away from his pale hand, you slowly turned to face him fully. Due to the uproar caused by the kids earlier, you hadn't been able to look at Yoongi properly since you arrived.

Yoongi braced himself, a terse smile on his lips.

You observed him silently, a mysterious emotion flitting through your face. Yoongi saw the way your gaze shifted to the injury on his neck, which he had recklessly forgotten to at least try to cover up. The dots were connecting, and Yoongi waited for you to make the first move.

To his surprise, you started by staring inquisitively at the kids. “Did you guys…?” you asked, suspicious. This was the first time you had openly addressed them in front of him, and Yoongi was shocked. Not only for that, but for also potentially thinking that they were to blame, somehow. Didn’t you trust them by now?

Jimin looked affronted, scoffing at your train of thought. “Us? Of course not! Why on earth would we do that to hyung?”

Jungkook huffed, wrapping an arm around your waist with a sad pout. “Yeah! Why would we hurt hyung on purpose? You don’t think we’d do that, right?” he asked, eyes watering with hurt tears.

Immediately, your expression softened. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…” you trailed off, sighing. As if remembering where you were, you snapped back to reality, staring incredulously at Yoongi as if he’d grown three heads. Well, or turned into a vampire, he supposed.

“Yoongi! What on earth happened?” you asked, terrified for him. Or perhaps, terrified of him? Yoongi knew he should be feeling guilty, or embarrassed, or maybe a little ashamed, but all he could see was your worry for him, and his dead little heart would have skipped a beat if it still could. God, he was pathetic.

Instead of answering you truthfully, Yoongi chose to run away from his problems, like he always did. “It’s just a mosquito bite,” he explained lamely. He rubbed the very conspicuous marks in question, wincing slightly. It might have been a month since he turned, but it still felt as tender as it did the day it happened.

You stared at him, unimpressed. “In the middle of winter? When you rarely step out of your house?” you asked sarcastically. You gave him a steely glare. “Be serious with me for a second, Yoongi.”

But Yoongi couldn’t. He couldn’t tell you, or else he’d literally die a second death, from embarrassment or heartbreak, he couldn’t tell.

“I… I don’t actually know,” Yoongi lied. It was sort of true. He didn’t know that the stupid bet would actually mean he’d give up his soul to pay for an impossible debt. He had been swindled, that was it. He still didn’t understand how he could’ve been so stupid.

“He didn’t know he was stupid… what a joke,” Jimin murmured, causing the others to giggle in turn. You and Yoongi ignored them.

When he didn’t explain further, your shoulders slumped, defeated. You likely didn’t believe him one bit, but you were never the type to push. You were probably as shy as he was, which had caused its fair share of misunderstandings in the past. Most of the time, those misunderstandings helped Yoongi, though he often wished that he didn’t need them. One day, he’d be honest with you, but for now…

“May I come in, Yoongi? There’s something I have to tell you…” you started, eyes shifting behind you. The kids hovered closer, watching you with curiosity.

Yoongi felt the air turn colder, though he wasn’t sure if it was just him, the wind, or the ghosts doing it. Or maybe it was you.

Yoongi opened the door wider, gesturing for you to come in. “Please, make yourself at home…” he whispered before closing the door gently.

Outside, the three boys didn’t make a move to come in.

“Now… we wait,” Jimin whispered. The other two nodded, faces determined. They floated to the second floor of Yoongi’s villa, still keeping their ears to the floor. As much as they wanted to interrupt, they knew this was an important development for the two of you. They wanted to give you a false sense of privacy, but they could never stop themselves from hearing the gossip. God knows that these rascals would be bored without their daily dose of real telenovela romance.

In the living room, Yoongi took a seat as far away from you on the couch as possible. He laced his hands with an iron grip, forcing himself to stop any fidgeting.

Breaking the silence, you sighed tiredly. “So… where do I begin?”

#yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagines #yoongi x reader #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #min yoongi #the sleep deprived series #this has been IN MY DRAFTS for months now....#god i am so stuck in my monster phase #i want to write more... MORE...#is this what it feels like to be inspired #idk who i think i am but man... love this guy #kinda obsessed with this au tee bee aych

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roadratkid · 4 months

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Hohoho

Merry holidays your gift from me is a WIP

#digital art #fanart #adventure time #fiona and cake #work in progress #art wip #current wip #prohibitedwish #prismo the wishmaster #prismo #scarab the god auditor #life is strange #before the storm #lis bts #chloe price #rachel amber #prohibitedwish au #sketch

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venusjeon · 1 year

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golden arrows

the god Apollo is dared to seduce the first mortal his eyes set upon without revealing his identity, so changing his appearance slightly and taking the name of Hoseok, he crosses paths with you. but as it happens, the only man you say you'd ever lie with is Apollo... also, you're on a quest to steal his golden arrows.

♔ PAIRING: apollo!hoseok x mortal!reader

♔ GENRE: greek mythology, historical & bet au, adventure, fluff, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 9.6k

♔ WARNINGS: religion themes, drinking, swearing, period-typical sexism, animal hunting&sacrifice, nudity, kissing, mentions of non-consensual sex, sex happens but no smut soz, murder

♔ BETA: @yoonoclock <3 thank you so much again !!

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: nvm the fic can we appreciate the banner bc i kinda served with it. no but this has been in my wips for almost as long as i've had this blog so i'm v excited for you guys to read it :D

Heroic Age

Sing to me, ‘o muse, the song of a priestess who was loved by a god willing to forgive her wicked crime.

It was a peaceful night on OLYMPUS, the home of the gods, where everyone had gone to sleep hours ago under a black sky dusted with stars.

Everyone save Apollo, Hermes, and Dionysus, who refused to be parted with their jug of wine that refilled on its own so the party should never end. So much of it had they consumed, though, that even the god of the drink had come to neglect his cup, slumping over the table while his half-brothers slouched on their chairs.

But what they were yet to lose was their sense of humour, as they teased each other about their tragic love lives. Now, it was Apollo’s turn to be taken the piss out of.

“At least the objects of my desire run towards me, not away,” laughed Hermes. “What was that nymph’s name, Daphne?”

Apollo gestured his discrepancy by waving his index finger side to side. “That was the doing of that winged fuck, Eros.” Famously, he had struck Apollo’s heart with an arrow that kindled love and Daphne’s with one that banished it. Pursuing her through the forest until she begged to be turned into a laurel tree to escape his advances, Apollo learned never to get on the wrong side of the god of desire again. “He’s always had it in for me, I tell you.”

“Sure, yes, blame him,” twice-born Dionysus said, cheek still glued to the table. “We can all play that game.”

Hermes nodded. “Admit it, brother, only the thrill of consorting with an immortal draws them to you. And it fades quickly once they realise you can’t pleasure them in bed.”

“Oh, you tell yourself that’s it.”

“I bet you my herald’s staff.”

“Bet what, exactly?” Apollo scoffed. “It’s not like I can stop being a god. Your joke of a point cannot be proved, you fool.”

“Except, it can,” Dionysus said as he sat upright, but Apollo didn’t understand, so he sighed, “Isn’t intelligence supposed to be one of your domains? We’re no strangers to changing our appearance so that mortals can’t recognise us, so seduce the first one you see without revealing your true identity. It will confirm they’re not pretending to love you just because you’re a god.”

“Another of my domains is prophecy, you seem to forget. I can’t lie. Otherwise, who would believe my oracles?” Apollo pointed out, then smirked. “It’s also why I can be trusted when I say you two are my least favourite Olympians.”

He was allowed to joke, right?

“More merit if you succeed. Which you won’t, of course,” Hermes said with a smile shared by Dionysus.

Apollo pursed his lips. He was aware the wine was to blame for his taking offence at the mocking tone of his brothers, but he couldn’t help his own pride.

“Very well. Kiss your staff goodbye.”

He would show them.

Past noon the next day, shining Apollo descended from the summits of Olympus having taken the likeness of a youth whose good looks equalled his—physical attraction was after all a part of love, as was Aphrodite’s other realm, beauty, a part of Apollo’s identity.

He would take the name of Hoseok. It meant ‘a name known throughout the entire country’, so it could perfectly be a new epithet of his, like Phoebus or Delius were. Yes, not a lie. All good. So, Hoseok chose a forest near the city of TEGEA to wander through, hoping to come across someone. That someone was you.

Bowstring drawn and arrow aimed at three sword-wielding men.

Without a second’s delay, Hoseok made appear his golden bow and arrows, known to never miss their archer’s target. Surely coming to your rescue would be a good start? Except... you might need none.

The men were close enough to trust their own weapon outdid yours, failed to consider you’d move fast enough to dodge the sharp edge of their bronze swords and that by grabbing your arrow by its shaft, you’d manage to graze their skin with its tip, forcing them to step back with a grunt.

Unwilling to wait and find out how they’d counterattack, Hoseok nocked and then released his own arrow, which as intended, landed right before their feet in the form of a normal wooden one.

You turned around with a frown. Who–?

“That can’t be fair, three against one?”

The sound of the men fleeing behind you at the sight of this stranger halted your thoughts. His face certainly did too, as well as his bright hair that shone under the sunlight like spun gold. With a satisfied smile, he stored his weapons in the quiver he carried on his back and approached you, chest slightly out as if he owned the forest. From each step he gave seemed to spring a harmony that filled the air, but you still gripped your bow, wary. He noticed. “I mean you no harm.”

Once he was in front of you, Hoseok was able to take a better look at your face, one he instantly liked. What a relief that bet or not, he’d pursue you. However, he also noticed your smile was forced, as though being saved was an inconvenience.

“Good to know. Thank you for the help. I’ve no time to lose but if our paths ever cross again, I promise to repay your favour.”

And just like that, you walked past him.

“Wait!” He turned around to catch up with you once he got over the unforeseeable blow. “Allow me to escort you out of the forest. There may be more bandits lurking about.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

Clearly... He chuckled, “But I might need yours.” Just not for the reason being discussed.

Now that he thought about it, was this the work of Hermes? After all, he was the one in charge of keeping roads and travellers safe, as well as thieves.

You looked him up and down while walking. A man with such a build, he certainly would not need help, and if he wanted something of yours, he could just take it—or try. So he really was just a kind stranger, huh. “As you wish.”

Hoseok smiled, held hands behind his back. “Tell me, what is your name and where do you come from?”

“I am Y/N, and I’m a priestess of Apollo in PYLOS.” Hoseok almost gasped in delight. Well, this was fate!

Although based on the fact you dressed a man’s knee-length chiton and wore your hair tight up in a subtle bun, he’d sooner have guessed you were a follower of his twin sister, the huntress Artemis. The reason for it was probably that it was safer to travel as a man, but either way Hoseok was fucked. His priestesses were sworn to chastity.

“We are a long way from Pylos.”

“And going further away north-east, I know. I’m… on a quest.” The stranger’s visible intrigue pressured you into providing some context, “My younger brother Jungkook is a servant at the royal palace, and two days ago he was charged with treason for trying to murder the prince, of which I believe he is innocent. We weren’t allowed to speak but he’s a sweet boy, such evil would never cross his mind. He’s being kept in a cell now, awaiting an execution only I can prevent, for the king said he’d be pardoned if in seven days I brought him Apollo’s golden arrows...”

Hoseok had to stop himself from making a dramatic halt. If Jungkook was indeed as innocent as you claimed, you could pray for him to aid your brother either by lending you the arrows or making the king see reason. You needn’t be on a quest. Unless, “You mean to steal them.”

“I’ve no choice,” you said bitterly with your eyes cast down, ashamed all the same. Priestesses were supposed to honour the gods, yet you were about to rob one of them, yours. It was a blasphemous defiance, hubris, but also the only way to save Jungkook. You glanced at the stranger, wondered whether he was contemplating stopping you. “I bet you regret scaring those three robbers away earlier. It is odd that I haven’t rightfully been struck down already with a golden arrow shot from the Heavens for what I’m about to do. I know I’d deserve it.”

Hoseok understood your hands were tied. It was not you whom his anger was directed at, but the king, for sending you off on such a mission. He’d deal with him.

First, though, came you. No matter your circumstances, you were the first mortal he’d seen, and he’d already decided where to display Hermes’ staff in his palace in Olympus.

“Maybe Apollo has looked into your heart and seen it is pure, and will punish that who is making you do this instead. If only you pray so to him.”

You scoffed. “I think he has more important things to do than listen to the prayers of a nobody.”

A nobody? But you were one of his priestesses! There were few mortals dearer to him.

“I assume, then, that you’re headed to CORINTH.”

“Correct. I’m to catch a ship there to cross the gulf. But enough about me. What do they call you, and why do you find yourself in this forest?”

A forest that, you’d failed to notice, was crowded. Nymphs of nearby trees, flowers, lakes, and springs, all gathered to stare at Hoseok in awe as he walked. Animals too. They could see his ethereal self under his disguise, yet dared not approach him, hiding instead from your sight. Were he not busy, he wouldn’t mind lying there to sing and play the lyre for them.

“I am Hoseok, and my brothers… want me to meet a girl. I was on my way to her.”

“A girl? Do you mean, to take as wife?”

Hoseok astutely answered the first question only, “Yes. I’m told she will likewise be in Corinth.”

“If you can keep up, I’d not mind a travel companion.” Hoseok was about to say keeping up was not a problem with him when he realised the animals were dispersing and the nymphs forming a crowd ahead. You followed his gaze and groaned. “Another obstacle? Who am I, Theseus?”

Hoseok laughed, “Every hero faces challenges.”

Thief, rather. Though being called hero did make a flush creep across your cheeks… until reaching the hubbub, where all colour drained from them. The nine Muses were there, a youth knelt and clasping the knees of one of them in the manner of a supplicant.

“Please,” he begged, “I didn’t mean it, it was just a jest!”

They weren’t moved by his tears. “All here heard you set yourself above shining Apollo, speak ill of him. It is only fitting your mouth be sewn shut with a lyre’s string as punishment.”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows, amused. Nice one. He wished he could be there in his real form to do the job himself. But seeing you attempt to gulp the lump in your throat beside him, he could tell you were horrified. Did you fear to share the same fate? You would, in truth, had Hoseok caught you trying to steal his arrows, but now that he knew your justification and was set on seducing you, a different future was to be woven by the Moirai.

He whispered in your ear, “I think I dropped my bag of coins back where we met. I promise I won’t be long.”

You sighed, “I’ll watch the spectacle in the meantime.” To know what to expect when your time came…

The fair-voiced Muses recognised Hoseok as he left, pretended not to. If he was undercover, he must have a reason, and they wouldn’t out him. They weren’t surprised when he returned as Apollo.

He appeared out of nowhere, the god you planned to slight, so beautiful your eyes almost hurt as when one looks at the sun—radiance shone from his head, his curly hair so bright that a golden crown must camouflage in it under the sunlight, much like Hoseok’s. Guilt stung your heart when his gaze found yours and he smiled warmly.

Apollo then turned his attention to the kneeling youth, who’d begun to sweat. “What do we have here?”

“This boy boasted he was a better musician than you.” The Muses laughed, and you almost did too. It was a ridiculous claim.

“Did he?” Apollo’s good mood seemed untempered. “Well, I’ve no time for a music competition, so shall we just agree you’re in the wrong?”

The youth was quick to nod, yet dared not look away from the ground. “Y-Yes, Phoebus!”

“Do you regret your crime?”

“Awfully, lord, I do!”

“Well, tempted as I may be to make an example of you, today I’m feeling merciful. You’re forgiven.”

There was a pause in which the whole forest fell silent, asking themselves if they’d heard right. A god letting pass an act of hubris was unprecedented. You held the air in your lungs, unsure whether to release it in relief, as this might just mean your venture wasn’t doomed.

“Forgiven?” Even the Muses were dumbfounded.

“It’s not often mortals show remorse, so as long as they do, there’s no need for harsh punishment. Especially if they’re pretty.” Apollo glanced at you, making your lips part, before turning around to face the youth again. “Pour a libation for me and we’ll call it a day, eh?”

Later, long-winged Selene was pulling the moon behind her from the chariot she drove in the sky to bring the night when thanks to Zeus’ sacred laws of hospitality, xenia, an old couple near ARGOS was happy to feed you dinner and provide a bed for you to sleep in—one you’d have to share, which was absolutely fine and not the cause of your arisen nerves.

But once lying on it, the tension in your muscles weakened as you listened to Hoseok play a soothing melody on a lyre he’d found in a chest, and a faint smile settled on your lips.

“This song… I once heard Apollo play it,” you confessed. Given Hoseok was the author of it and had taught it to no one yet, he frowned. He was certain he’d never met you before that day, so how could you have heard him play it?

“When?”

“I was a child. Jungkook and I were playing in the forest outside of Pylos when we heard it. We followed the sound and found Apollo sat against a rock with all sorts of animals surrounding him, listening to him play and hum. It was lovely.”

Even though the gods were known to harshly punish mortals who spied on them, Hoseok smiled too. He played often for the animals, so he didn’t know which specific day you were talking about, but he was glad it served as a happy memory that eased your journey into the embrace of sleep. Although it probably had to do more with your brother.

Hoseok couldn’t blame you, as he also loved his sister deeply, had even slain a divine creature for his mother once. Family was as important to you as it was to him and for that very reason, he realised then that Hermes’ staff was already lost to him. There was nothing else you could afford to care about.

Little did you know, there was nothing else Hoseok chose to care about but you.

Early the next morning, you reached Argos, only that you went around instead of through it.

The great city wasn’t closed, but the old couple had warned you Apollo had stung its citizens with his arrows of pestilence because their queen had neglected him in her devotion, sacrificing to all the gods but him. She should’ve accounted for the detail that while one of his sides was healing and medicine, the other was plague and disease.

Hoseok didn’t regret it. It was her fault her people were suffering. But the grim look on your face when you’d been told… He knew the news had cancelled out the hope born inside you yesterday and that you’d immediately asked yourself that if he’d done that over some sacrifices, what would he do to you for stealing from him?

Midway through the day, while hunting for lunch, he decided to lighten the mood.

“But why not? Most priestesses don’t serve for life!”

A part of you hoped Hoseok was exaggerating his dismay at your refusal to marry not to make you laugh, but so you wouldn’t suspect it was in fact real– No. There was no sense to that thought. Where did it even come from? You were a priestess, he was to be married, and you didn’t know each other.

“My family would have to come up with a dowry and they can’t afford it.”

“I think any is a small price to pay for a man to keep your bed warm.”

Oh… so that was it? He was indignant you wouldn’t know such pleasures? You’d never craved them, honestly, rather thought they were only possible for men. Interesting. But not important right now, as opposed to the rabbit moving about in that bush. Nocking an arrow on your bow, you whispered, “The only man I’d ever care to sleep with anyway is Apollo."

Hoseok felt smug for a second, as he followed your step, then reminded himself this was bad. You were supposed to fall for him, not Apollo. “I’m sure every man back in Pylos prays daily that you quit priesthood.”

A snort betrayed you and the rabbit darted away from the bush, so seizing the chance, you released the arrow and assured lunch. “Thanks Apollo!”

“Don’t mention it–” During the short duration of a missed beat, Hoseok’s heart had forgotten that it was common for mortal archers to thank him, the god of archery, when they hit their targets. Sweet merciful Zeus! Why was he on edge? “Uh… D-Don’t mention his name. We don’t want to summon him, do we?”

Before heading to the lifeless rabbit, you nodded, figuring he was right. “I reckon you can’t wait to meet the girl your brothers want you to marry.”

Hoseok didn’t follow after you, instead watched as you picked up the rabbit and struggled to remove the arrow from its body on your way back to his side. By your tone, he could swear you’d spoken from a place of jealousy, distant as though it may be.

“I find I wouldn’t mind if the trip to Corinth lengthened.”

You looked up once near enough to tell him you would, but the words flew away from your mind the moment your eyes landed on him.

Hoseok was pleased he’d taken this appearance. You were mesmerised, eyes narrowing, likely wondering how you hadn’t noticed until now how attracted you were to him!

Or not. “You’ve a spider crawling up a curl.”

Hoseok was starting to think Hermes and Dionysus were right… The warmth of his divine presence tended to do the job for him, his wit and charm really played a secondary role. Now, he was forced to give up the former, but you, Hoseok feared, were proving to be either immune to the latter or remarkably good at pretending so.

Or maybe it was his fault fully… Just, why the hell did he get so nervous around you?! It was like he couldn't muster a grain of confidence. He’d have to make an effort for the first time not just to flirt, but finish a conversation feeling like he had things under control. That he was in charge.

It wouldn’t help that he wasn’t used to being treated as an equal by a mortal. Much less given commands. ‘Skin the rabbits while I gather some wood’, ‘Burn the fat and bones as a sacrifice to Artemis, will you?’... Even when he’d offered you his share because he, as an immortal, didn’t need food to survive, you’d responded with an assertive ‘Eat’. Not to say he didn’t like it. It was amusing, in a way.

But passing by a small lake fed by a waterfall, Hoseok decided it was his turn.

“Fancy a swim?”

“Sure. And to be fed grapes, while I’m at it,” you chuckled, under the impression Hoseok was joking until you turned around and saw him getting rid of his chiton. Your eyes widened like those of Athena’s owl at the sight of his bare body, looked away only once you’d fought through your shock. “My brother’s life is at stake. If you wish to stay, then this is goodb–”

“Oh, come on, just a quick dive. When was the last time you bathed?”

“Back in Pylos.”

“Thought as much.” You discreetly smelled yourself and at once agreed hygiene shouldn’t be neglected. There was just one thing… and by the way you kept quiet, Hoseok noticed. “What, you’re afraid of water?”

“Not water itself, but drowning.” You played with your fingers, embarrassed to say, “I can’t swim…”

A loud laugh made you snap your head towards its source to see Hoseok approach you naked without any shame. To your own surprise, your feet rooted to the ground instead of stepping back as he promised, “I’ll hold you.”

Never would you have imagined you’d strip naked before a stranger and get in a lake with him, but there was something about him that inspired trust. You knew he wouldn’t take advantage, his gaze keeping away from your private parts proved it so. When the two of you slipped into the water, Hoseok kept a firm grip on your waist, even though you managed to touch the bottom if you stood on your tiptoes. For a second you wished you didn’t, so he could hold you even closer…

“Loosen up, Y/N, you’re as taut as a bowstring,” he said in a low voice, as he was so close he needn’t be loud, and you swallowed hard while nodding.

He next told you to move your limbs about and before you knew it, you were swimming and splashing him and giggling.

The dark began to skew the sky with stars sooner than expected, though, and you blamed the pleasant time spent at the lake for it. You were supposed to sleep in Corinth, where the festival of Aphrodisia was being celebrated, but the city was so far that you were going to miss your ship at dawn!

Luckily, Hoseok had a plan.

While you were picking up some flowers to present to foam-born Aphrodite for lack of a proper offering, he snuck away into the forest, somewhere you wouldn’t hear him summon his kin. A mention of Selene’s name was enough for the goddess to have her white horses land before Hoseok.

Elbow resting on the edge of her chariot and palm holding her jaw, Selene sighed, “I’m busy, Apollo, in case you haven’t noticed. Night doesn’t just come on its own.”

“Speaking of which, I need you to hold back the moon until we get to Corinth, me and–”

“Your priestess, yes.” Selene smirked when Hoseok frowned. “It gets boring up there. One resorts to gazing down, and your lame attempts at seducing this girl provide the funniest distraction.”

“Will you help me, or not?”

Selene laughed, “Gladly.”

And so it was that you reached Corinth before midnight, hair however completely dry as the day had lengthened by many hours. You could piece together no explanation for it, so it had to be what Hoseok mused, that the gods must be making mischief.

Despite the late hour, the streets were crowded with pilgrims who sang hymns to the goddess of love and beauty, and every column of every building was entwined with flowers. The air was also perfumed with the scent of cinnamon but as a priestess, you knew that was to mask the spilled blood of the animals being sacrificed outside the great Temple of Aphrodite, that you entered to leave your modest offering.

Hoseok waited outside, and scoffed when he spotted a familiar face dancing in the crowd, a garland crowning his head. It was the mighty messenger Hermes—or Taehyung, as he liked to address himself when mingling among the mortals in such form.

“Didn’t take you for a faithful follower of Aphrodite’s, little brother,” Hoseok laughed when they stood face to face.

“Well, you know her. She’s likely to welcome me back into her bed if I sing her praises. Literally.” Taehyung looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, made appear his herald’s staff out of thin air. “I hope you haven’t forgotten about our bet? Your priestess will die of old age before you make a move on her.”

“Love isn’t born in a day,” Hoseok retorted in his defence, ignoring Taehyung counting to two with his fingers. “Besides, she’s on a mission of her own, it isn’t currently a prime concern of hers. Be patient, I have no deadline.”

"Even all the time in the world won’t be of help to you, Hoseok.” Taehyung patted his shoulder before joining the dancing crowd again.

Soon, you walked out of the temple and came to a stop in front of Hoseok, too quiet. He frowned.

“What is it?”

You looked everywhere but at him. “She must be waiting for you, the girl you seek to wife.”

Ah, jealous? “I think she’ll be pleased if I keep you company until your ship sets sail tomorrow. Make sure no harm comes to you.”

Since you did want to be with Hoseok for a bit longer, the corners of your mouth quirked into a smile.

The night was spent in a cloud of food, drink, dance, song, and laughter. You loved Jungkook dearly, but it was alleviating to set aside the anxiety suffered for his fate, as well as yours. Wine was good at that, casting away all the bad from one’s mind.

At some point, Hoseok decided it was bedtime. Relying on xenia and the generosity of strangers, he knocked on the first door he saw and a family surely opened it to welcome you in. They showed you to a spare room after some chatting and the second you were alone, you wrapped your arms around Hoseok’s neck and made your lips join.

He was taken aback, but readily licked both your lips before kissing you back ardently, like you were the goddess and he your worshipper. You closed the distance between your bodies to melt into his warm embrace. Hoseok knew you craved him inside, so as a tease, he slipped his tongue in your mouth when you relaxed your jaw and slid it across yours as his cock would. That caused you to moan, and your core pulsate with lust. This might be one of your last nights alive, so why not treat it as such and give in to your desires? To the sweet passion Hoseok stirred inside you?

You would’ve, had he not suddenly pulled back.

Your mouth tried to seek his, even let out a few whines, but he wasn’t having it. Why? Why too did he look like he was suppressing annoyance?

Hoseok did want to savour every sweet bit of you, but what he’d tasted on your tongue was an abundance of Dionysus’ wine. In truth, he only needed take a look at you, so drunk you could barely stand, supporting your weight on him not to stumble. Hoseok sighed.

As a god, he wasn’t subjected to the laws of man. They didn’t apply to him, nor did their morality, so plundering you in that state wasn’t a crime. Mortals were created out of clay to serve the immortals and be playthings to them… and yet Hoseok wanted to earn your love. Not because of the bet, which meant less to him the more time he spent with you, but because he was catching feelings himself.

Besides, none of this was real to begin with. You were just convinced you were going to die, hence why you were doing what you normally wouldn’t.

“Not like this, Y/N.” And carefully, he led you to the bed, where you fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

Your eyes fluttered open when Selene’s sister Eos cast open the gates of dawn.

An ache grounding into your temples, you sat up only to realise the other side of the bed was empty, thanked the gods for it when memories of the previous night resurfaced and embarrassment drowned you. What had you done?

And more urgently, what time was it?

You couldn’t risk missing that ship, so you slapped your own cheek—yes—and pulled yourself together, dismissing every thought that didn’t include Jungkook before joining the family for a quick yet lively breakfast.

The walk to the port was however a quiet one, where neither you or Hoseok seemed to know how to get rid of the awkwardness, and because of that, it was disconcerting when he held your hands once stood by the ship you were to embark, so tenderly like they were injured and he didn’t want to hurt you.

“I want to come with you.”

It took you a second to react. “No. We don’t both need to suffer the wrath of a god.”

“But I won’t let you die.”

You withdrew your hands, smiling wistfully. “My death is not for you to impede.”

Hoseok bit his tongue. “Have faith. We will meet again.”

Sailing away you pondered over how, if you ever did see Hoseok again, it would be as a married man. You’d rather rot in the depths of Hades’ dead kingdom.

For the moment, you prayed Poseidon was in a good mood and his waters remained peaceful as fortunately, your destination was another: the home of the Muses, as the cave in MOUNT PARNASSUS was known to be, and the place where Apollo’s golden bow and arrows were safeguarded when he had no need for them.

Merely crossing the gulf of Corinth would take you a full day, so in the meantime, Hoseok set off to Pylos. He wanted to get to the truth of the matter.

He found your brother guarded only by bronze bars, snuggled up on the cold floor of the palace’s underground cells. Apollo squatted next to him to tuck behind his ear the fluffy dark hair that covered his face, and a whisper of Jungkook’s name was enough to waken him.

Indeed, it was wide awake how he screamed and cowered at the corner of the cell.

“It’s been but four days, the king said I had seven! You can’t execute me yet, whatever the prince says!”

“I’m no executioner, Jungkook. I’m Apollo.”

“The new cook?”

“The Olympian!”

“Oh…” Yes, he should’ve guessed it was absurd for the palace’s new cook to come greet him in his cell. Wait– Did this man say he was Olympian Apollo? Jungkook rubbed the remaining sleep off his eyes and wondered how he could not have recognised those shiny blond curls! “Oh.”

The god barely stifled an eye-roll. “I’m here to hear what happened. Tell me, and know that I’ll see a shadow behind your words if you lie.”

Jungkook gulped. “I was wrongly accused, lord. It is the prince who should be sentenced to death.”

Apollo cocked his head to a side. “The prince?”

“I’m his serving boy. The other day, I overheard him plot against the king with his stepmother. Everybody knows they’re having an affair… Well, everybody but the king, of course. I was going to warn His Grace, but the prince caught me and claimed I was the one behind the plot. The king decided that I’d be executed in four days from now if my older sister Y/N failed to bring him–” Jungkook shut his lips at once.

“My golden arrows.”

Oh, no. He knew of your quest? “Y/N is a priestess of your temple here in Pylos! She’s devoted to you, of all the heavenly gods fears your wrath most!”

“I know.” Apollo stood up and gave him a reassuring smile. “As I know you are telling me the truth.”

At nightfall, you arrived in DELPHI, heart hammering its way through your chest, as on the morrow you’d reach Mount Parnassus and carry through your blasphemous theft.

The nerves were clearly not going to let you sleep, so there was no point in making use of Zeus’ xenia. Instead, you were waiting for the change of guards at the entrance of the great Temple of Apollo—where the high priestess Pythia served as an oracle uttering prophecies under divine possession—so you could sneak in. Once inside, you walked to the end of the naos only to kneel before a tall statue of Apollo that made no justice to his ethereal beauty, and raised your hands into the air with your eyes closed.

“Hear me, child of Leto, he who presides over this temple! If ever I’ve served you in the past, if ever you’ve loved your sister as I love my brother and would do anything for him, grant my prayer and… do take out your vengeance on me. But not tomorrow when I rob you of your arrows, only after I have saved my Jungkook from the sword. Please, heed me!”

“I’ve never known anyone so foolish as to announce to a god her plan to steal from him.”

Your eyes snapped open to see the Pythia lurking in the shadows behind the statue. Shit.

Coming to your feet, you wanted to reach for your quiver and cut her life short before she alerted the guards. You were in a sacred place, but what was one more unforgivable sin?

What stopped you were Apollo’s own lethal weapons, his golden arrows, magically appearing in her hands.

“Phoebus has cursed them. Any who isn’t him and uses them will perish,” the Pythia explained flatly, as if she was hearing his voice in her head and repeating them out loud. “He wants you to give them to your king.”

She handed you the arrows, at which you stared astounded. Apollo knew? Had heard your prayers?

“What of my fate?”

“No harm will come to you by his hand, or any other,” she promised. “You’re under his protection now.”

Tears quickly flooded your eyes and then streamed down your cheeks. Your shaky breath morphed into a laugh and your laugh into a sob, all out of relief. Hoseok randomly crossed your mind, and the next question you didn’t know whether was addressed to the Pythia or yourself. “But why?”

She approached and cupped your cheeks, using her thumbs to wipe your tears gently. Even if you neither knew nor trusted her, you didn’t step back. Her touch was warm, felt strangely familiar…

“Because he’s looked into your heart and seen his light.”

Apollo was done with Hoseok for the moment. Or so he’d thought.

He’d meant to watch you from the clouds save your brother and be done with the ‘tomorrow I may die, so I’ll behave like nothing matters because nothing does’ cast of mind. He wanted to matter to you, to be loved by you.

Alas, his hopes and dreams were crushed.

The fifth day of your quest you spent sailing back to Corinth, but your sixth one, you finished entering Argos. Now, why in Hades would you do that?! Death dwelled in that city, had you forgotten? Or mayhap… you feared not disease, after being told Apollo would protect you.

Alright. He’d make you invulnerable like Achilles, then. No problem. He was about to when he saw two guards suddenly arrest you for no apparent reason in the middle of the street and drag you to the palace. Immediately, Apollo took the appearance of Hoseok and stormed off from Olympus—though really not that bothered in view of the fact that it meant he got to meet you again.

You, however, weren’t sure you were glad to see him. Not there, at least.

“Y/N, what a coincidence!” he joked before the guard manhandling him into the throne room forced him on his knees next to you. “Do you buy your vegetables here too?”

“Who is this?” the queen asked annoyed.

She was standing in front of the two of you, a small crowd of courtiers gathered as an expectant audience that seemed to be about to watch some spectacle. If only you knew what it was about. You’d been shoved there with no explanation, were about to demand one right before Hoseok showed up.

“He says he’s her companion, Your Grace.”

The queen frowned. “But the prophecy spoke of one only…”

Hoseok quelled a frown. Prophecies passed through him, and there was none yet that involved Argos. No, the city was supposed to suffer until he saw fit.

You, on your part, had had enough. Had wasted enough time. “I command you let us go right now! You’ve no reason to detain us!”

The queen scoffed, looking down both at and on you. “You command me, brat? I’d order your death if you weren’t already destined to have your throat slit at the sacrificial altar.”

What? In dismay, you turned to a Hoseok who seemed to not fear the queen of Argos at all, rather looked at her suspiciously.

“Perhaps if you were as kind as to tell us why, Your Grace,” he asked, disdain hidden behind his faked respectful tone. The queen wasn’t blind to it, but let it pass, choosing to just glare at him.

“Over the smallest thing, Apollo has cursed the whole of Argos with a plague. My seer claims the only way to appease his anger is to sacrifice in holy ritual the one person who dares enter the city.”

Hoseok almost laughed. Her seer was a fraud.

“Your Grace!”

Before you could even whip your head around, a guard had snatched the golden arrows from your quiver and walked over to the queen. You tried to stand up to retrieve them, but another guard held you down.

“What have we here?” The queen realised whom the arrows belonged to the second she had a closer look, gasped in shock. “It cannot be! Are these–”

“Mine.”

Everyone, including you, stared at Hoseok in disbelief.

The queen faced him. “So, you’re the thief?” Oh, no, of course! He didn’t know what had happened in Delphi, believed you’d stolen the arrows and would be punished by anyone who found out… Fool. Why would he cover for you? “Well, well. Apollo’s stolen weapons returned and a double human sacrifice… My loyal subjects, tomorrow Argos is saved!”

A loud cheer erupted, one you could still hear from the dark cell you and Hoseok were taken to by guards who then left to celebrate, trusting the bars to do their job.

You joined your palms and forehead with the wall, mumbled, “What use is your protection now that I’m stuck?” Hoseok knew that question was addressed at Apollo. The next one, however, asked as you turned around and walked up to him, was loud and clear and meant for Hoseok. “And what are you doing here? Are you mad?”

He flinched back, confused. Weren’t you happy to see him? “I came for you.”

You wanted to ask ‘What about the plague?’, but what instead came out was, “What about the other girl?”

Other… So you already considered yourself his?

Hoseok gazed into your eyes as he confessed, “My brothers wanted me to meet a girl, and I have.”

Your lips parted slightly. He’d turned down a possible bride in favour of you? He was mad. Mad enough to return whatever feelings you were struggling to suppress. You turned away from him, arms crossed. “A girl who’ll lead you to your death.”

Neither of you was dying tomorrow, Hoseok would sooner kill the whole of Argos than let anyone lay a finger on you.

“A girl who’d love me.”

Frozen in your spot, you daren’t turn around. Love was a strong word, and you’d known this man for just a few days. Eros’ arrow can’t have pierced your skin! Although… you couldn’t deny it must have grazed or scratched it.

“I don’t, I’m a priestess. What happened the other night… was a mistake. I’m sorry, I regret it.”

Since you weren’t looking, Hoseok allowed his lips an ironic smile. He could tell you were lying, trying to convince yourself rather than him. “You can both love Apollo and be in love with me.”

Shocked, you turned around. “Are you asking me to risk my position in order to what, be your lover?”

“It’s the gods who’ve brought us together,” Hoseok explained, walking closer. You held your breath, “who’ve shut the gates of my mind so I can think only of you. I believe the gods wouldn’t put your position in peril.”

And true that was. Priestesses were supposed to be spouses of the deities they served, so once Hoseok revealed his identity, you’d be relieved to learn your vow of chastity hadn’t been broken, as he was the only one it didn’t apply to.

You glanced down at his lips, then shook your head as though resisting a spell. “In my mind, there is only Jungkook.” The cell wasn’t too spacious, but out of stress you still paced around it. “And now we’ll die apart because I trusted a god who may have tricked me.”

Hoseok chuckled in the middle of the deep breath you were taking to calm down.

“You didn’t think I came here without a plan?” He walked over to put his hands on your shoulders and give them a gentle squeeze, putting an end to your pacing. “I’ll do everything in my power to reunite you with your brother. Do you trust me?”

You remembered when he told you to have faith you’d meet again. And you had. Besides, what other choice was there? “I do.”

Hoseok let go of you and went to lie down on the small bed, hands behind his head and eyes closed. “Then we’ll have to wait a couple of hours.”

You stared at him. He really didn’t want to just bed you, was actually looking out for you in a way Apollo was failing to. Or maybe he had sent him… Either way, Hoseok meant not to demand your love but deserve it, making your problems his like you shared a soul and body—and his, you realised then, you no longer wanted to resist.

“A couple of hours?” Hoseok nodded. “Well… it’s cold.”

“It is?”

You sighed, not knowing how to say it. “You once told me any is a small price for a man to keep your bed warm.”

Hoseok opened his eyes before the sentence was over and propped himself up on one elbow. You sat on the edge of the bed, a trembling hand rising that shyly caressed his cheek until he placed his own over it, and pressed a bit harder so you could really feel him, how hot his divine silver blood—known as ichor—was turning. You did, flashes of the night you kissed him making it into your mind. How his lips felt around yours, his tongue inside your mouth, your bodies pushed together…

Both leaned in at the same time, melting in a kiss that led to a night of pleasure dedicated to Aphrodite.

Meanwhile, Dionysus was doing his part.

Having taken the form he liked to call Jimin, he’d pretended to be a cupbearer at the feast the queen of Argos had held to celebrate the end of her punishment. No one noticed he didn’t belong as he poured his special, unmixed wine into the cups of every person in attendance, masking its strong taste with his powers. In a matter of hours, the whole court had lost their senses and passed out where they were, as mortal parties tended to finish in the presence of the god of intoxication.

Satisfied, he skipped his way to the cells, where he found you and Hoseok all cuddled up, skins glowing with the vigour you had loved each other with.

Jimin waved his hand and the cell’s door opened slowly, as though by a draft, but you turned around at once to see no one. “The gods be praised!”

Only seen and heard by a Hoseok who kept gesturing him to leave behind your back, Jimin laughed, “Dionysus, specifically.”

He disappeared then, and you and Hoseok didn’t hesitate to get out of there. What you did hesitate to believe was what your eyes witnessed once, in search of Apollo’s confiscated golden arrows, you entered the banquet hall. A whole court in the arms of Morpheus…

“There they are,” Hoseok whispered not to wake anyone, pointing at the end of the table, where the queen sat and in front of whom the arrows lied.

He walked over to get them, staring at the woman responsible for so much offence. Shielding the action with his body so you wouldn’t see, Hoseok grazed her arm with the tip of one of his sharp arrows, drawing blood. That was enough for her breath to still, her life to end.

You made it safely outside the city, near the house of the elderly couple who’d hosted you days past, even, but at some point you looked up at the moon and halted your rushed pace a tad abruptly, forcing Hoseok to do so as well since you were holding hands.

He frowned. “I don’t think this is the time to sightsee, Y/N.”

“But what’s the point?” you cried. “Pylos is more than two days away. There’s no way we can get there before sunrise.”

Hoseok looked up at the sky behind you, smiled. “Indeed. Though we might get there at the same time.”

You turned around for a peach-coloured sunlight to filter through the clouds and blind you.

Hold on, how could this be? It had been night for only some hours! And yet, before the two of you landed her chariot Selene’s sister, the rosy-fingered Eos. You held Hoseok’s hand tightly. In the presence of a goddess, one could not help but feel tense.

“You, child. Are you Y/N of Pylos?”

“I am, l-lady.”

She smiled kindly. “I’ve been sent to give you a ride, Y/N. I believe your king expects you.”

Relief washing over, you grinned at Hoseok, who caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. “This must be Apollo’s doing!”

“Must be, yes.”

You turned back to Eos and nodded. “Off we go, then, lady.”

In about twenty minutes, people in front of the palace of Pylos were making space for the white horses to land their chariot.

Everyone stared in awe. Doubtless they’d thought you were going to fail, yet here you were escorted by a goddess, with Apollo’s golden arrows in your quiver, and… a foreign man holding your hand?

Once Eos had flown away to drag along the dawn to the West, you discerned on the judgemental faces of the Pylians the conclusions they had jumped to. Conclusions that were correct. You had given your virginity to a stranger, become a whore in the eyes of the world…

Hoseok was the one who let go of the hand he’d been holding ever since you lay together, and you missed his touch right away, like it was the air your lungs needed to breathe. He put some distance between you and with a respectful bow of his head—that was just for show—said, “After you, priestess.”

Eager to hold Jungkook in your arms again, you nodded, then led the way to the throne room.

The second you walked in, all heads turned to the king, who was sat on his throne on the top of some steps, looking at you in the same shocked manner everyone was. Nobody dared say a word. The only sounds in the room were first that of your feet taking you in front of the steps, Hoseok closely behind, and second that of you reaching into your quiver to get hold of the arrows.

The king leaned forward as though spellbound by the beauty of the deadly weapons, without taking his eyes off them ordered a guard, “Bring the boy.”

You turned to smile at Hoseok and he smiled back, but once you’d directed your attention to the door, he continued glaring at the greedy king. He obviously believed luck was on his side, given you’d come back from a suicide mission with a prize for him, but he’d soon learn the gods were not to be fucked with.

“Y/N!” Jungkook exclaimed as the guard dragged him into the throne room. Having eyes only for your brother, you didn’t notice the prince and his stepmother arrived next and took the king’s side while sharing worried looks. Hoseok did, sensed they feared Jungkook would reveal their plot now that he wasn’t going to be executed. You were about to go make sure he was alright, but the king’s voice stopped you.

“Uh-uh. The arrows first.”

Apollo’s curse in mind, you carefully presented them to him. Hoseok watched as he examined them while you ran to embrace Jungkook free of impediment, then passed them on to his son.

Who wasted no time in stabbing his neck with one of them.

Gasps and screams tore the silence apart, echoing as if they came from the stage of a theatre. In fairness, you might as well be in a tragedy play.

Shielding Jungkook with your body out of instinct, you kept still not to draw the gloating prince and his stepmother’s attention, eyes wandering to a Hoseok who otherwise walked over to you without a care for the blood crime just committed. The murder of one’s relatives was against the natural order, punished by the Erinyes themselves. Fortunately for the prince, he wouldn’t be tormented by the goddesses of vengeance, as the curse was already doing its work, causing him to choke in the midst of a speech in which he was declaring himself the new king of Pylos.

To everyone’s confusion but yours, he fell down the steps, lifeless before reaching the floor. His stepmother and lover shrieked, knelt beside him to try to shake him awake, but to no avail. It was then when she found you among the courtiers and through her tears and grief, glared at you.

“What have you done?!” she shouted, Hoseok alone noticed, surreptitiously curling her fingers around the shaft of one of the golden arrows scattered about. “I’ll have your head for this!”

What followed happened so quickly that you had little time to react.

Arrow raised in a fist, the queen lunged herself at you, but Hoseok stopped her right before she reached you by grabbing her wrist, and as she fought to free herself, he received a small cut on the hand. Eyes wide with horror, you gasped.

No.

No, no, no, no…

“Is his blood silver?” Jungkook whispered to himself, and after a second his words transformed from a distant, incoherent echo to a clear question. Upon realising he was right, you frowned.

Hoseok snatched the arrow from the queen and she stumbled backwards, glancing at the guards.

“Come to the aid of your queen, I command you!”

Despite their reluctance, they were going to, but froze when Hoseok nocked the arrow on his bow and this one turned from wooden to gold before their eyes… and not just that.

Something changed about his appearance. Was it the hair? The eyes? You couldn’t tell. It was subtle enough to miss it yet substantial enough to know that your Hoseok was actually a god in disguise.

No other than Apollo, in all his glory!

As you blinked a few times trying to make sense of it, he aimed his arrow at the queen, and playing deaf to her pleas, slew her. Of course, his curse wouldn’t apply to an immortal.

When he turned around, a sea of courtiers fell to their knees, but he cared only about you, standing there in shock. Suddenly taking pity, he didn’t look forward at all to telling you he’d tricked you because of a bet…

A man thankfully rose to his feet and approached him before he had the chance to open his mouth. “Heavenly lord! You’ve blessed Pylos with your presence to free us from a family unworthy of our throne. Tell us, what can we ever do to thank you?”

Hoseok– or Apollo? This was tough, since you could somehow see both at the same time... Well, whoever, replied, “For now, consign the bodies of these three to the UNDERWORLD with all proper rites and burn them.”

Had Hoseok’s voice always been honeyed? His words certainly were... Though looking back, he’d never lied to you, just tip-toed around the truth. Didn’t make you feel any better, but he was a god. What an insignificant mortal felt must be irrelevant to him.

The courtier nodded, followed along with everyone the guards who carried the dead royal family outside of the throne room. Only you and Jungkook remained. And him.

“Leave us, little brother,” you ordered softly.

“But–”

“Listen to your sister. Fear not, I won’t harm her.”

Jungkook trusted that, he just didn’t want to leave your side ever again. However, it became clear to him that defying a god was the stupidest idea when he met his eyes. There was a subtle threat reflected on them.

He didn’t need to be told twice to go then, and the silence he left behind was beyond tense.

You daren’t look at Apollo now that you were alone. The man you’d spoken so casually to, bossed around, shouted at, made love with. But when you did muster some courage, you realised he didn’t seem so different in appearance, it was just that you weren’t blind to his splendour anymore.

He beckoned you to come closer and you obeyed with your face cast down as, would he punish you for doing the king’s bidding and stealing from him, after all? To your relief, he only raised your chin gently to make you look at him, but your eyes instead landed on the small cut on his hand, and without thinking you held it to check whether it was deep, careful not to touch his blood as ichor was deadly to mortals.

“Y-You’re hurt…”

“This little thing?” Apollo smiled at your concern, as it was no more than a scratch. He blew his divine breath on the wound and in seconds, it healed completely. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

“You owe me nothing, lord.”

“Hoseok is fine. I rather like the sound of it when you say it.” He sighed when you just nodded. “We didn’t meet by chance, Y/N. Hermes and Dionysus dared me to seduce the first mortal my eyes set upon without revealing my identity.” Oh, so worse than you’d imagined. “It didn’t occur to me that you’d beat me to it.”

Your lips parted in confusion. “To seducing you? But I’ve done nothing but disrespect Apollo– I mean, Hoseok– Uh, you…”

He chuckled, “Believe me, I know. Without meaning to, you’ve bewitched a god well enough to make him overlook hubris. Do you know what that means?”

You shook your head.

“It means I am in love with you, and that I want you to be mine.” You avoided his gaze out of shyness, but he cupped your cheeks and kissed you like he had done back in that cell less than an hour ago, taking your breath away—only this time, you felt the heat of the sun itself on your lips. He pulled back only to whisper against them, “You know I do not lie.”

You did know that. But could you forgive so easily being deceived over a bet? Even the god of whom you were a priestess?

Truth was, it wasn’t just the fear of what then seemed to be a certain death by the hands of Apollo that drew you to his embrace the night before you left Corinth. Neither was it just lust in Argos. He’d earned your love, so much so that you’d agreed to become his lover, were likely going to quit being a priestess at some point to be wed to him. The bet was won long ago, he knew he needn’t claim your maidenhood for it, and yet he’d stuck around.

A different face mattered not.

He loved you, and you loved him.

“I am already yours.”

Hoseok hummed pleased before you kissed him, and you felt his smile grow under your lips. It made you smile too, and the two separated to laugh. Then, he headed to the steps to pick up his golden arrows and put them in his quiver.

“You’re leaving?”

“I must leave for Olympus. I have responsibilities I’ve set aside this past week, but I’ll come back whenever you utter a prayer to me. I promise.”

He saw the disappointment on your face and placed a hand over your belly, making you frown. “Intimacy with the gods always bears fruit. I can already feel twins growing inside you, and I cannot wait to raise them alongside you.”

At the thought of your children playing around the forest the same way you and Jungkook once did—or Apollo and Artemis, at that—you couldn’t help but smile again. Not to mention that you would not only preserve your position as a priestess, but also be revered for giving a god descendants.

Hoseok kissed you one last time, and when you opened your eyes, he was gone, but his warmth remained.

#bts au #btswritingcafe #jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok fluff #hoseok imagine #bts #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts hoseok #apollo!hoseok #bangtan imagine #bts greek gods #jung hoseok scenarios #bangtan #bts fanfic #jhope

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snifflyjoonie · 11 months

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Call Me What I Am

In which Jimin has to take an immediate leave from work.

Whump-centric featuring an injured Jimin and a stubborn Yoongi. (plus a little allergic!Yoongi as a treat)

Word count: 3032

FlowerShop!AU Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

a/n: Hi, all! I’m so excited but so incredibly nervous to be back with my first full-length fic in awhile. I feel so unbelievably rusty, and I’m really hoping that doesn’t reflect too much in my writing. I’m so beyond appreciate of those of you that have been so kind to me while I took a much longer than anticipated hiatus. But I’m happy to be back! The featured flower for this installment is a black dahlia. Points if you know what types of emotions they represent! This is my first ever fic on this blog that doesn’t involve illness, and is my first injury fic period. It required me to do a bit of research, so I hope I did the story justice! Please let me know if you guys end up liking this one xx thanks for reading!

It had only taken Jimin a few months to realize that there truly was no-one out there quite like Min Yoongi.

Granted, he had expected so from the very beginning. There was just something about the tattoo artist that continued to draw Jimin in the more they spent their time together. Each date would seem better than the last, and Jimin found himself more times than not planning out what the two could do on their next outing before the current one had even finished. But despite the unbridled amounts of joy they would experience together, there was something about Yoongi that had been on Jimin’s mind for quite some time now.

For one reason or another, the tattooer did not want to call him his ‘boyfriend’.

The pair had been exclusively seeing each other for a while now and had mutually enjoyed every single excursion they’d been on, but yet…nothing had been made official. Jimin was more than ready, but Yoongi – despite his normal air of nonchalance – seemed oddly hesitant. The florist had tried to subtly hint at his eagerness to be partners, but whenever any kind of ‘boyfriend’ or ‘lable’ conversation began to rear its ugly head, Yoongi was always quick to change the subject. Jimin had even tried asking Namjoon about it, hopeful that maybe the man’s ex-coworker could shed some light on his uncertainty, but all the other could offer was a shake of his head and an unsure-sounding ‘Yoongi is…just like that.’

Yoongi’s unwillingness, or perhaps tentativeness, to solidify their relationship had started to fill Jimin with anxiety and self-doubt. The longer this went on, the worse the feelings would get. There were many nights he’d lie awake second guessing if he was maybe too loud on their most recent date, or possibly too giddy, or too annoying…too anything that would make Yoongi not want to see him anymore. But, Yoongi would always call him the next day, ready to plan something else, or to even just talk. It would always leave Jimin feeling more confused by the end of it. It almost felt as if he was getting pulled in two different directions — the relief of Yoongi still wanting to see him on one side and the frustration of maybe not being good enough on the other.

Finally, Jimin had had enough. He was going to get an answer out of Yoongi one way or another. He owed it to himself. He wasn’t going to get strung along like all of the other times in his life.

Yoongi was going to make a decision whether he liked it or not, no matter the outcome.

Jimin stares out his shop’s window with his chin resting in his palm as the fingers of his free hand drum anxious melodies against the wood of his front counter. It’s raining outside, and the florist can see the fat water droplets draw indiscernible patterns as they trickle down the window pane. It has been raining for two days straight and, according to the weather forecast, would rain for at least three more. Jimin sighs. It was almost as if the weather outside could feel his own inner turmoil, the sky crying alongside him in chaotic solidarity.

He pushes himself away from the counter and heads over to the front door, locking it and flipping his sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’. Today had dragged on, and Jimin was both relieved and nervous when the clock had finally struck five.

He had been anxious all day, playing the conversation he wanted to have with Yoongi over and over on loop in his head. He dreaded the worst case scenario. Despite what he kept telling himself, he really wasn’t ready to possibly lose the other. He couldn’t bear the thought.

Letting out a shaky breath, Jimin pulls on his coat and slips on his shoes. He knew Yoongi would be at his tattoo parlour tonight, so that was where Jimin would head next. It was now or never.

As he pushes open the door and tumbles in, Jimin hears the words before he fully registers that Jungkook is resting stomach down on one of Yoongi’s tattoo beds.

“Oh shit, Yoongi — your boyfriend is here.”

He sees Yoongi glance over his shoulder towards him briefly before turning his focus back onto the half finished artwork on Jungkook’s back. If he was at all taken aback by Jungkook labelling him as “boyfriend” his face doesn’t show it.

“Hey.” He greets, and Jimin is barely able to make it out over the buzzing sound of his tattoo gun.

“Hey, sorry to bug you.” Jimin huffs as his soggy hair drips cold raindrops down his cheeks. “I knew you were working late so I thought I’d drop off some food. Hey, Gguk. There’s enough for you too, if you want.”

Jungkook makes an appreciative noise as he turns to Yoongi with mock surprise plastered on his face.

“Yoongiiiii, I would die for your boyfriend.”

There it is again, that word...boyfriend. It makes Jimin go ridgid, but why would Jungkook consider them anything else?

This time he sees Yoongi scoff slightly before deciding to speak up.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” He mumbles as he turns his attention back to Jimin, his expression unreadable. “Just put the bags on that table there.” He nods towards a small coffee table that sits in the corner of the room. “I’m a little busy right now.”

Jimin can see Jungkook’s eyes dart to him like a homing beacon. He’s waiting for a reaction, waiting to see if what Yoongi said was out of line or really the truth. Jimin doesn’t give it to him. He instead simply smiles tightly, nods, and sets the food down where Yoongi had instructed.

“It’s Chinese.” He murmurs. “Hopefully it’s okay.”

Yoongi hums instead of responding. He’s too focused on what he’s doing which Jimin finds both admirable as well as frustrating. Jungkook on the other hand seems ecstatic, which Jimin guesses he appreciates.

“You guys…almost done?” He questions as he wiggles out of his soggy jacket and kicks off his muddy shoes.

“Nearly.” Yoongi deadpans as Jimin slowly makes his way over to take a peek. From what he can see, Yoongi is etching one of his beautiful signature floral pieces into the other’s skin. The artist had already finished the line work and was now working on delicately shading each individual petal.

“Like it?” Jungkook asks, his smile growing when Jimin nods back. “I just let Yoongi do whatever he wanted this time. I’m glad he had some space for me today because I—”

The host is cut off as Yoongi suddenly sniffs sharply, lifting the tattoo gun from Jungkook’s back as he pushes himself away. Jimin can see him scrunch up his nose before he aggressively begins to rub it against his shoulder.

“All good?” Jungkook asks, glancing curiously over his shoulder to try and see why the tattoo artist has stopped.

“Ugh, yeah, just…fuck.” Yoongi suddenly snaps his attention to Jimin and the florist is surprised to see that he’s glaring. “Did you come straight from the shop?”

“I? Yes?” Jimin blinks, surprised by the sudden bite in Yoongi’s voice. “I mean I grabbed the Chinese before coming here, but I—”

He’s cut off by the artist aggressively waving him away.

“Look at you, your shirt’s covered in pollen. Ugh, you smell like a goddamn garden, Jimin, back up.”

Although taken aback by the other’s hostility, Jimin obeys without question and takes a deliberate step backward. He’s aware of Jungkook’s eyes once again locking onto him, clearly searching his face for any sign that Yoongi’s behaviour is perhaps abnormal, but again Jimin remains stoic.

“Why are you even—hh—hH’ISSHhhiuew!” Yoongi interrupts himself with a sneeze that he desperately tries to aim anywhere but towards his sanitised equipment. After the first comes a second, and then a third. Finally Yoongi swears loudly and slams his tattoo gun down onto his table, swivelling fast in his chair towards Jimin. “What are you doing here, Jimin.” His voice is like venom, but he becomes considerably less intimidating upon a gurgling sniffle. “I’m busy tonight. I told you that when you texted me yesterday.”

“I just needed to talk to you, Yoongi.” Jimin murmurs, “I knew you’d be here and I don’t mind waiting. Why don’t I just go sit in the lobby so I don’t—”

“Talk about what?” Yoongi cuts him off as he presses his nose against his tattooed forearm. “What could possibly be so urgent?”

For the first time since walking into the tattoo parlour, Jimin can feel his voice start to falter. Up until this moment Yoongi had never once before spoken to him in this tone, and frankly, the florist wasn’t sure what to make of it. He had expected Yoongi to get annoyed with him, granted, but to be annoyed even before the conversation he wanted to have began was making Jimin’s initial adrenaline start to sputter and fizzle out.

“I think I’d…rather talk in private.” He almost whispers, glancing towards Jungkook with mild embarrassment as the host looks back and forth between the two. “That’s why I don’t mind waiting. I’m sorry about this, Gguk…” he offers meekly, but the host quickly shakes his head and gestures that it’s fine. Despite this, Jimin can still tell that he feels uncomfortable — who wouldn’t?

“You came all of this way without warning, you’ve now interrupted my session, and on top of everything you’ve made my allergies flare up in the middle of a tattoo.” Yoongi scoffs, emphasising his last point with another wet sniffle as he pulls off his gloves, making Jimin wince. “So you might as well just say what you need to say so that I can blow my nose and get back to work.”

“Yoongi, I really—”

“Jimin, just get on with it.”

“But I just—”

“Listen, you’ve got about five seconds before I—”

“Yoongi, I need to talk to you about us!” Jimin blurts, instantly flushing red as he watches Yoongi’s mouth fall agape, his sentence abruptly dying on his tongue. Jungkook in turn buries his face into his hands, clearly wishing he could be anywhere else but here.

“…What?” Yoongi chokes, obviously taken aback.

“Us, Yoongi.” Jimin continues on, desperately trying to ignore the unexpected third person in the room. “I just…need to talk to you about us.”

To Jimin’s surprise, a light pink blush begins to spread across Yoongi’s cheeks.

“…What about us?”

“I just…” Jimin rakes a hand through his damp hair and allows himself a moment to search for the right words. Despite all of his attempts to prepare for this conversation he still doesn’t feel ready. “…I need you to tell me what I am to you.” He finally says, locking eyes with Yoongi as he does so. “I need to hear you say it.”

“And this couldn’t wait?”

“I’ve been waiting.” Jimin retorts, but the tone of his voice is starting to noticeably pitch up in desperation. “It’s been months, Yoongi.”

“And somehow you think the right time to bring this up to me is when I’m…when I’m in the middle of— HATSH’hhiuew!” Yoongi twists to the side and catches his sudden sneeze into cupped hands before he swears loudly once again. Jimin can see he’s getting visibly agitated at himself and the situation, but the florist isn’t ready to back down.

“I tried to tell you it could wait until you were finished, but you weren’t listening!” Jimin shouts back as thunder claps somewhere off in the distance.

“Why the hell does this matter so much to you?”

Because I’m falling in love with you!

Jimin bites down hard on his tongue and fights back the tears that are starting to well up in his eyes as his inner voice screams the words he’s too afraid to say. The silence that follows is loud and horrible, only being broken by the crashing sound of raindrops as they pelt wildly against the windows.

“Jimin,” Yoongi continues after a moment when it’s clear Jimin has nothing more to say. “I like you and I want to keep seeing you. Shouldn’t that be enough? Why do you want to label this so badly?”

The florist feels his cheeks grow hotter with a mix of rage and humiliation. The conversation was going absolutely nowhere and he nearly felt ready to rip his hair out. He opens his mouth to respond again, to maybe come up with some type of response that would somehow magically show Yoongi exactly why it felt so important to him, but instead he’s cut off by a sudden interjection from Jungkook.

“Um,” the host starts, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “I know this is probably bad timing, but…are we going to eat that Chinese food, or…?”

The other two stare blankly at him in pure dumbfoundment. Sensing this, Jungkook merely nods in understanding and resumes his futile attempt to disappear. Yoongi is the first to speak back up, but thanks to Jungkook there is considerably less tension permeating the air around them.

“Jimin,” he sighs, and Jimin can see the man’s eyes visibly darken.

The same eyes that he could see oceans in, the eyes he’d get lost in, the eyes he’s grown to love…Jimin dreads what’s to come next.

“I think you’d better leave.”

The bluntness of Yoongi’s words cut into him like a hot knife through butter. He purses his lips and nods, doing everything in his power to fight the continued urge to cry. He feels stupid, regretful, and unbelievably embarrassed. He’d really thought that Yoongi was someone special, someone different, someone he could truly see himself loving for years to come. He was devastated to realize that wasn’t the case.

Without another word Jimin heads to the door. He pulls on his now chilly, damp jacket, slips into his water-logged shoes as fast as he can, and rips open the door. The violent rain wastes no time slamming against him like a thousand tiny bee stings as the hot summer storm rages with no sign of letting up.

Blinded by an indecipherable mixture of his own tears and the pouring rain, Jimin can’t help but immediately lose his footing on the steps outside of Yoongi’s shop. He tries to catch himself, reaching out dramatically for the railing to his side, but it’s too late.

The florist tumbles to the ground and lands hard onto his right wrist with a horrifically gory sounding crunch.

Hot searing pain shoots through Jimin’s joint like lightning. The agonizing tendrils reach all the way down to his elbow and up the very tips of each of his fingers. He cries out involuntarily and the sound he makes is shrill and animalistic. He barely even recognizes it as his own voice.

It feels almost as if he's been punched in the gut; he gasps for air greedily through his now gritted teeth but it never feels like enough. He sees spots and his head swims. Any attempt he makes to move his wrist is met by unimaginable amounts of sharp, protesting pain and he knows without a doubt that he’s broken it.

The florist grits his teeth harder still, whimpers, and awkwardly tries to cradle his now broken wrist. He swallows thickly at the misshapen sight of it and starts to feel woozy. He desperately tries to will away the cloudiness that starts nipping at the edges of his consciousness — he had never been good with pain and this time was clearly no different, if not worse, and now Jimin was almost certain that he was going to pass out.

Suddenly the door of the tattoo studio flies open and out rushes Yoongi with Jungkook hot on his heels.

The men rush down the stairs carefully and are on Jimin in a second, but the florist can barely register their presence. He’s able to hear Yoongi ask him if he’s okay, but it’s muffled and low. Jimin can’t respond, he can only gasp.

“Emergency services, what’s the location of your emergency?”

Jimin blinks up at Yoongi, his eyelids starting to feel heavy. He can see Yoongi barking his shop’s address into his cellphone, but everything is starting to feel much slower than normal. He vaguely registers Jungkook trying to help him sit up as rain pours down around them.

“Alright sir, and what seems to be the problem?”

Jimin realizes that Yoongi’s phone is on speaker as the blonde quickly begins assisting Jungkook.

“Hi, yeah, we need an ambulance. Fuck. His wrist is broken really badly. I think he slipped down the stairs? Fuuuuck, how long will it take?”

Jimin can hear the rising panic in Yoongi’s voice as his vision begins to blur around the edges.

“We have paramedics on route, sir. What is your relation to the injured?”

“My boyfriend.” Yoongi chokes out. “He’s my boyfriend. Shit, please just hurry, I think he’s passing out.”

“They’re on their way, sir. I need you to stay with him until they get there, okay?”

Jimin can feel Yoongi carefully pull him into his lap as he speaks, but he can’t hear what the other is saying anymore. It sounds too muffled and too far away, almost as if he were drowning thousands of feet underwater whereas Yoongi was somewhere safe on dry land.

He blinks one more time, one last in vain effort to try and stay conscious as Yoongi leans his upper body over him, shielding him from the rain and speaking more words that Jimin just can’t make out. He wishes he could stay present, hear Yoongi, assure him that he would be fine, but it was fruitless. He knew himself, and at this point there was nothing he could do to stop the darkness from enveloping him like a wet weighted blanket.

As Jimin finally lets himself succumb to blissful unconsciousness, his mind explodes into images of intricate and colourful floral patterns before everything fades away. The last thing he registers is the feeling of a gentle kiss being placed on his forehead as the wail of a far-off siren fights to slice its way through the thick summer storm.

#AHHH IM SO SCARED TO POST LOL #I’m doing this on mobile so I am hoping and praying it posts correctly #god I hope you guys like this #I’m so worried my writing may’ve suffered in my absence and just ufgggjdjssks #but what can you do #allergic!yoongi #bts whump #mine #bts sickfic #Tw injury #yoonmin #bts au #sorry that I made them fight LOL #bts snzfic #kind of if you squint heehee #bear with me I’ll update my fic masterpost when I get on my laptop later #bts snz

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oshisanbignaturals · 1 year

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my silly bee and puppycat x enstars au ☆

#enstars #ensemble stars #bee and puppycat #bapc #adonis otogari #kogaball #myart #God give me the strength to draw the rest of this au #bt #oldie

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mariegolddoesthings · 2 months

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Red Herring as Jin! Yippee! This version of the Red Herring is kind and surprisingly mature.

I had so much fun making this design since this doll isn't any way humanoid like the others. Fun fact: This design is solely based off one of my favorite outfits that I wear sometimes.

Alt:

#God I'm not used to drawing t-shirts anymore #usually when I draw a character it's always a long-sleeved top #oh well #the red herring tmp #tmp the red herring #tmp dolls #kim seokjin #jin bts #bts #tmp #tmp2 #trivia murder party #trivia murder party 2 #jackbox #jackbox games #jackbox au #i am very normal about jackbox

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bangtanagan · 6 months

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baby blue

jikook; background yoonjin modern magic au human!jk x witch!jimin 18k, rated T, complete When Jungkook rescues a kitten from behind the garbage bins one wet and windy autumnal morning, he's not expecting to fall in love with her—or the gorgeous, strange, a-little-bit-magic man who claims to be her owner.

Jungkook opens the door.

The hall is blinding after the dark of his room, and he squints and reflexively clutches the cat tighter, shielding her from the haloed man standing in the middle of his doorway with his fist still raised to knock.

Everything is fuzzy in the glare of the hall lights, and he can’t open his eyes all the way, so Jungkook sees him squinty and snapshot, a photo out of focus. There’s a perfect coif of hair, blond so light it’s nearly silver, and narrowed eyes and a distinctly scowly downturn of lips. The man is wearing something impractical for the season and the rain, shirt gauzy with a scrap of fabric halfway between a scarf and a tie draped around his neck. When Jungkook looks down, his boots are sharp-toed and dangerous. He drips silver, fingers and neck and wrists and ears all draped in thin, fine links of jewelry. He’s beautiful and looks very much like he should be at a club or a bar or an idol contest or pretty much anywhere that is not Jungkook’s potential-fire-hazard studio walkup.

Also, he’s holding what looks like a broomstick.

[read on ao3]

#jikook #jikook fic #bts fic #bts au #my fic #it took two years but it's done! thank god tbh

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lachimolala-is-love-and-life · 2 years

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The Love I Always Desired

Genre: Greek Mythology!Au, Greek God!Au, Fluff, Smut, Angst

Pairing: Eros!Jimin x Psiche!Reader

Words: 3347

Summery: Y/n, a beautiful girl who cannot find a husband, becomes the attraction of all the neighboring peoples who offer sacrifices and call her Venus (or Aphrodite). The deity, knowing the existence of Y/n, jealous of the usurped name, sends her son Jimin to make her fall in love with the ugliest and miserly man on Earth and be covered by the shame of this relationship, But the god makes a mistake, and the arrow of love strikes his own foot, and he falls madly in love with the girl.

Note: Part Two!

In an ancient Greek kingdom, at a time when the gods roamed among mortals, three beautiful young princesses lived protected within the walls of their palace. All three, in full mature age and envied for their breathtaking beauty. They were eager for a life partner and dreamed of what their husbands would look like.

"My husband will be a famous general and will court his strength through his conquests," boasted her older sister, fantasizing about a man in armor and mighty.

"My future husband will be a rich man and will give me precious silk clothes and the most beautiful jewels," said the second daughter, imagining herself among the riches given by a future lover.

Y/n smiled as she heard the words of the two older sisters. What they desired in a man were only characteristics of pure pride. She certainly was not against it, but she was looking for something else in a lover.

"and you Y/n? What will your husband be like?" asked the older sister with a certain superiority in her voice.

"Me? All I want is pure and true love. A love that makes me happy..."

"What a honeyed" laughed the two sisters, mocking her.

Y/n at her words felt a feeling of desire. She burned with the desire to find a person who loved her with all of herself and not forwhat was said around. She, as the youngest of the three sisters, was considered the most beautiful girl ever seen. So beautiful she attracted everyone's eyes, making her sisters especially jealous. Many people came from distant kingdoms, walking along long roads, only to admire the young princess.

"Here is to you the most beautiful creature that has ever set foot on earth" her father had introduced her to the population when she had reached the age of majority.

She was worshipped as a deity, so much so that the tributes that were once offered to Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty, were now for the princess.

Offended and enraged, the goddess watched from Olympus the court that followed the princess, while her temple was completely empty. Aphrodite could not stand that a mere mortal could usurp her throne, so she decided to take revenge on the girl.

"Jimin, come here" the young son of the goddess, embodiment of passion and love, hearing the enraged voice of his mother, immediately ran to her, abandoning every activity he was doing.

"Mother, were you looking for me?" asked the young god, a little intimidated by maternal anger.

"My son. This woman believes that she is on the same level as the deities and superior to your mother. I need you to punish her using the power of your arrows. Make her fall in love with the worst man on earth. Miserly, ugly and evil. I will destine her to a life of sadness and her beauty will be spoiled."

"Mother... aren't you exaggerating? It is not her fault that she was destined and honored to possess your beauty. Maybe we can do something else..."

Aphrodite's gaze turned black and struck her young son. Jimin was slumped on his skin in front of his anger and in a stuttering voice said, "Okay, Mother. As you wish."

And so, at nightfall, Jimin took flight and with inhuman speed and headed for the royal palace. The young god was amazed to admire the wonderful architecture and the preciousness of the materials with which it was built. He flew around him for quite a while and as soon as he spotted the young woman's room, he sneaked in stealthily.

It was deep night and Y/n was sleeping. Her body was covered with a light black silk suit that highlighted all her curves. Jimin approached the girl and was stunned by what was in front of her. It was just as the mother said. She really possessed an indescribable beauty and if his mother could read the thought to him, she would make him flog for thinking that he could surpass that of the goddess of beauty. Jimin was enchanted by how moonlight gently kissed her skin. It seemed soft and he resisted so as not to stretch out his hand and also feel the warmth. He let slip a faint sigh.

He could not be enchanted by a simple dead woman. He took the bow and arrows and prepared them to shoot the weapon, but as he was about to make the gesture, the young woman turned over in bed, slightly uncovering her breasts and causing Jimin to lose concentration for a few moments. A few moments that turned out to be fatal because he absent-mindedly let go of the arrow, accidentally hitting his foot.

Stung by the arrow, Jimi fell in love with Y/n as soon as he set his eyes on her. The mission had failed. The young cupid was now lost in his own spell. His heartbeat fast in his chest, but he fought against that feeling so as not to be abandoned to eros; therefore, before the power was brought to completion, he escaped from the window, but not before turning a last look at his beloved.

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The next day, Y/n woke up with a strange sensation enveloping his room, but everything seemed normal. Except for the window. Had he left it open the night before? She was sure she had closed it before Morpheus wrapped her in a deep sleep.

But something strange from that day was perceived by the princess. Time passed and although she was the most beautiful and the most beloved of her sisters, Y/n was still unmarried while her sisters had several suitors.

"Ah Y/n. You have always been adored by everyone and, despite this, you are not yet married. While we are happily married to the noblest of men." He kept reminding her of the sisters.

"Don't worry my daughter. Your beauty may be overwhelming to some men, but soon you will find a man worthy of your heart," her father told her a day after calling her to court, but in reality the king was seriously concerned about his daughter's situation. But no one knew that the lack of suitors was due to a single person. Jimin.

He was completely lost to the young princess and refused to awaken any kind of love for every man towards Y/n. After the blow of his arrow, he was now completely in love with her.

Then the king decided to go and pray to the oracle of Apollo, also known as Hoseok, in Delphi and inside he pronounced himself to the desperate king.

"Your daughter will marry a perverse winged being who delights in causing pain to mortals and gods. The princess will be left on the edge of a horrible precipice in a wedding dress and she will be handed over to this terrible creature that will cause her death. "

The king came out of the temple in tears and desperate for the fate of his daughter foretold by the sun god and to lose her forever. But Y/n's envious sisters convinced him to obey the god's words with phrases of the genre.

"You must obey the will of the gods or your choice to spare it, it will bring misfortune to our whole kingdom"

That night the king revealed the terrible fate to Y/n and she let herself be abandoned by pain and despair. "My beloved daughter, at the behest of the gods we will condemn you to a terrible end. Your beauty has now become a curse for our family." And that's how the next day Y/n was on the precipice from a wedding court, but the atmosphere felt more like a funeral.

Hearing her parents and close people crying for her, Y/n didn't hold back and turned to them.

"It is useless for you to weep for me at this time. Until yesterday you acclaimed me only for my appearance and to compare me to a goddess. Now let me face my fate" said this she approached the edge of the precipice, waiting for her future and horrible husband.

Then suddenly a strong breeze began to blow, lifting Y/n to the sky- This wind was Jungkook, also known as the god of the west wind and the god made her ascend to heaven and faced her fate.

The young woman was surrounded by a huge bufare of wind, preventing her from keeping her eyes open. But after a few minutes, everything became quieter, and Y/n opened her eyes again and what appeared in front of her seemed ethereal.

She was in an idyllic place. There were flowers everywhere and their scent enveloped the landscape. She sharpened her gaze and saw a wonderful white marble palace that stood out against the landscape. Y/n climbed the stairs to reach the entrance and was baffled by all the wealth that was inside.

Once inside the palace, Y/n heard a small voice but could not understand where it came from.

"My lady. Now everything she sees belongs to you and we will serve her for whatever her heart desires" Many voices surrounded her, but no one showed up.

"Oh, ma'am. We are invisible servants, but, despite this, she will be served and revered. We will keep her company until the arrival of the master. Now follow us please. We will accompany her to her rooms, after taking care of her."

"Thank you, you are very kind," replied Y/n and was pampered by his new servants. They helped her during the bath, during meals and sang harmonious melodies to her.

The sun went down, and Y/n was escorted to her bedroom. A four-poster double bed mastered the luxurious room. Y/n's heart was beating fast. She still did not know the face and name of the creature that would be her husband. Just thinking about it, a shiver ran through her body.

Before the servant left the room, he asked him a question.

"Before you go. I wanted to ask you something... How is your master? They say it's a monster..."

Although he did not see him, a small chuckle escaped the servant "Many talk about it like this, but in reality, he is not evil. How can you judge a monster a person you've never seen?" and having said that, the door opened wide and then closed soon after.

Y/n looked out onto the balcony and looked forward to her future partner. Night had fallen and the room had become dark. Sighing, Y/n walked away from the sight of that enchanted night and decided to sit on the bed, turning his back to the windows. Why all this waiting? Anxiety pervaded her.

After a few minutes, Y/n heard someone entering the room through the window. She felt the presence of her new husband and that he was slowly approaching her, until she heard him sitting on the bed behind her.

Y/n could feel his warm breath on his neck. He had his face right next to her, but she couldn't see it out of the corner of her eye. Y/n was tense and didn't know what was going to happen that night. Suddenly a pair of strong arms enveloped her from behind and her heart seemed to explode. Probably the young man felt her agitation and tenderly kissed her temple. His lips were soft against her skin and in something in her, she made her calm down and lean against the touch of her mysterious lover.

"Don't worry, my love. I will Never hurt your" his voice was warm, but sweet at the same time. It was quite different from what Y/n expected. She thought that from what her father had told him, her husband must have been horrible and cowardly, but from how he held her, he caressed her tenderly and with a candid voice... well... it had been a nice surprise.

Y/n turned to admire the face of her beloved but was disappointed to see that the darkness covered him completely. She put her hands on his face trying to study his features. Through his touch, he felt a soft skin and equally delicate features. Fleshy lips and a small nose.

"You... you are..."

" I'm Jimin and I'm your new husband. My love, I had been watching you for a long time and every day I fell in love more and more. I want you so much and I can't believe I have you in my arms right now. Y/n... you are beautiful..." Jimin said, gently stroking her face.

Y/n could not see the man in front of her well, but then why her heartbeat so hard after those words. Like a spell, she gently rested her lips on him, creating an indescribable passion. Jimin slowly stripped her, savoring the softness of her skin, and stroking every inch.

His hands could not move away from her breasts, kneading them slowly, putting a little strength, making her moan.

"These are the sounds I want to hear from you. They are mine and no one else will have to listen to them. Is that okay?" but Y/n was too lost in the young man's treatment not to give him an answer. He squeezed her breasts harder, making her moan again.

"Got it?" he asked again.

"Yes, Jimin. Only you" and he began to kiss her even more passionately. While Jimin was exploring the body of his beloved, Y/n untied the toga he was wearing and explored her body as well. Jimin was certainly not a tall man, but he could understand that he was mighty, and, despite this, he was treating her as if she were a delicate flower.

Suddenly he grabbed her and made her lie gently on the bed, and then put himself on top of her, inserting himself between her open legs. Y/n could feel Jimin's powerful length touching her private part and a desire for lust pervades her body, wanting to unite with the man above her.

Jimi lowered himself slightly to touch her lips once again," "Now I'm going to get inside you, my love. Have you ever been with a man... in intimacy?"

"No..." she whispered weakly. At the news Jimin smiled and kissed her lips again. He was completely dependent on them.

"Then it will be an honor to be your first and only, my love" and having said this Jimin penetrated her, and a faint moan of pain came out of the girl's lips, while her young lover slammed his hips against her. After a few minutes, the pain became pleasure and Y/n was guided by Jimin's movement and he began to increase the pace, not detaching his lips from the girl and his hands from her velvet skin.

Both were enjoying each other's arms, yielding to eros, to real lust. Passion enveloped their bodies. Y/n could feel that Jimin wanted their bodies to be as close as possible, especially when she could feel his member count inside her and his breathing become heavy. She didn't know him, she didn't know his face, but she could feel that love that she herself was looking for.

"My love, you're holding me too tight. I will come within you soon. will you let me do it?" but instead of words, she wrapped her legs, crossing them behind him and making him approach his body.

And immediately their groans melted, letting themselves be abandoned by the passion just reached. Jimin kissed her for the last time, and then made her alreadyrare and put himself to the side, wrapping in his arms and bringing her body closer to his, her back resting on his chest. And both fell asleep in the heat of one and the other.

The next morning, Y/n woke up and noticed that her husband had disappeared, leaving no trace. She had been a little disappointed because he had shown her extreme affection, but she had not been able to see his face because of the darkness of the past night.

Furious the day, Y/n spends to familiarize herself with the servants and luxuries of her new home, but she kept thinking about the young lover. He was not as he was described by people. He was not a monster. It was almost... divine.

The night came quickly, and Y/n was already waiting for the arrival of her husband and even that night passed with a sublime passion between the two lovers. And so it happened for many more nights, but still Y/n had not been able to glimpse the face of her husband. It seemed that he wanted to keep his appearance hidden. She had learned to love him deeply over time and didn't care if he was ugly or beautiful. She had fallen in love with everything he was...

Even that night, after another night of passion, Y/n couldn't resist and asked him," Jimin. My love. Why do you always hide in the shadows? My heart dies from the desire to see the face of my beloved"

The two were embraced and at her words, Jimin tightened his grip "But isn't the love we share enough?"

Y/n could feel the discomfort in Jimin's voice and apologized for offending him. She loved him and certainly didn't want to bother him.

"I ask you only one thing, my love. Don't try to look at me. In the darkness we are like equals and we will have to appreciate the feeling that is between us."

Y/n decided to consent to her husband's request. But time passed and curiosity was burning her. "Why was Jimin so afraid to be seen? If he believes in our love then he must not be afraid that I will leave him. Now I am his and I have given myself to him..." Y/n thought and so he decided to act that night.

Y/n waited for her husband to fall asleep. She got up, coming out of the embrace of her lover and decided to take a lamp and turn it on, grabbing a knife in the meantime. He slowly approached the bed and once she lit up his face, she was speechless.

Jimin was not a monster, he did not have a grotesque appearance, but rather of a wonderful and straight boy. He had a few pink tufts gently sliding down his face. Fleshy lips and perfect features. He was magnificent.

She slowly approached to contemplate her husband's face, but unfortunately, a drop of lamp oil fell and fell directly on Jimin's chest, causing him to wake up suddenly.

Jimi looked up and found himself in front of Y/n. His surprised look turned into pure anger.

"You're silly. A stupid one. What did I tell you? You probably thought I was a monster eh? And that dagger? You thought I was a monster and so you were ready to cut my throat? My love wasn't enough for you and that's how you reciprocate it?"

Jimin stood up and his anger was immense. Y/N fell to his knees in front of him, her face wet with tears.

"Please, my love. Forgive me. I was wrong but I can't lose you. I love you so much. Give me a chance to fix it..." But Jimin dressed in a hurry and came out of the balcony, opening his huge wings, ready to take flight.

"I asked you to make me a promise and you didn't keep it. Now you will never see me again. Goodbye"

And Jimin took flight. Y/n tried to stop him, jumping on him, but failed. She fell to the floor with a broken heart. Suddenly a wind enveloped her. It was again Jungkook, who had been asked by Jimin to bring Y/n back to his home. Among mortals.

Y/n woke up again on the precipice on which she had been abandoned, but did not decide to return home, but every day she went to pray at the temple of the goddess Aphrodite, asking to give her an opportunity to reunite with her beloved. But the goddess was silent, leaving the girl alone to crave her lost love.

Taglist: @gabriella-aesthetic

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flowerwrites06 · 2 years

Text

golden lotus I — kth

Plot: Refusing and underestimating a warning from Time can have its prices. One God pays the worst of it. Pairing(s): God!Taehyung x Goddess!OC (Name: Angel) Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+ Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series Word Count: 6.9k Genre: Romance Fantasy | Gods & Goddesses Tags & Warnings: sexual content, violence, jealousy, obsession (not from main couple), character death (temporary) Authors Note: I was reading through some old headcanons I answered on this account and it made me really happy how much people enjoyed this series. I know I tried to make it such a point to have this as an original story but reading this back, I love the characters made from the original and reading those headcanon just...really warmed my heart I don’t know how to explain it. Hope you like this surprise if you enjoyed the series and I appreciate you all so much, thank you for the support!

A great tragedy will befall your kingdom were not the words a ruler wanted to hear on a beautiful, calm morning in the throne room. Unfortunately that was the fate Taehyung had to deal with when he claimed rule over the Gods and world below them. Every week the God of Time, Tempus walked into the halls of the sky palace to tell him how the future looked and what he could do about it.

What could he do about it?

Nothing.

The trick was Tempus spewed all these predictions to the high status of Gods but never really told them exactly what to do when the time came. His knowledge simply was to be noted and they would wait for the inevitable.

However Taehyung personally liked one prediction he was given when his father was still on the throne. Flowers and the beauty of life will be granted in your arms one day. With her gentle companionship, you both will rule the kingdoms above, at the center and in the depths forever.

The Nature Mother sprouted a young goddess soon after the prediction occurred. When her naked body landed on the soils, there grew a beautiful field of golden bride blossoms. A sign of life, love and prosperity. Goddess of Creation.

Taehyung looked down at the gold band around his ring finger with a small smile gracing his lips.

The God of Time was accurate at times but this recent prediction seemed too far-fetched to be believable.

“What kind of great tragedy?” Taehyung humored Tempus for a few moments.

However the God was not pleased with the lack of seriousness in Taehyung’s expression. “If you trust those close to you far too blindly…darkness will fall upon your life and the fate of our kingdom.” Tempus announced, letting it echo in the deep brown walls of the palace back into the Great Protectors’ eardrums.

Taehyung flickered his eyes over to Jimin standing on the side of the throne room with a concerned expression on his face. “See, now you’ve worried my Inger.” He gestured towards the male. “Can you at least be specific? If the situation is truly dire then I can’t run on riddles.”

Tempus sighed, features hardening in exasperation. “I can only give you so much. Time is unpredictable even for a God.”

“Well then tell Time that I need a better explanation than that before I start interrogating the people I trust most.” Taehyung leaned forward on his throne. “It’s a very bold claim, Tempus. You must understand I can’t just act on it.” He tried to speak in a more reasonable tone for the God even though it didn’t look like he was convinced.

“Then tread carefully.” Tempus tightened his jaw. “That’s all I can say.” He turned on his heel, black feathered cloak trailing on the floor behind him as the Inger guards escorted him out of the throne room.

When the double doors thud close, Taehyung relaxed back against his throne with an exhausted sigh, rubbing his face to calm himself down.

“Don’t worry too much about him.” Jimin’s voice fluttered through the room, lightly breaking the tension as he walked up to the stairs closer to his throne. Wavy blue hair hovering over his left eye when he reached out to touch his shoulder. “He likes being dramatic sometimes.”

Taehyung sighed. “He’s always dramatic. But he’s also always right.”

“Not always.” He shook his head.

“How do you mean?”

“His predictions can be inaccurate. He predicted that you would rule the kingdoms above, at the center and in the depths. But Namjoon rules the depths.” Jimin smiled, squeezing his shoulder gently to provide more comfort. He hated it when people stressed his King out far too much, the way his lips curled downwards and his features hardened. “He said your father was going to die from your hand but he ended up jumping into the Underworld’s fire out of his own madness.”

“He really was fucking mad, wasn’t he?” Taehyung scoffed. Memories flooded of how he had to hide Angel from his fathers’ wandering ambitions for a year until he gained the satisfaction to see him burning in the Underworld. Even Gods cannot escape Death. He still remembered Namjoon’s eerie words haunting him a little to this day.

Jimin smiled in response, glancing around the throne room before looking back at him again. “I think we’re done with the meetings. Go rest, I’ll tidy everything up here for you.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but feel his body loosening into relaxation hearing his words. It felt nice to be able to relinquish himself for a moment and let someone else take care of things. There were moments at the back of his mind where he wished that moment could last longer to the point where he never had to enter this throne room again. But he knew his replacements were not exactly good for the world. Enslavement, blind devotion and some even suggested mass destruction to rebuild a more ‘perfect’ world. It was too risky. The second he flails his power away to someone else, he signs a death wish for all of humanity.

“Thank you, Jimin.” He sat up from the throne patting Jimin’s shoulder gently before making his way out of the throne room. His mind set on only one location.

“Tonitrua wept as he held his love, Niji in his arms. Stilled by the call of the Underworld Nymphs. He watched them carry her soul away…saw the tears rolling down her cheeks as she smiled. Then she vanished. Leaving the God holding a lifeless shell that used to be the woman he promised to marry.” Angel left a small silence with that solemn note watching the Ingar children with her bright eyes widened and jaw dropped. Eventually a smile tugged at her lips as she reached to brush one of the Ingars’ fringe so it wouldn’t tickle their eyes.

“The heavens cries rained down on the earth.” She waved her hand and a grey cloud formed over the children, lightning striking with rain rushing down. However the water only lightly sprinkled on them earning tiny, adorable laughter to spread through the group. “Tonitrua beat on his drum as loud as he could muster and it rippled across the skies.” At Angels’ words, a distant thud echoed in the makeshift storm she created, trying not to make it too loud for their sensitive ears. “He beat the drum all night long praying his love could hear him. The world could hear his grief and pray for his mercy not to shatter the skies.”

“Ton-tua is thunder!” One of the female Ingars squeaked causing Angel giggled.

“Tonitrua…and yes, he became the brewer of thunder.” The storm over the Ingar’s head now faded back into the beautiful day light of the palace gardens. “As the Titans ceased their grieving, the Nature Mother blessed the earth by kissing the Sun God Solis’ forehead. Together they formed colours…the very colours that manifest all the hues of our world.” With another wave of her hand, a burst of bright colours reflected around them, rainbow shining on their young skin.

Angel giggled seeing one of the infant Ingar’s screeching in excitement at the rainbow reflection on the mat they were sitting on.

“What happened to Tonitrua’s love?” Another older Ingar inquired.

“She would always follow him wherever he went.” Angel grinned. “Niji means rainbow.”

A series of light gasps and smiles spread across the group causing a warmth in her heart.

“Alright, children, let the Queen rest now.” One of the Ingar caretakers announced to the whole group guiding all the little children back to their homes while the infants were gently carried out.

Angel waved at the toddlers saying bye to her before removing the rainbow reflections. She rested back against the peach blossom tree bark with a sigh, letting the subtle sweet scent grace her nostrils and calm her body.

“Do I get a story too?”

The familiar deep, chocolate voice coaxed a smile to stretch across her pink tinted lips. Angel felt his soft fingers brush against her cheek when she looked up to find Taehyung looking down at her. She held onto his hand and placed a gentle kiss on his skin before he moved to sit down in front of her.

Taehyung sighed in relaxation being able to admire his wife’s face rather than any more complaining Gods who had far too much time on their hands.

“Maybe later. My throat aches.” Angel murmured. “You look tired.”

“Happens when you need to listen to every whiny complaint from people with powers beyond humans.” He shifted so his head could rest on her lap. Warmth seeped through his veins capturing her scent and filling his lungs with the ultimate comfort. It almost felt selfish how good he felt with her presence. Almost as if he didn’t deserve being so close to her.

Angel raked her fingers through his raven locks, caressing small circles on his forehead to soothe his exhaustion. “It’s lovely that you listen to them though.” She brought her other hand to trail down his nose to his lips.

Taehyung placed her fingers in between his twin flesh smirking at how she giggled. “I only listen because someone convinced me to be more attentive.”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?” She tapped his lips three times. “You’re the most loved Ruler of the Gods we know.”

“It was only possible with the most beautiful Goddess by my side.” Taehyung held her hand and kissed the inside of her palm. He lifted up again, placing his arm on each side of her body while she was pinned to the tree and took her lips against his own. A low hum emitted in his throat as one of his hands began sneaking up her long light pink dress.

“Ah, don’t.” Angel giggled into the kiss, lightly pushing his hand away despite the tingles that shot through her body when his warm fingers touched her skin.

“Come on, just a quick one.” Taehyung breathed out, sneaking his tongue between her teeth.

“Tae—” She chuckled pressing a hand against his chest. “There’s people here.”

The God managed to whine a little as he moved to nudge his nose on her jawline, taking in more of her scent so he could never forget. “Our bedroom then…” Taehyung cupped her cheek, gaze darkening as he forced himself not to pounce on her right there and then. “No one needs us right now.”

Angel bit down her bottom lip feeling a light tingle pooling between her legs. “We should be quick.” She whispered. “Before someone sees us.”

The absolute best parts of his day and night. Taehyung would give up all his nights’ sleep just to be perched between Angel’s legs, her warm sodden walls hugging his stiff length as he moved in and out of her. Palms pressed against the back of her thighs, so deliciously thick that his whole hand couldn’t reach the width.

Long auburn hair matted to her temples, the flowers in her hair still stuck to her strands as they splayed out on the pillow. Smudged pink lips parting to spew the most beautiful moans as Taehyung stretched her out, thrusting in so deep his tip hit the soft walls of her cervix. Glazed eyes fixated on his as a smile graced her features.

Taehyung hooked her thighs over his arm, increasing his pace with a grunt in his throat. Her walls fluttered at the constant impact, the sound of skin slapping echoing across the grand chambers mixing in with Angel’s shaky moans.

“I-I love you..” She whispered, watching him through hooded lids.

His body loosened and tingled at her words. Taehyung let go of her thighs, leaning in closer as his elbows rested on each side of her body, hips grinding against her. He gripped at her soft hair, sweat glazed forehead against hers. “I love you too…” He breathed out.

The coil tightening in her lower belly reached uncontrollable heights giving him a tender kiss. Heat burst through her body erupting a choked cry of pleasure from her as she wrapped her legs around his waist tightly. Arms hooked under his shoulders as the shots of pleasure overwhelmed her trembling body.

“That’s it.” Taehyung whispered in her ear, feeling a tightness in his own belly as her walls clenched and pulsed around his member. “My sweetheart.” He pulled out of Angel almost completely before thrusting back into her until every inch disappeared inside her heat. “My precious.” The tightness sprung as he spilled inside his love, hips stilling and a light moan under his breath.

Angel hummed in delight feeling his warm release spilling deep inside her. She lazily smiled down as her heat swallowed him in further as her hand moved to caress her fullness. “Feel better?”

Taehyung chuckled breathlessly, kissing her hungrily. “So much better.” Pulling out of her carefully, he dropped next to her with his chest still rising and falling.

Once the couple calmed their relentless heaving, Angel turned to Taehyung with a question playing on her mind. “I noticed Tempus was on the list of your advising. What did he want to talk about?” She brought the wet cloth from the night stand cleaned off the excess between her legs gently, tiny flowers falling down from her curls.

The God replied with a scoff mindlessly playing with her hair. “What he always wants to talk about. Today he said something about a great darkness befalling our kingdom.”

Angel blinked slowly looking over her shoulder. She moved to face him now cleaning him off carefully before placing it back on the night stand. “He’s never said that before.”

“He’s said a lot of things.”

“Did he specify anything?” Angel propped herself on her elbow while her fingers traced his left breast.

Taehyung shrugged nonchalantly avoiding her gaze knowing he would find concern in them anyway. “Something about not trusting people too blindly.”

“It’s not a far fetched prophecy.”

“It’s incredibly vague, I can’t act on it.”

“But—” She stammered. “I don’t think you should ignore it either.”

“Worse comes to worse, Jungkook probably wants to overthrow me.” Taehyung gave a mocking scoff to the thought. God of Indulgence always loved spewing the idea of claiming the throne and ruling the worlds better than he or his father ever could. “There’s always going to be enemies and darkness trying to taunt our kingdom. I can’t get paranoid.”

“You also can’t be far too loose either.”

“I am not loose. I just think it’s silly to act on vague prophecies.”

“Tempus’ prophecies have always come true, Taehyung.”

“And what good has happened when I listened to those prophecies, hm?” It was an impulsive choice of words. Taehyung knew there was one prediction that brought so much good in this world, in his world. Though his words had already reached her ears and seeped into her mind before he could catch them back.

“I suppose not.” Angel rested back against the pillow ignoring the light squeeze in her chest. “But they do come true.” She sighed.

“It’s my decision to make whether I will demonize the ones I trust most.” Taehyung gulped down. “My decision alone.”

Angel smiled faintly before nodding. “Of course.”

Taehyung tried to take a breath to say something else. To reassure her that Tempus was right about one thing. But somehow it felt the moment passed and his tongue clipped hoping it wouldn’t cause a bigger problem between them. So he turned on his side, back facing the woman as he felt a tightness in the middle of his ribcages.

Biting down her bottom lip watching him face away from her, she leaned in and kissed his glistening shoulder causing Taehyung’s heart to drop. Angel turned on her side leaving the room in a slightly tense silence mixing in with their previous act of intimacy.

A gloomy, grey afternoon set upon the center world as Taehyung walked to the throne room for his usual routine of listening to troubles that were far too miniscule for him to take seriously. Except one still lingered on his mind. Eyes wandered across the halls of the palace just in front of the throne room and he stopped at one figure.

The couple had not properly spoken about yesterday but it seemed the tension had passed by morning. He saw Angel look over her shoulder and catch his gaze. His heart fluttered seeing a smile directed his way which he returned. Perhaps a silent way to reassure one another that all was well even though he could feel Tonitrua’s drum beating under his feet.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Jungkook’s enamored voice broke through his thoughts.

“Watch it.” He seethed.

“Fuck you.” The younger male walked past him to enter the throne room first.

Taehyung sighed sadly seeing Angel walk away with the Goddess of Souls, Belle following her into the palace gardens. He moved into the dark throne room then as the guards closed it behind him. “What’re you doing here anyway?”

Jungkook had raven hair just like him, shorter just under his brow and parted. His eyes shone a shade of amber and hazel mixed together that Taehyung could never decipher nor bother to ask. He always had a permanent smirk on his face like he was ready to kill or have sex with anyone in sight. “Thought I might accompany you with the advising. Jimin said he was sick so he asked me.”

“The man who wants to enslave humankind does a favor for an Ingar.” Taehyung scoffed making his way to his throne. “Is Namjoon playing illusions on me?”

“Jimin is nice. Who knows if I keep doing favors he might just swear loyalty to me one day?” There was that smirk again. The one Jungkook showed whenever he could tell he stroke a nerve with Taehyung.

“I should’ve let Seokjin drown you.”

“Your brother couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Not a fly, no.” Taehyung shook his head, relaxing on the throne with a light sigh. “You? Probably.”

Jungkook chuckled walking up the stairs to stand by his side. “Your brothers love me. Possibly more than they love you.”

“Namjoon dotes on you but the minute I tell him you were flirting with Minnie, you’re done for.”

“Aw, look at you keeping secrets for me.”

“It’s not for you, dumbass. Angel told me to keep it a secret so Namjoon won’t kill you.”

“Thank Mother for Angel then.”

Taehyung felt anger seep through his veins hearing how he spewed those words. Of course Jungkook couldn’t help it. It was in his nature to sound like he was constantly satisfied or satisfying someone. That didn’t mean Taehyung could control his annoyance whenever he spoke her name. “Let’s get this over with.”

As usual an eternity passed hearing all the troubles. Except the God of Envy was going to be punished for trying to threaten a Water Nymph for rejecting him which Taehyung found immense pleasure in. The one good thing about having Jungkook here was his harsh jabs at anyone who were whining far too much for their own credibility. Something Taehyung couldn’t do without someone trying to claim his throne.

Tonitrua’s kept beating his drum harder and harder almost making the ground shake underneath them. Rain beating down the earth, winds screaming for dear life as even the heavens felt a chill through its core.

“Didn’t know a storm was happening.” Jungkook murmured.

He tapped the arm of the chair, the slight tinge of confusion at the back of his mind. They would always warn us of a storm. “Maybe the Titans are in a mood.”

Before they could think on it further, the double doors on the side opened with a deafening thud causing both Gods to jump a little.

Taehyung tried to face the intrusion with an angry expression before his face quickly softened seeing Belle. Her cheeks stained in tears and usually bright features contorted into one of immense pain. His stomach dropped seeing the patches of red on her white dress. “What—”

“A-Angel—” Belle sobbed, gesturing with her trembling finger to the side.

Something cracked inside his chest hearing the name utter from her lips. All the thoughts in his mind emptied to a blank slate except for that one face. The one face that always made him happy when he looked at her. Taehyung pushed off his throne almost making it stumble back while Jungkook was already sprinting towards Belle as they rushed to the palace gardens. Dread filling his gut as he questioned where the blood was from.

The garden was empty for the first time. Not its usual bright state. No rainbows or children laughing, even the trees branches didn’t face upwards while the leaves kept falling like the rain in the center world. Taehyungs’ heart raced against his ribcages watching Belle run towards the tree. Her favourite peach blossom tree now almost emptied with its flowers. All of them withered on the ground.

Jungkook walked in front of him, pausing in his tracks as they reached the tree before meeting his gaze. Not a single smirk in sight. Hazel eyes turned deep and murky as he tried to hide the view from him while Belle quietly sobbed behind him. “Tae, don’t.”

Taehyung tightened his jaw. “I need to see.”

“No—” He lightly groaned as the God slammed his shoulder against his to push past him.

He wished. He wished so badly to have Jungkook blocking his view again. The cracking in his chest now completely shattered as he saw her beautiful baby blue dress ripped with deep cuts, blood staining the colour to a horrid dirty violet. Bruises on her down her arm, the golden band around her ring finger stained with a reddish tinge. And her face. If he could ignore the purpling marks on her cheek and the cut on her lip, it could almost look like she was sleeping soundly. Even the flowers in her hair lost all its’ colour and vibrance, withered and lifeless.

Knees losing all its power, Taehyung dropped on the ground next to her shrugging off his cloak and draping over her body. Tears burned at his eyes, his body losing all of its usual composure. All he could do was brush away the hair on her face with his trembling fingers and cup her cooling cheek. Gently he sniffled, lifting her up a little so he could rest on his lap. Just like he rested on hers only a day ago.

How could something end so quickly? In a flick of a finger, his whole world could come crashing down before it lays still on his weak arms.

A quick gust of wind passed through the group and dread filled him to the brim.

“Brother…” Namjoon’s deep voice echoed through the darkening garden. Footsteps crunched against the dried leaves and withered flowers until he stood next to Taehyung, gripping the love of his life with all he could.

The King of the Underworld never visited every single death but when he felt this one…he knew he had to be here. Though a part of him wasn’t prepared to see his younger brother in a state of complete and utter vulnerability, tears trailing down his pained face as he hugged his stilled wife in his arms.

He hesitated for a moment but eventually softened, reaching his hand out and brushing through Taehyung’s hair as a form of comfort. His own silver locks covering his eyes to hide how deeply he could feel her loss. “I’m sorry.”

“Do—” Taehyung let out a trembling sigh, fresh tears at the brim of his eyes. “Do you know who did it?”

Belle shook her head, wincing as another feeling pooled in her gut. Pure guilt. “I just l-left for a w-while…she—was h-hungry…” She wrapped her arms around herself tightly almost curling up into the ball as her shoulder shook with her sobs.

“We’ll find out.” Jungkook’s tone rung dark and furious as he padded closer to Belle, squeezing her shoulder gently.

“Taehyung…God’s souls work differently from humans.” Namjoon attempted to explain in the most gentle way possible. “I can keep her safe for now but she will inevitably—”

“Disappear…I know.” Taehyung swallowed down the lump in his throat, stifling the sob that tried to pass through him again. “I know.”

Namjoon sighed in slight defeat, wishing there were some way to console his brother but no consolation could bring his love back. Death was a battle everyone lost. “I’ll make a garden for her.” It was the only thing he could think of. Perhaps knowing her soul would rest in her favourite place could bring some comfort.

Taehyung nodded even though his grasp didn’t falter as if some desperate part of him wanted to keep her here and hope hard enough that she would wake up. I didn’t even say anything to her today. He closed his eyes freely letting more tears roll down as Namjoon moved to hook his arms under Angels’ neck and knees, lifting her up from the ground.

Another cool gust of wind and the God found his arms empty save for a few red splotches on his arm. Taehyung curled them into fists, tight as his nails dug into his skin and the blood seeped through his fingers.

“Taehyung…” Jungkook called in a tender voice for the first time.

“Leave me. Both of you.” His head was lowered, raven fringe covering his reddened eyes as he stared at his hands. The blood of his love staining his skin reminding him that this was his doing. His stupidity. Someone came in here to hurt her. Darkness was going to befall your kingdom. Tempus was right and he ignored it. Your fault. This is all your fault.

Jungkook let out a defeated sigh, holding onto both of Belle’s shoulders and gently leading her out of the autumnal gardens. It was not right leaving Taehyung with his thoughts but arguing with him would be just as troubling. With a heavy heart they disappeared back into the palace while the Great Protector now sat under his wife’s favourite tree with her blood on his hands.

Your fault. All your fault. Taehyung wanted to say it out loud. He tried. When he did, the only thing that came out were screams. Shrieks of agony, breaking his throat and tightening his chest, palms pressed against the earth begging for the Nature Mother to bring her back. He imagined golden bride blossoms growing around him with his love being born again. Bring her back! Bring her back! I’ll do better!

Nothing happened. The garden still mourned in its autumn. Taehyung was all alone.

Centuries passed since his heart emptied. Mindlessly pacing around the throne room with no one entering with their complaints anymore. They were too frightened. Too frightened to see their fool of a King cut them down where they stood if their complaints were far too menial.

Heavens were still waiting for a new God of Time after the last one’s body was thrown into the Underworld fires. One should be reborn instantly but no one had ever destroyed the over-looker of Time itself so early in their life. Perhaps there was a new Tempus somewhere but they were too afraid of Taehyung to step forward.

He didn’t care though. He just kept pacing around the room ignoring Jimin’s gaze following him wherever his feet moved him. Calves ached terribly but Taehyung kept moving. Moving so his mind could be occupied. Moving so the thoughts don’t come rushing in. Moving so he doesn’t stop to remember her smile again.

Jimin tried to take a breath to say something that could soothe his beloved King but all his words died on his tongue. Everyone had to be so careful around Taehyung nowadays to ensure they didn’t strike a nerve. And his nerves were far too vulnerable even after all these years.

The double doors thud open and a tinge of anxiety rushed through his belly. Every time he heard that door, he saw Belle crying. Pointing him to his worst nightmare.

Gulping down, Taehyung flickered his gaze over to the visitors. Much to his concern, he found Belle with Jungkook following close behind almost like a bodyguard. “What do you want?”

“She’s just here to help.” Jungkook spoke in a hardened voice.

So he was a bodyguard.

“Why would I need her help?” Taehyung seethed, shooting a glare at the Goddess. He could notice the gloominess in her aura even though her features were as bright as ever.

The curse of never having the same adverse effects as humans. No one could ever tell where Gods were having a terrible time.

“Careful.” Jungkook warned, irises fading to an angry amber as he narrowed his gaze.

“Or what?” The King stepped forward almost bumping into Belle. “If she had just stayed at the garden a little longer instead of fleeting about her own stupid business—”

“Taehyung…” Jimin tried to get him back to his senses with a calm voice but it already tugged at Jungkook’s last nerve.

The younger god pounced at the Ruler with a grunt, grabbing onto his collars while Belle was pushed aside. God of Indulgence swung a fist across the Great Protectors’ face. “It’s not her fault! You fucking fool!” Jungkook’s growls boomed across the halls, reminding them that he was almost Ruler as well if Taehyung were not equally persistent.

Jimin noticed Belle immediately sobbing as she curled into herself, struggling to breathe deeply.

“I found her!” Belle cried out. Her heartbreaking voice echoing in the room and reverberating in Taehyung’s ears.

Both gods paused in their actions looking over at the saddened Goddess. Taehyung’s grip on Jungkook immediately loosening as he looked at Belle with widened eyes and parted lips. “You—w-where?”

Belle sniffled and joined her shaky hands together. When she spread them apart, an orb formed, floating in between her palms. Through the orb they could see luscious green mountains covered almost entirely with mist, blurring into a house, old design almost a little imperfect but full of healthy gardens. “She lives in the mountains and runs a farm.”

Jungkook finally let go of Taehyung giving him a soft glare before walking over next to Belle.

Taehyung watched the vision of present day in the small orb as it moved from the gardens to a pair of feet walking down some green patches. Behind the legs was a tawny puppy and a lamb bouncing as they followed. His heart raced so fast against his ribcage, he was almost surprised it was still there.

It jumped to his throat when Belle showed her face.

He let out a weak chuckle, tears glimmering in his eyes, watching Angel crouch down near the patch and grab some leaves from the patch with a small smile on her face. “I-It’s her.” Taehyung reached his hand out a little almost as if he could touch her but he quickly retracted a little, hovering his palms over the vision of her face.

“It is. Except her memories are not fully intact. Reincarnated Gods get extremely fuzzy memory and usually don’t know where they came from. They will generally say they’re an orphan who only remembers living alone all their life.” Belle explained even though her voice was a little meek and exhausted.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning she needs to get her memories back and bond to you. That’s the only she can reach her full form and return to the Heavens.” She shook her head slowly. “Otherwise she’ll have to stay like this forever.”

Taehyung finally took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, trying to understand Belle’s words before nodding. “Alright.” Soft eyes looked over at the young Goddess and his stomach dropped. “I’m sorry…she was your friend too.” He attempted a smile. “Thank you for finding her.”

“It’s okay.” Belle smiled so beautifully even though her eyes were still glazed with tears. “Just bring her home.” She gently closed her hands again to dissipate the orb.

He had the urge to reach out but he put his hands back to himself before anyone could notice. “You’ll take care of the Heavens for me?” Taehyung’s gaze flickered up to Jimin ignoring Jungkook’s light scoff.

“You really don’t trust me that much?” Jungkook seethed before Belle touched his arm.

“Jimin will take care of matters in the throne room while you keep an eye on the center world.” She spoke to the God softly although most of them knew it didn’t take much for Jungkook to be swayed by the Goddess.

Jungkook sighed in slight defeat. “Alright.”

“With all my heart, Master.” Jimin bowed until his head could reach his toes before moving up to give him a faint smile. “The Heavens will be in safe hands.”

“An Ingar running the Heavens…talk about darkness befalling your kingdom.” Jungkook mumbled in annoyance.

Belle pressed on the God’s chest to gently guide him out of the throne room. “I think it’s time to go.” She quickly looked over her shoulder. “Make sure to be gentle on her, don’t try to drop everything in one day. She’s asked for help on the farm in the nearby villages so start there.”

Taehyung let every word burrow into his mind before Jungkook and Belle disappeared out of the throne room. He wasn’t going to ruin this again. Never again. “You’re going to be okay?” He smiled at Jimin.

Jimin giggled nervously before nodding. “I’ll try my best, Master. Good luck.” His expression as he saw the Great Protector take a breath and vanish down to the center world.

Once the throne room was empty, his smile disappeared and a darkness fell over his usually glimmering eyes. Breathing heavy and a little rapid as he stomped over to the table filled with an array of ambrosia. A blood-curdling scream vibrating in his throat, arms swept across the surface. Glass shattered on the ground pricking at his skin but it didn’t hurt him nearly as much as seeing his beloved Master run back to the Goddess who never deserved him.

He heard the doors open again, heart pounding against his ribcages expecting Jungkook but thankfully Hoseok’s head peeked through. Jimin sighed deeply leaning against the edge of the table. “He’s gone to get her back.”

Hoseok, another Ingar, carefully padded into the throne room eyeing the glass splinters on Jimin’s forearm and rushing over to him. “Shouldn’t that be good news? Why—why are you so angry?” He tried to reach out for the injuries but Jimin walked away from him towards the throne.

“That wasn’t the plan, Hoseok!” Jimin growled, wincing as tears burned in his eyes. “He—he was supposed to forget about her…I waited…I waited so fucking long for him to forget.” Shaky fingers curled up into tight fists as he allowed the pain from his splinters to sting from remnants of alcohol. “I worked so hard to be the best for him. To do what was best for him and he just—” He waved his hand harshly. “—runs away without even thinking about me.”

“She’s his wife.” Hoseok tilted his head in confusion. “Of course, he’ll go get her if he knew his love was alive and waiting for him.” A ghost of a smile graced his lips, admiring how dedicated Taehyung had been all these centuries when he could have taken any Goddess or God under his arm.

“She’s not his love!” Jimin cried beyond his throat’s capability, making it ache and crackle. “He’s supposed to be here…with me.” He whispered. “I worked so hard.”

Hoseok examined the Ingar with a hesitant expression, worried what he was finding in the way Jimin held himself and the words spewing from his mouth. “Jimin…what do you mean when say you worked so hard?” He took a step forward when he really wanted to exit the room completely. “You mean you just helped him, right? Nothing else?”

“I loved him. I still love him.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Jimin’s reddened, teary eyes flickered to meet the older Ingars’ gaze. Pain may have spread across his look but there was something behind it that Hoseok wished he didn’t find. “I did what was best for him.” He muttered, nodding to himself. Convincing his conscious that his actions were for the good of his Master. “Taehyung doesn’t know what’s good for him yet.” He smiled softly except there was no brightness in his eyes. “He’ll know soon.”

Village of Sericum adorned the finest collection of silk and the most luscious crops known across the country side. Most of them were supplied by a mysterious farmer hiding out in the mountains. For some odd reason, her harvests were always the most full and fresh. Her fruits were the juiciest, flowers were the most vibrant and her vegetables were absolutely delicious. At least that was all Taehyung got from asking the villagers.

Angel had created somewhat of a reputation but apparently for the most part, she stayed right up in her simple home in the mountains by her lonesome. A few farmers were surprised to see such a young farmer have so much knowledge and experience on nature. Taehyung couldn’t help but smile. Even centuries later in a new form, Angel stuck to the place she loved most, surrounded by nature and animals while blossoms scented the air.

One of the farmers was kind enough to let Taehyung ride on his cart up to the mountains after he stated his business. The mystery farmer needed someone to give her a hand around the farm for a few weeks while harvests were getting really busy.

Up the mountains they rode until they reached the beautiful light wooden gates that led into Angel’s home. His heart hammered so hard in his chest, Taehyung was worried he might faint out of his nervousness. What if her human form didn’t like him? When she was born as a Goddess, they were fated to be together. Even though their love was genuine, it was already written to be in the future. Now it was different. There was no Tempus to tell him that this was the right thing or the wrong to do. It was just him deep diving into a chapter of his life where he was weakened of his powers and blind with love.

Giving his thanks to the farmer, Taehyung padded towards the wooden gates few higher than him and almost impossible to climb over it which made sense considering she was alone here with no security. The air brushed sharp and cold around him as mist slowly thickened on the mountain range creating a calm, eerie atmosphere.

Finally he knocked on the wooden gate as loud as he could to ensure the sound echoed.

Pitter patter of footsteps sounded on the other side causing a jolt in Taehyung’s belly. A smile spread across his face when he heard her voice.

“Back, Solar.” Angel murmured which earned a whine for something much smaller.

Then the door opened with a light creak revealing her. Auburn hair braided back, purple coat over her with she held two sticks with broken sharp ends.

“Oh—I-I come in peace.” Taehyung raised his hands up in defense.

Angel looked at him in confusion before looking down at the sticks and gasping lightly. “Sorry.” She chuckled, dropping them to the side. “Can I help you?”

“I—uh—” A light smile stretched on his lips as he tried to swallowed the lump in his throat. It was so tempting to just embrace her after so long, hold her and apologize. Tell her to come back home so they could be together again. Fate wanted to play cruel games though. To pay for his own mistakes. “Sorry, I was here for the—the help you wanted.”

“Help—oh!” Angel chuckled. “Of course, come in.” She opened the door a little further keeping a leg in front of the tiny, tawny puppy so it didn’t escape. “Don’t mind Solar, he gets a little excited.”

Taehyung wondered why she had to warn him before the tiny animal sprinted between his legs, circling around one of them and barking as loud as he could muster. Even though it merely sounded like a squeak. He couldn’t help but laugh at how excited the creature looked as they were led through another wooden gate possibly made for extra security.

Once inside the yard, his eyes were graced with vibrance and the fresh scent of flowers. Roses amongst others bordering the yard with trees adorning mangos, lemons and apples. Pineapple and pumpkin patches as they led up to the beautifully imperfect house.

“I’ll get you some snacks and some water.” Angel chirped joyfully, prancing so she could stand in front of him. “And uh—” She scratched her head lightly. “Could you…grab the mangoes for me?” A shy chuckle emitted under her breath pointing at the incredibly ripe mangoes hanging from the very top of the tree. “I broke the stick trying to get it.”

“Of course.” Anything you want. Taehyung cleared his throat gently before looking up at the ripe mangoes again.

Angel turned on her heel remembering to get some of the fresh picked cherries for him as well before the realization hit her. “Oh!” She quickly tuned around again. “What’s your name?”

There was light twinge in his chest hearing that extremely familiar voice ask him the question. But he pushed it aside smiling faintly at the beauty. “Taehyung.”

“Taehyung.” She repeated in a soft tone and a gorgeously bright smile. “I’m Angel.” For a few moments, the girl played with her fingers shyly as if wanting to say more before turning back on her heel again and walking to the house.

Centuries passed since his heart was emptied. Centuries. But it only took a few seconds of seeing her smile and hearing her voice for him to fall deeply in love with her again.

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#taehyung #thebtswritersclub #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #taehyung fanfiction #god taehyung #bts god au #god and goddesses au #god au #taehyung god au #tw: smut #tw: violence

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diviii3 · 2 years

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🌕 god Jimin x ☀️ god Jungkook

Inspired by this fic

#jikook au #jikook fanfiction #jikook fanart #jikook #kookmin #jungkook #jimin #fanart #bts #art #bts fanart #jungkook fanart #sun god #moon god #gods and goddesses

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roadratkid · 4 months

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LIS before the storm au tempest scene!!

Also came up with Radio Blackout as the name for the au

(I feel very indifferent about this one lol)

#fanart #digital art #adventure time #fiona and cake #prismo #prismo the wishmaster #scrabby #prohibitedwish #prohibitedwish au #scarab the god auditor #prismo x scarab #life is strange #lis bts #lis before the storm #before the storm #tempest

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maiverie · 11 months

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THATS NOT EVEN BAD FR. MY WRITING AT 13 YEARS OLD WAS INSANE!!!! THOSE BAD BOY ALPHA JUNGKOOK FICS DIDNT PLAY.

HAJDJWJSJA SHIT THE FUCK UP ITS SO BAD R U KIDDING ME 😭😭😭😭😭

#YOU LITTLE FUCKING CRAP!!!#ALSO STOPPP BTS ALPHA FICS IM 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#oh god #what i would give again to see the wolf au exo fics again 💔💔💔💔💔#SHOW ME PLS ANON #ask #@ : anon ♡︎

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honey-boyyoongi · 10 months

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Y’all Ao3 is down can someone recommend some fics?

#bts #bts imagines #bts fics #yoongi #bts non idol au #bts social media au #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts greek gods au #werewolf bts #bts supernatural au #chubby reader x bts

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mirahuyooo · 2 years

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Here Comes the Sun | jhs

Here Comes the Sun

— Life's been fantastic with Jung Hoseok in it, and you wouldn't want it any other way.

Word Count: 7,756 Content/s: established relationship, ANGST, ruh roh the world found out about you two, y/n spirals and shuts down poor girl, flashbacks of vaguely historical times, Hoseok being the sweetest, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Soulmate AU, Reincarnation AU Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader

[masterlist] | Part of the [Recordatio Series] ; [Hello, Sunshine]

A/N: THIS WAS MEANT TO BE A 2 YEAR ANNIV SPECIAL FOR HELLO, SUNSHINE BUT I GOT WRITER'S BLOCK LOL it's stil July tho so… yay??? “Hello, Sunshine” started all of this and yet it only has 3.7k words (compared to 10k+ on Jin and Joon's) I thought to make a drabble!! But… that drabble turned into this ABOMINATION WHSGDGHS i hope y'all enjoy!!

P.S. >>> Please Read Hello Sunshine first! <<<

Life's been fantastic with Jung Hoseok in it, and you wouldn't want it any other way. Truly, technology is a great tool to have—one to greatly use to your advantage, and that was exactly what the two of you did.

Ever since LoveBook, the two of you have kept a relatively long distance relationship, visiting one another once both your schedules allowed it. It was a relationship laced with making due with video calls, messages, and other online services to make up for the loss of time and chance of being with one another more often.

Alas, technology is also a double-edged sword, for even as you have used it to cut down the walls that separate you and your other half, the possibility of it being used to slain you exists. You come to know this as one morning, your peace and quiet was utterly shattered by your phone going off repeatedly like a child crying desperately for attention and you were its mama.

It was supposed to be a day like any other. You were supposed to wake up with a good morning text or call from your other half, get ready for the day, plough through your to-do list, and end the night with a video call if Hoseok was available for it. It was supposed to be a good day—not that you think you won't have any bad days either, but this?

This is beyond any of your expectations.

The screen displays your face among a group—one that a friend of Jiwoo's took while you were all out together at a restaurant for lunch. It wasn't your best picture—your outfit serving averagely, and your face marred with traces of exhaustion from jet lag—but it's a good memory nonetheless.

You had just landed then in Seoul and because he was too busy to meet you out right, Hoseok had to leave you under his older sister's guidance for the first three days. It brings a smile to your face remembering how nervous you were, and how that nervousness melted away when Jiwoo and her friend welcomed you warmly, showing you around their favorite spots in Seoul.

How unfortunate that a capture of that precious time was used in a gossip article.

BTS' J-Hope found his other half?!

Love is in the air, folks! One of the world's biggest boy bands surely knows that very well ;)

Jung Hoseok, known as J-Hope of BTS, is finally off the market after meeting his soulmate late last year through LoveBook. The alleged other half of the superstar is someone who might be a familiar face to some of y—

"How the fuck…" you gasped in horror, the world stopping for a moment as you struggled to find your breath. No, no, no.

Your laptop screen displays the abomination that ruined your peaceful morning, and a slightly blurred, subpar photo of you and Hoseok eating at a restaurant is clipped beneath it. It was your first official date after your very first meeting in real life—a special moment now out for the world to see.

Back then, most had chalked it up to you being a staff member, but seeing as how they've also attached pictures of you among the staff, their stages, and even a picture of you and Jiwoo going to karaoke together, you know your presence was too much to be mere coincidence. Though most of the pictures were of low quality, all these moments—genuine and personal—have now been dug up to reveal the entangled web that entraps you and Hoseok together.

The article left out anything on your identity, but you know the fire had already done its damage. The internet people, who can put detectives to shame and do it for free, had already gotten to the very bottom of it in no time—what with how much your phone is going through a seizure.

You feel vulnerable—violated, to some extent.

How did they know?

Who told the media about this?

What the fuck do they want from you?

The rest of the article goes on to speculate about the rest of the members possibly having found their soulmates, too, since one member has likely managed to hide it for about a year. They list the most likely candidates of the bunch with Namjoon and Taehyung being on top for recently displaying 'wholesome, lovestruck vibes', and also didn't miss the chance to drag in Seokjin's recent lawsuit.

They struck gold in some places, but what the fuck.

At this point, you were fuming at the sheer audacity this site has poking their business to where they don't belong. This wasn't how you and Hoseok planned to reveal your relationship—hell, you haven't even finished planning about it just yet!

yoongimarryhobi: she's not who I imagined her to look like tbh

borahae_0613: this is fake, obviously!! delete this

polemeuptaetae: idk yall,, this has to be fake or sumn 🤨

The comments of netizens under the article ranged from disbelief, doubt, and dismay. You're not sure whether you'd feel relieved that they don't believe it or hurt that they don't see you as someone who could be a soulmate to Jung Hoseok. (Then again, you're too overwhelmed as of the moment to fully comprehend the messy pot of emotions in you anyway.)

As your eyes stung from both the situation and exhaustion, you try to ease yourself by working on your breathing. You supposed you really should've taken the lack of good morning wishes from your soulmate as a bad omen.

Next to you, your phone remains spasming. You could barely open it earlier with just how many strangers and nosy people were bombing your social media accounts with message of all sorts. You've set your notifications off, but now it was your nosy relatives and colleagues that were sending you messages of gossip. Had it not been for the fact that you were waiting for a message from Hoseok, you would've shut your phone down already.

Has he heard the news?

Did he wake up shaken, too?

What are we gonna do no—

The phone ringing knocks you out of your stupor, and, for a moment, you dread to think that it was one of your aunts or cousins ready to talk your ear off of it. Thank heavens the screen showed a name you were greatly anticipating.

You waste not a single moment in answering.

"Are you alright, Hobi?"

"Sunshine, is everything alright?"

The urgency makes both of your words clash over one another. You hear Hosrok sigh on the other end of the line, and you seize the moment of silence to take a deep breath, the notion making you sniffle before you can remind yourself to mask it away. He easily hears this and grows even more concerned. "How are you?" he softly asks, a silent plea and urge for you to tell him how you were feeling.

You no longer waste any effort to lie now that he was onto you. "Overwhelmed," you confess, pursing your lips as you wipe at your cheeks. "I've done my best to tune them all out but I couldn't help but think about you and how you were doing."

Hoseok half-heartedly clicks his tongue at this. "Why are you thinking of me, you silly goose?" he softly scolds, "What about you, hm? Did you… wake up all frazzled, too?"

He’s trying to make light of it, but the both of you know well it's futile with what damage has been done. Still, the talk does well enough to tug on your lip a little. "Mhm," you quietly hum with a nod, "I woke up to my phone going off instead of my alarm."

There's a grimace you can picture with his silence. "Yeah," he huffs, "me, too."

“I…” you murmur, running your palm over your face as you sigh in frustration. “I just don’t understand how they found out about it. Do you?”

Your other half, too, sighs yet again—this time with anger—a telltale sign of fate not being done with its bullshit. “We’re still investigating that part,” he tells you, “if we can get out of the compound safely, that is. Damn paparazzis are snooping around the neighbourhood, waiting for us.”

Hearing the situation makes your eyebrows furrow deeply. “They are?” you ask, “how are the rest of the boys then?”

You hear a faint discussion in the background—Seokjin, you think—and it distracts Hoseok for a moment. “We’re all waiting for the car right now on the way to the company,” he then says. “And all pretty concerned with our soulmates, so here I am…”

The words blossom a warmth in your heart, and a little flurry of butterflies swarm your belly as if it hadn't been so twisted before. “I’m doing alright… I think,” you mumble, "I'm trying to prepare myself for what's going to happen."

The both of you know that this has a high chance of being unavoidable, especially with Seokjin's recent case of apparently stealing someone else's soulmate. The lawsuit against the man who falsely accused him is still ongoing, and even if the topic had been brushed under the rug, you fear that this recent fiasco will unearth the rumors and entangle the rest of the members with it.

Like you, Hoseok takes his time thinking about it—about how the relationship might have to be announced, about how you might get subjected to hate, and about all the other difficulties that might be set off by this trail of dominoes going down. "Just…" he sighs, "just don't overthink it too much, hm? I'm here with you on this—we'll all be."

You find it hard to promise not overthinking—not when it's engraved in your skull, at this point. "Right back at you," you muse, albeit weekly. "Let me know how the meeting with the higher ups will go, hm?"

"Of course," he says, "you might have to join the meeting anywa—"

Someone interrupts Hoseok midway—Namjoon, you recognize—about something along the lines of getting ready. "Our ride's here," Hoseok sighs, accompanied by shuffling of what you assume was him navigating through their dorms.

Is it just you or can you hear camera clicks and ruckus already?

Brows furrowing, your heart drops as you realize it's a little bit too loud and vivid for it to only be from Hoseok's side of the call. You tread your way to the window carefully, as Hoseok's words miss you at the moment you peer down below.

Much to your horror, a group of camera-clad people point their devices at your building. It's a bad day to live on the second floor, you think as you immediately shut the curtains close. How could they know the address already?!

You barely had the energy in you to tell this to your soulmate, especially not when he's about to deal with his own set of paparazzis.

"Wish us luck, jagi," Hoseok tries to cheerily bid his farewell amongst the chaos.

As you sink down to the floor, you take in a deep breath. "Good luck," you tell him, but heaven knows very well it was for yourself.

Fuck. What are you gonna do?

"I've gone through all my accounts and disabled the comments, messages, and notifications. I've also asked my boss for a leave of absence. I don't think she knows about it yet—Thank God—but I told her it was a personal matter and she agreed so—"

"(Y/N)..."

Your breath hitched upon hearing your name, and you put the cart to a stop in the middle of the cereal aisle. "Hm?" You squeaked, fiddling with the string of your large hoodie.

On the other end of the line was your mother, who had called in to check on you after you sent them the news and the guidelines that HYBE had walked you through with Hoseok a few hours ago. "I need you to breathe, darling," she gently scolds, coaching your breathing till you calm down a little. "Now," she sighs, "your father and I are worried about you and it's obvious you're a mess over this. Are you sure you don't wanna come home until this all dies down?"

You chew on your lip to hold back a sigh. "No, mom," you insist, "I don't want you guys getting involved in this mess."

It was for this reason that, late at night, you had snuck past the nosy cameras in the car of the kind old cat lady across from you to go to your local grocery store and stock your fridge for the week so you can hold out in your apartment by yourself. The less people involved, the better.

"It's just a bit of nerves, but I’m a big girl," you assure them, though you're in the midst of shaking yourself. "The company assured us that they will be taking legal actions if anything goes wrong, anyways…"

It may not hold everything off, but it was a nice security blanket to hold on to, while they're trying to put out most of the fire back in Seoul. Besides, you were doing well for the first day, if you do say so yourself.

You've sat through a video call meeting with the company, the boys, and their soulmates—sans Jimin's and Jungkook's, since they've yet to find theirs—and were briefed through a strategy for those who would want to make their relationship public and not public.

You've had a small talk with Hoseok on what to do with your relationship, and you both decided to give it some time before officially announcing your relationship.

You've had a little bit of taste of the flaming comments section as you've gone through the settings of your accounts, and you weren't too charred—you think.

Pushing the cart once more, you make your way through the desolate supermarket. "Everything's gonna be fine, mom," you say, claiming the positive energy your soulmate has left you with. "Don't worry."

Except, it's never that easy, is it?

The chilling breeze of the Atlantic is cruel in its attempts to pry away the warmth between you both. "Don't give me such nonsense!" you screech amidst the panic. "I'm not going!"

He holds onto your arms tightly, both to stop you from walking away and to ground himself in memorizing the very feeling of you—you can't help but do the same. There's heartbreak in his eyes as he meets them with yours."You're with child," he reminds you, cradling your face to look at him when you try and stubbornly turn away. "That's all the more reason to get on the lifeboat now."

This time, at the sight of the crewmen ushering women and children alike onto the boats, your tears truly fall. "I can't," you shake your head, insistent. "If I won't see you again—"

"Then, we'll have the next life," he tells you, though he chokes on his own words. "If all else fails, we'll have the next life."

You don't want to hear anymore of this. No, no, no—

"Please, sunshine," he begs of you, even as his eyes show you traces of his own fear. "For our little one, hm?"

The sudden awareness of the feeling of your stomach—that barely there, yet present bump—tears your heart even more. "Promise me you'll secure yourself a lifeboat as soon as you get the chance," you grip his coat tightly as you begin to relent. "Promise me you'll come back to me—to us."

He only gives you a soft smile and presses a searing kiss onto your forehead as you sob at the unspoken apology of a promise he cannot make.

That night, you were handed to a crewmate and boarded along with other women. Cries and screams surround you, even as you eventually run out of tears yourself. You could only stare back at where you last knew your other half to be, heart pounding and breaking all at once.

Your heart sinks along with the ship.

You bolted up with a gasp, sweat running down your forehead as the salty taste of your tears reached your mouth. In the darkness of your bedroom, you were in hysterics—sobbing, struggling to breathe, and breaking down.

He never came back.

How many times have you forced yourself to sleep, only to wake up just a few hours later from an awful flash of a previous lifetime?

How many times have you spent crying your eyes out in between having everything feel so raw and so real, and trying to convince your brain that it's long gone?

How many times has your mind spiralled out of reality and disappeared into whatever era your trigger was in?

How did you become such a mess so fast in just a few days, (Y/N)?

You're going crazy. This isn't normal.

Forcing yourself out of bed an hour and thirty minutes later and you catch sight of an ugly piece of shit in the mirror. Her eyes are reddened, puffy and rimmed with dark, exhausted circles. Her skin is marred with breakout from stress and being washed with nothing but tears. Her oversized shirt is stained with leftovers, sweat, tears, and snot.

Oh, look! It's you.

Your ribs ache from the deep intake of air you try to ease yourself with, as you hold yourself back and self-reflect a little. Self-deprecating won't help at all in a time like this. The road through the stages of grief was rough, and you were going back and forth through some stages.

The other day, you've discussed your latest episodes of "my previous incarnations are haunting the fuck out of me for some reason and I need help" with your mother, who immediately searched for a therapist in town who could be trusted with you, especially given the fiasco a few days ago.

Through a video call, you first met Dr. Lee, who then posits that perhaps your brain is associating the current stress you have with previous stresses in your lifetimes, thus having them resurface—especially when you're least conscious of them, like in your sleep. And so, as much as it pains you to pick apart every nightmare you've had for the past five days, you do so in order to follow what was advised of you and assess the whole structure of your pain.

Thursday—the day all hell broke loose for you and your soulmate—you dreamt of 1865 and a screaming match with your wife for losing your job at the factory that night. Everything was a mess—your house is in tatters, there's no food on the table, and your children are bed-ridden. That feeling of helplessness and frustration left you staring at the ceiling at 4 AM, as your brain doesn't stop at just that painful dream. It kept feeding you the events that happened after the fact—how you later lost your children to Scarlet Fever, how your desperate neighbors resorted to looting your tattered house, and how such an attack later killed your wife.

Friday night comes and your brain doesn't let up, topping the dream you had earlier that day in a more gruesome fashion. Under accusations of witchcraft, you were dragged to the pyre prepared in the middle of the town where the mob yells profanities and curses at you. A witch, you were not, but you knew well that they'll hang him too if you don't confess you were one. The feeling of the fire searing your skin lingers even as you jolt awake, and the image of him crying out for you, as he tries to wrangle his way out of the guards' hold, burns in your head.

Saturday rolls around and after the previous dream had also compelled you to order takeout instead of going anywhere near the stove, it was then you actively sought to cut out communication with anyone else, fully turning off your cell phone, laptop, and television.

That night, you were almost afraid to sleep, but as tired of everything you were, your eyelids had given in at 3 AM. Fortunately, it seems that the dreams were watered down a little as you eventually find yourself in a deathly silent carriage ride, where your other half sits across from you with such deep frowns in his faces—the both of you not speaking with one another. Despite your hearts screaming for the other, you were both prideful and stubborn, which ended with him leaving the carriage and your life.

You wake up the next day with a heavy heart, and something tells you that they had gone their separate ways—that you had spent the rest of your life then, not knowing another taste of romantic love after you never got the chance to rekindle your spark in that life.

It was then you had given in and told your mother on the telephone what had been going on—how the memories of your past felt so vivid, how the heartbreak of them has weighed you down, and how you lose sleep yet long for it for even just a glimpse of your other half.

Sunday night came, and memories resurfaced of a life where you lost hold of your love nearly as early as you met her, and of a heart that could never be mend the same way ever again. A field of sunflowers surround you both in that little happenstance, all smiles and giggles, making you forget the fact that you were being pursued. No sting of a whip, nor strike of a fist could ever amount to seeing her pained eyes follow you as you were dragged away from one another.

You wake up Monday morning with an extra bout of desperation clinging onto your heart and tears as it finally overcomes your disconnection to the outside world. Yet, to see the amount of messages and missed calls from Hoseok, your parents, and the boys in the few days you slipped under the radar, you became too ashamed to open and read any of them.

The only successful communication you managed that day was your first session with Dr. Lee. She had done well to establish trust with you—neither prying nor mentioning that you were the alleged soulmate of a global superstar, and simply let you start when and where you were comfortable to, even as it ended up taking a lot out of both of your time.

And now, still persistent as ever, your memories have plunged you back to 1912, the sinking of the Titanic where your husband and soulmate then were one of the unfortunate ones who weren't able to board the fleeing lifeboats. You were left a widow, and pregnant with a darling boy who looked so much like his father, it hurt every time to look at him. The cold shower you soon take shakes you more than it should, reminding you of that cold, cold night at sea.

On the bright side, you then think, you've come to a deeper understanding and appreciation of the letters in LoveBook and of the memories you've only ever seen in brief flashes before. Your triggers outside of dreams, much to your nostalgic dismay, have also gotten longer—a couple of minutes, at least.

After spending your shower time to ease yourself, your eyes catch a glance at the corner of your room that you've left abandoned for the past few days—your desk, where your phone and laptop lay dead from your lack of attention.

Then and there, shame and guilt makes you rot from within. A big girl you claimed to be yet here you were, a crying child lost in the ghost of her past. You've done the exact opposite of what you had promised Hoseok and hid yourself away from him and the others. (Your mom was only ever really able to reach you after calling through the landlady's telephone.)

In light of your triggers and breakdowns, you had done some distance away from such technologies, and had been, instead, filling your hours with bingeing content, fixing yourself meals, and laying down in bed.

With the movies and shows you were watching, you managed to fill your head with noise other than your own thoughts.

With the cooking, you managed another, more peaceful form of distraction—one that filled you with a little warmth compared to the others. (Except for the other day that left you wary of fire)

With the sleeping, you managed to simply shut everything off, albeit it eventually going awry and leaving you vulnerable to triggers.

You don't think you've seen any other person since the last time you had to face your landlady in your wrinkled, stained pajamas to answer your mom's desperate phone call. At the very least, you didn't have to deal with some of your nosy neighbors who you caught having a grand ole time telling the waiting journalists about you in the first few days of the drama.

As you help yourself to some breakfast, the same sort of silence fills your morning—one that once again makes you feel dread yet numb at the looming chaos, leaving only the idle clanking of your cutlery to be heard. You know you should be doing something more—but what? You couldn't find neither the courage nor energy left to do so.

Knock knock knock.

The noise shatters your silence and thoughts, drawing your attention towards the source immediately—the front door. Confusion with panicked nerves never do feel pleasant, but you nonetheless coax yourself from your dining table and walk to towards it.

With your apartment barely lit at the moment, a faint shadow against the lit hallway could be seen from the little crack beneath your door. The suspense of the moment was something akin to a thriller movie, but you convince yourself otherwise, trying to reason away your hesitation. Maybe it's the landlady again with your mother on the line? Maybe it's Mrs. Young coming to check on you? Maybe—

Knock knock knock.

The person on the other side doesn't say anything else other than the knock, prompting suspicion back in you as you grab the doorknob with bated breath. Mustering all your courage and energy, you finally—finally—open the door. "How can I hel—"

The words die immediately of shock at the sight of the person you least expect to be at your front door. You could hardly believe your eyes, your mouth opening and closing in its malfunction at the sight of him.

"What—How did you—Why—"

You don't even realize you've gone to reach for his face until he gingerly holds it with his own. "Hello, sunshine," Jung Hoseok softly muses at you, hair a little frazzled and eyes tired but nonetheless staring fondly. Behind his mask was his grin, and while you were tempted to pull it down to reveal it, you were still stunned. "Missed me?"

Your heart beat throws a tantrum within your rib cages at the way he tilts his head to rest his cheek on your joined hands. God, yes you missed him—so, so much.

Collecting yourself enough, you had half the mind to pull him into your apartment and lock the door before you pulled him in a hug—one that he returns just as easily and tightly. "What are you doing here?" You ask, head buried into the crook of his neck, the nice, clean scent of him calming yet sending your very being tingling with bliss.

He's here. He's here. He's here.

Hoseok squeezes your waist, lightly swaying you both as he takes the moment of pure intimacy in. "I contacted your mom about the address," he tells you, lips pressing lightly into your temple. "Wanted to make sure you were alright…"

His words bring out guilt within you, though you had already anticipated its entrance between you both. You can't escape from the talk, after all—but you can stall it. "Does anyone know you're here?" you ask, a genuine question founded in the recesses of your paranoia and worries. "What if you get in trouble?"

Your other half is swift to fend off the doubts, kissing away the furrow that had formed between your brows. "Don't worry about it," he assures you, and while there is undoubtedly more to him and his being here, Hoseok pulls away to steer his luggage further into the premises with one hand as the other finds a secure purchase on your waist. "You look tired, sunshine," he then instead notes, worried yet playful as he lightly bumps his hips to yours. "Do you need your Hobitonin?"

The words coax a soft little chuckle from your lips. "Hm, yes," you muse back, circling your arms around his waist to give him a squeeze. "I'm suffering from severe Hobi Deficiency."

"Well, that simply won't do," Hoseok dramatically declares as he practically drags you onto the couch. "I prescribe lots of hugs and kisses."

Then and there, as your soulmate attacks you with tickles and sloppy kisses, the stifling, suffocating silence that shrouded the apartment is now filled with gleeful laughter.

Then and there, you forget—of the nosy, entitled outside world that sought to ruin you; of the painful memories that plagued you, and; of the endless thoughts that sucked the life out of you.

Then and there, it was just you and him—just you and your other half, your soulmate, your sunshine.

The war scarred you beyond repair, but you had held on, grappled to keep your sanity.

Even when the terrible stench of blood, dirt, and gunpowder filled the air, you refused to buckle and laid among the rotting corpses of your fallen comrades if it meant making it out of the battlefield alive.

Even when you had been caught by an enemy camp, you wrestled your way out of that damned place with only a dull knife to arm you and dragged yourself back to your own camp with a broken leg.

Even when a mission had backfired and left you bedridden in the infirmary with only one leg instead of two, you had endured the agonizing pain and ignored the temptation of death.

Through sheer stubbornness and drive, you had survived—but for what?

Before you was your town—what remains of it. All but rubble and ruins, the sight of it had your heart twisting in pain, your stomach emptying, and your eyes bawling endlessly. You grew up in this small town.

You met your other half here.

You married her here.

You raised your child here.

Every wretched day and night you spent away from this place, you had sworn you would come back to it—to them. You had a wife and a daughter to come home to, and you had done everything possible to make sure you didn't return to them in a coffin.

How cruel of fate to greet you with theirs.

The sudden jolt that your body instinctively commands of you had not done well to aid you much outside of helping to pull you out of the trigger. It left your back and joints stinging, adding to the already pounding ache of your heart and your struggle to breathe.

Beside you, something shifts and it nearly sends you screaming had it not been for your mind reminding you that it was your soulmate.

"Wha…?"

In the darkness of your bedroom, Jung Hoseok groans as he wills himself to sit up. Sleep clouds his mind, but it's a fog that easily disperses upon taking note of your restless state. "Sunshine, what's wrong?" he softly asks, voice raspy and low as he gently rests his forehead on your back. Undoubtedly, he can hear the fast pace of your heart.

Your ears ring, barely hearing him. "Bad dream," you simply say, voice shaking and fingers fiddling with the blanket as his arms snake around you for comfort and snuggles.

Hoseok hums, but doesn't relent just yet. "Mind telling me?" he asks, idly rubbing shapes gently on your skin in a way that’s successfully lulling you out of your panicked state slowly but surely.

You don’t know whether or not to tell him of what you saw and felt—of the longing that gnawed at you, of the fear for their well being that tormented you, of the pain you felt when that fear manifested itself for the worst. You don’t know if you’re, at all, ready to lead Hoseok down the topic of what you had been dealing with for the past few days, but you find yourself telling him the general gist of what happened. "You…” you cleared your throat, “you were gone and I was all alone…"

A fleeting glance at him entraps you the moment you feel his nose brushing against yours. For a moment, you wonder what expression of his that the darkness hid from you, but that thought soon goes blank at the feeling of his hand gingerly wandering to caress your cheek. "It's just a dream," he assures you, using the advantage of holding you to guide his lips to your forehead. "I'm here, we're here—together."

With his words and lips, your stomach is riddled with butterflies, but with nasty scorpions pricking your insides too, because it wasn't just a dream though. It all felt real. It was real.

You slid your hand into his, a silent sigh slipping past your lips as you allowed yourself to savor the moment before gently taking his hand away from your face. "You should go back to sleep," you urged him, "it's been a long day, hm?"

It was fairly easy to imagine the frown on his face. "It's been a long day for the both of us," he says, matter-of-factly. "How about you then, aren't you going to sleep?"

For a moment, you hesitate and think to fake lying back down if it meant he could drop this, but you know he'll notice it and question you more. "I don't think I can…" you eventually admit with a sigh, turning back away from him, but your boyfriend only deals with your evasion by holding you from behind and tucking his chin on your shoulder.

As he nuzzles his cheek against yours, an idea strikes him. "Why don't we talk then?" he suggests, “talk till we get tired and sleepy?"

It’s ridiculous how your heart easily swoons at his gestures. Truly, you appreciate him not prying too much, though you know he’s undeniably worried and curious. Perhaps, he knows the underlying terror from the dream is still there, letting you calm back down while taking a mental note of it for later.

Knowing he wouldn’t leave you alone like this, you sigh and let him pull you back down to bed.

“Alright…”

For the first time, you wake up with a lighter heart, albeit around noon with Hoseok already making you both some simple lunch.

You and Hoseok’s idle chatting earlier lasted enough for the dark sky to turn a shade or two lighter at the arrival of the rising sun. You don’t remember if it was you who fell asleep first or him, but you do remember the feeling of safety and comfort in his arms.

Except, it's never that easy, is it?

Sometime after telling him about the difference between a cartoon and an anime, the moment turns solemn at the dining table. Hoseok's absentminded, first only giving short sentences in response before they turn into nothing but hums and noises. There's something bothering him, something distracting him from digesting that Spongebob isn't an anime and he should watch a real anime with you soon.

Come to think of it, you don't think he actually looked at you in the eye this morning, and now you feel extra guilty because you rambled on a continuation of your talk earlier without realizing he wasn't in the best mood for it right now.

Unrest settles in the pit of your stomach as you take in his furrowing brows and deafening silence. Something in you just knows of what was about to come at this moment. "Hobi?" you quietly, setting your spoon down as you try to brace yourself.

There's a minute or two that passes, Hoseok thinking of a way to organize his thoughts as he fiddles with the handmade bracelet on his wrist—the one you two made together one bored day in Seoul. "What really happened to you?" he eventually comes to ask, voice barely above a whisper. "Why did you disappear for a couple of days?"

There it is.

The very question you've been anticipating to hear fall from his lips.

"I think you have an idea why," you guiltily muse as the bullet you've been dodging, finally taking a hit on you.

—and it hurts like a bitch.

The way the softness of his fades away into nothing—into a desolate, unfeeling canvas you want nothing more than to paint with kisses that ask for forgiveness you don't deserve just yet—hurts more than you had expected. "I thought you should—would—tell me what's wrong yourself," he tells you, so steady and calm yet it brings shivers down your spine all the same.

Your eyes met, and that was all you needed to see how he felt. His eyes alone tell you that he's angry, betrayed, and hurt, and while your heart aches, you know well you deserve to suffer the shame you've brought upon yourself. "I'm sorry…" you tell him, words trembling along with your lips as your eyes begin to sting.

The only thing left to redeem yourself with was honesty, and so, you pour your heart out for him to take as he please. "I…" you sigh, "I got scared and tired, and I just didn't want to bother anyone anymore…"

Hoseok's quick to shut the thought down. "You're not—"

"I know…" you tell him, a tight-lipped smile on your lips for the pathetic path you had chosen. "I was being stupid trying to delay the inevitable, but..."

The first tears that managed to break past your will make you turn your gaze away from him, landing on the plate of food you had abandoned. "As it turns out, reality runs differently than expectations and I wasn't as ready as I thought I was," you breathlessly chuckle at the ridiculous failure you pulled.

Next to you, Hoseok wants to butt in with rebuttals, but keeps quiet to let you go on. "That first phone call we had, near the end of it, I saw paparazzis already looming outside and that was the first strike to reality for me," you tell him, "that a lot can happen in such quick time when I was barely ready to act for myself."

There was shock in his face, one that morphed into something akin to anger that told you, how could you not tell me this any sooner?!

You avoid his eyes, refusing to answer like the coward you were. "Then the dreams came out of nowhere," you instead say, heart-wrenching immediately at the thought of them. "The first time it happened, my brain could hardly distinguish it from the present, and I shut down for a couple of hours. By the end of it, I was too tired to deal with anything else."

Everything felt real—like you were actually starving and malnourished, and you had actually been beaten to a pulp, too pained to help your other half while she's bleeding out on the floor next to you.

After that, it was rinse and repeat.

"When I saw how many messages you guys were sending me, I realized just how much I broke my promises and wasted so much time other than my own," you confess, "I was too ashamed to even leave them on read."

Another wave of tears soon hit you, and by now, you let them crash. "I know I should've done better, should've been better, especially when I had so many others offering a helping hand," you say as a sob breaks past your lips, "but I was too vulnerable and all I could do was retreat."

You feel arms circle around you as you're soon pulled to his chest. Quick to give in, you let yourself cry your heart out, your tears staining his sweatshirt. "I'm so sorry for hurting you, Hobi," you whimpered holding onto him as if he'd slip past your fingertips any moment.

Hoseok squeezes you tight. "I'm sorry, too," he says, breathing shaky as his own tears well up his eyes. He's still hurt, of course, but he knows better than to blame you wholeheartedly when the chaos had left you at your weakest. "It must've been hard to handle all of this alone."

Spending a good hour simply being in each other's arms with nothing of your steady heartbeats to gently sway to, Hoseok traces shapes onto your back—one of the ways of comfort he knows best. "So…" he speaks for the first time since, "who's Dr. Lee then? Is she your therapist?"

You peek up at him, a confused frown on your lips. "How did you know?"

"You look like a different type of tired, sunshine," Hoseok tells you, brushing your hair back with a soft, sympathetic smile. "But no, I, uh," he then murmurs a hesitant confession, "I saw a message notifying you about your next session with her…"

That's it then—the reason why he had been so lost in thought in the first place.

It's high time you tell him the whole truth. "The dreams I've been having…" you began, fingers bunching the fabric of his sweatshirt as if grasping for some comfort. "They're actually triggers," you say, "really sad, really tragic flashbacks of our lives together."

You could hear your soulmate's breath hitch. "Just yesterday I was on the Titanic," you profess, and Hoseok visibly freezes. "Everything felt so real yet so distant."

Hoseok pursed his lips, nodding. "I remember that," he says, eyes staring at a distance. "It was really cold."

For a moment, you feel a desperate need in you to ask him about what happened that night. "Is the dream real then?" he asks about the one you had just a few hours ago and you could only hum in response as the flashes of the war greet you.

"Dr. Lee says it might be my brain associating the stresses of the past and the present together."

You feel his heartbeat quicken, and to your shock, Hoseok, your dear sunflower, was crying yet again. Caressing his cheeks, you wipe away his tears even as you feel yourself get emotional. "I'm so sorry this happened to you, sunshine," he snivels, kissing the palm of your hand. "Is there any way I can help you?"

Heart melting at his words, the soft smile that blooms upon your lips was only natural. "This whole fiasco was neither of our fault," you tell him this, and yourself, too. It was whatever bastard who couldn't keep their business to themselves. "I just need you here with me, Hobi," you tell him sweetly as he leans his forehead against yours.

"No more running away this time?"

What you come to realize was this man, himself, had been just as lost and afraid as you were. "No," you assure him, "I don't want either of us to be alone like this ever again."

The next time anything like this happens, you know better.

You now think you've finally struck a jackpot in ye olde trauma bingo,the pattern slowly unravelling itself before you. "All of them—the dreams—were about losing you," you whisper, eyes twinkling with tears and love for the man before you. "And if what Dr. Lee said was true, then I think that is a pretty consistent fear I have…"

This, you can affirm with your current stress—even if you're yet to fully unravel that pile of mess—to be true. You can't stand to think of how the whole public relationship can ruin you and Hoseok. If you managed to get over this hurdle, who's to say it won't have bigger obstacles in the long run? One where it can seriously harm either of you, or others in the future?

For a moment, you think of how your past lives lived through their pains, ached and endured for their other halves in different ways—some more tragically than others, but in their aftermaths you began to see lessons and inspirations.

You swore vengeance for your wife’s death.

You died under false confessions to save your secret lover from the same fate.

You lived the rest of your life not loving anyone else after he left.

You crawled your way out of hell to rescue your other half from being punished alongside you.

You survived the wreck and raised your son on your own even if it hurt.

You lived everyday in the memory of your wife and daughter.

Though different fates may have befallen them, they all, more or less, suffered from the same fear. Now you’re faced with something that can make or break your life with Hoseok in this time. Letting that fear control you has led you away from the love of your life, and you don't think you can stomach any of that anymore. "I've really got to face it all head on," you tell him, "I don't want to lose you, not if I can't help it."

Hoseok laughs merrily at you squishing his cheeks as you say those words. "Hey now," he muses, lightly bumping his head with yours. "We should be facing it together, remember?"

"Right," you smile, heart about to burst. "Together."

With the way he lovingly gazes down at you, you know very much in your heart and being that you love this man, soulmate system be damned. In whatever universe, whatever life, whatever form you will choose to love Jung Hoseok.

"I love you, sunflower."

You witness the surprise befalling Hoseok's face at the sudden declaration, one that quickly turns into utter bliss as he sweeps in to capture your lips in the sweetest kiss. The first "I love you" in this life couldn't be any more raw and intimate.

Jung Hoseok smiles at you, bright as the sun shining outside your window.

"I love you more, sunshine."

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 : @mwitsmejk @dreamamubarak @pamplemousse-m

#bts imagines #bts au #jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok imagines #bts writing #bts angst #bts fluff #another hoseok imagine? GASP #bts jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts jhope x reader #jung hoseok fluff #jung hoseok angst #bts reincarnation au #bts soulmate au #this wAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE GOD DAMN IT

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