#my tentative ideas for this were that it's actually a time travel AU
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Claps hands alright we’re doing this! So I started listening to magnus archives a few months ago and it really did things to my writing ideas, so now I’m gonna round some up and post ‘em.
I forget where/when I first saw a moth!jon but u know. He’s cute. So here is some moth!jon AU! Corruption Jon :Dc and archivist Sasha! ~1800 words.
Since he is a corruption avatar in this, there is (as expected) some possibly gross bug imagery, but not a lot of holes. And no worms! :D
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The flat is quiet.
Quieter than Sasha expected, and much neater too than she expected when they connected this one to "Filth." The lights are off and there's a faint dusty, sweet scent in the air as she cracks open the door, torch slicing through the dark.
It catches on motes of dust. She thinks she hears movement, a susurrus of rustling like fabric faint in the depths of the place but little else. She pushes the door further, feels it catch on the ragged old rug on the floor and watches moths flutter up, batter against her torch in little puffs of dust before they flutter away.
Part of her worries as she steps inside, as she closes the door behind herself - leaving just a crack in case she needs to get out fast.
This is too quiet for something of the powers. The flat should be more of a wreck, more… more miserably bloodstained, more disgusting and unnerving, but it looks, honestly, just a bit messy, a bit moth-eaten. The couch sags a bit wrong, but hell, she can't pretend she's never had one like it. There are shelves of books, their edges chewed and pages no doubt holey, there's even a mug left forgotten on the kitchen counter. It's all dim; lit only by what spills around heavy curtain edges and her own torch as she steps further in and - and hears that rustling again from the end of the hallway and heads straight for it.
More moths flutter up at her steps, and she is wary, she is. But the things just… flutter uselessly at her hands, their wings shedding dust and their fat abdomens plump and full, but hardly a threat before they fly - further inside.
Towards that faint rustling noise, towards the door at the end of the dim-lit hall that is just open enough to allow the frantic moths to flit inside. Writhing and wriggling at the crack between door and jamb just a moment before they vanish inside, but the movement… it makes Sasha swallow.
Something about the way the bulbous little things squirm before they pop through sets her stomach on edge. Too many of them; more than she thought, all struggling to squeeze into that door.
The crack writhes by the time she reaches it.
She can swear she hears them whine and click and screech in tiny voices above the din of their frantically fluttering wings.
She uses her torch to push the door open. Fast, loosing a cloud of moths from the stuffed crack that fall and flutter and scatter into the dim room before her.
The rustling has not gone quiet. Neither has the soft, whining song of flapping wings and voices she cannot place as she raises her torch high, fumbling for her pepper spray in her other hand. More of a comfort to herself than any real belief it would accomplish anything against something abnormal, but the room doesn’t… change. Nothing leaps out of the dim shadows, nothing comes ravening towards her with a horrid, dripping maw.
It’s a bedroom. The bed is really as far as the light peeking around the curtains lights, in thin, dusty stripes across worn rugs and a small pile of abandoned clothes.
“A-Ah.”
Sasha whips her torch towards the voice, and stills.
There is… there is something like a man there. Tucked in the corner, with all the moths frantically fluttering, scuttling towards it. She watches, stomach queasy, as the moths drill between the heavy folds of the blanket? The wrap? It has folded around itself. It reaches a hand out to a particularly fat straggler and cradles it in its palms like a treasure, bringing it up slowly, carefully, and opens thin, paled lips and lets the thing crawl straight into its mouth as Sasha gags.
It is almost worse then when it looks up.
Long, straggling hair that was probably rather nice once. Now it is loose and lank, black shot with grey and dust that hangs over… over his shoulders, over the thing he has cocooned himself within. His eyes are dark. Too dark.
There are no whites, she realizes, and cannot help but feel her fingers twinge around the pepper spray.
But he isn’t attacking. He is just looking at her, head cocked like a curious animal as the moths burrow back into the shelter he offers.
She can work with this. She sucks in a breath, wills her stomach to settle as she tells it it could really be so, so much worse, and points the torch further towards the floor. Good manners. Going out on a limb that he’s probably not too fond of bright light.
“Hello,” she says. The strange man stares at her. Hard enough she swears she can feel the tracks his eyes leave on her skin, but she only makes herself stand taller. He seems to like that. He laughs. Not maliciously.
It’s soft. Like cotton, like it’s been a long while since he’s used his voice, and the rasp sticks to it as he speaks and Sasha tries not to linger on where exactly that moth went.
“Hello, Archivist. Doing house calls?”
He’s smiling. And that’s what gets her.
His voice is soft and smooth like old silk and his smile stiff like he’s unused to using it, but something about him feels familiar. It’s there, just at the corner of her mind, and she knows she’s frowning deeply as she casts a line and tries to hook just why she feels like she knows this strange man, but then he laughs again and stands.
He rustles as he does. That… that thing wrapped around him doesn’t move the way it should, not like cloth, but she can’t immediately place that, either. Not until he walks a little closer and her torch light catches on it and it… shimmers.
Like moth wings. And Sasha sucks in a breath.
She can see it now. The patterns in the dusty brown, the oranges that circle white to make massive, partly hidden eyespots. The thick, dark veins supporting the overall structure, and she can’t help herself from blurting out, “Can you fly with those?”
The man shudders, that smile hung unmoving on his face as he brings a hand to his mouth and coughs against the static.
“Not well,” he answers into his hand, his too-dark eyes sparkling. He lets his hand drop back into the too-layered folds of his wings and shuffles a little closer; his wingtips drag across the floor, like a blanket wrapped around a child too small for it, and she can see now where his long, untied hair turns into something shorter. A ruff of fur at the back of his neck, across the back of his shoulders.
(Can see the moths wriggling down into the fur, settling there, an army of tiny, coal-black eyes staring out at her, glinting green when her torch light catches them.)
And then he stands still, that faint smile on his face, his dark eyes half-lidded in an expression she cannot place, and waits as that soft, soft distant song hums in the room.
Sasha exhales. This is more than she dared hope for. He’s talking. He’s non-aggressive.
“I,” she begins, wetting her tongue before plunging back into her words. “I was wondering if I could ask you some questions. About the ‘Filth.’ About you.”
He watches, and she feels emboldened.
(Her phone begins to ring as she steps closer to him, and she ignores it. It’s Elias. She knows.)
“We don’t have answers. And if you could tell me, tell us what you know? About… about what’s happening.”
Her phone stops ringing. It starts again. The man smiles wider and reaches out. Sasha can see that his hands are… strange. Plated like chitin, and the desire to grab his hand and investigate each delicately plated joint wars deeply with the uneasy reminder that there are probably moths crawling beneath, of statements that were far, far more explicit about what ‘Filth’ did to a person than this man showed.
His hand waves in front of her face for a moment and she starts, coming back to herself, as her phone angrily rings again.
“Your phone?” the man asks, and Sasha doesn’t hesitate for a moment to shut the thing off.
(Elias. All three calls. If he doesn’t want her here, then she’s not leaving.)
“Well Archivist,” and she knows she is not missing the strange bitterness that clings to that word this time, knows there is something she is missing about him, “If you have that many questions, we should probably get a little more comfortable. I have a feeling that once I let you start, you’ll keep me well after dusk.”
And isn’t it bizarre? As he brushes past Sasha - both carefully and clearly telegraphing his movements so she only feels the barest touch of his wings as he heads back out into the hallway - she realizes she doesn’t feel afraid of this one. A little disgusted if she thinks about him too hard, yes, but there’s been no threat. No… no menace, no winding, evasive non-answers, just. Incredibly human remarks. It almost circles right back around from comforting to even worse than something as alien as the thing with the door. Michael.
But as the rustling moves away from her down the hallway, she can’t help but flash her torch around the bedroom. One last bit of nosiness.
An old, worn bed, rather like the couch. Shelves with books so moth-eaten they’ve gone to pieces. An open closet, filled with over-large sweaters and… She blinks. And oddly proper button ups, slacks.
And then… and then she turns her torch in one last semi-circle and catches upon a strange shine beneath the lumpy pillows.
Like polaroids.
The itch that there’s something she should know only grows when she spots them; growing from a thing at the edge of her thoughts to an all consuming need that drives her in fast steps across the dusty rug before she even catches herself. She fishes the pictures out with deft fingers and - and she thinks her heart stops in her chest.
She knows the people in the picture.
That long, dark hair shot with grey is distinctive - even set on a much more vibrant, lively face, and above a painfully crisp button up. He’s wearing glasses in the picture, and. A name tag.
She can’t read the name, but she’d recognize that emblem anywhere. Not that she needs to.
Because beside the stuffy librarian like man, his eyes green instead of black, stands… Tim. Tim, his shirt as loud as ever, his smile boisterous, and an arm slung affectionately around the man who couldn’t possibly be any more his opposite. And the same horrible name tag pinned to a pineapple-strewn lapel.
The man worked at the Magnus Institute.��
He worked with Tim.
She knows his name now.
Jonathan Sims.
#tma#tma fanfic#moth jon#crowswritings#hides chatter in the tags#my tentative ideas for this were that it's actually a time travel AU#as well as (gasp) jon/tim#bc like i mean who is to say the time travel is actually time travel?#you may as well have been shoved thru the crack to another world entirely where the time flows differently#and in this world jon and tim were originally a lot closer#jon sims#sasha james#i remembered i needed to tag them anyway so just picture tim doing his best to flirt with this oblivious stick in the mud#and catching feelings along the way but the guy is just Oblivious#and then one day he vanishes bc future/alt world jon comes along and p much instantly gets eaten by another Fear#(i imagine corruption as the antithesis to the lonely thanks to my partner so he did feed himself to it in desperation tbh)#when he woke up in a world and more or less panicked not wanting the same thing to happen as before and was so so desperate not to be Alone#jazzhands#he didn't consider that this world was actually different in some ways and legit just thought it was time travel#so when he saw the pictures of him and tim he was deeply confused and panicked and guilty#ok final jazzhands#this is a short drabble#the full idea would be much more than a short drabble and i am not strong enough to do a 50k jon/tim AU#love to spin it around in my head tho
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THE CONQUERORS | LEVERAGE
—— summary: In a world where soulmates exist. Your fate has been sealed to the dragons who burned down your home.
—— genre: Dark!au, soulmate au, yandere
—— warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, some very light angst, smut
—— pairing: Aegon Targaryen I x female!reader, Visenya Targaryen x female!reader, Rhaenys Targaryen x female!reader
—— word count: 5k
*no beta we die like bruce wayne's parents
* first-time writing, english is not my first language
Never before had you experienced such overwhelming terror. You were a collected person by nature, content with allowing chaos to unfold for others, more so even when you had a hand in creating the chaos. Yet, tonight, it appeared that the karma of all of those nights of "fun" had finally caught up to you.
You found yourself being dragged by two strangers, being forcibly led toward the direction of one of the larger tents positioned at the farthest edge of the camp. You had known you were fucked from the moment your eyes had first locked with violet ones. You had felt the bond snap in place. Those violet eyes, the ones that had burned ypur home to ashes, now held you captive. Your life was now entwined with those haunting eyes that had taken your family from you.
You briefly entertained the idea of ending your life. The tent that they were leading you to was situated relatively close to a cliff. Though you were unsure whether the height would prove itself to be fatal, you felt more than ready to take the risk.
Choosing to end your life would be much more honourable than warming the bed of those who had caused your family's demise.
Newly formed soulbonds were meant to be consummated, and you were well aware that the longer time you spent with them, the more inevitable it would become. You knew that it was only a matter of time.
Ending your own life would save you from that fate.
The thought quickly leaves your mind, as you finally arrive at your destination. A sense of relief washes over you upon seeing that the tent is empty. However, that relief swiftly fades away as you are pulled toward the large bed situated in the room's centre. Your arms are tightly bound by sturdy metal chains, anchoring you to the master bed. You sigh, leaning your head against one of the pillows, attempting to find some rest.
The next several hours pass like a blur.
New guards take the place of the former standing right outside the tent. One usually remains on guard while the other leaves — you're not sure why. The idea of you actually being able to escape or cause any kind of damage is laughable at the very least. How would you be able to run whilst tied to a bed with metal chains?
You know it's late when one of them finally shows up — the darkness that fills the room is more than enough of an indication — it's the older one you realise after a few moments of watching her. Her hair was beautifully braided into intricate patterns. She was beautiful but there was an air of darkness that seemed to cling to her. She swiftly took off her ringmail, not even sparing you a glance, as she started undressing.
You did your best to avert your gaze, as she undressed herself fully. She turned toward you, recognising your presence for the first time since entering the tent.
She sauntered toward you. Her cold harsh unforgivable violet eyes digging into you. You're keenly aware of the fact that she's still not wearing anything, as you keep your gaze toward the side. Attempting to hide yourself from her.
She seizes hold of your jaw, redirecting your gaze toward her, eliminating any possibility of evading her. With a firm touch, she runs a finger across your face. The bond hummed at her actions.
"So you're the one."
Eyes still cold as she studies you carefully. Her hand which was previously caressing your cheek, start travelling down south. Stopping briefly at your throat, giving it a light squeeze before moving on, her hand stops when it reaches down to your waist.
She presses her naked body closer to you, keeping the eye contact as she dares you to do something. An amused smirk crept onto her face, at your obvious discomfort. The both of you stay there for a few minutes. Neither speaking, as she continues to study you with those violet eyes of hers.
Simultaneously, she seizes both of your hands, releasing her grip on your jaw and waist. She brings both your hands up to cup her breasts, as she brings herself closer to you. Both of your bodies pressed tightly up against one another. She slowly starts grinding herself against you. Disregarding you completely.
You start thrashing against her desperately attempting to move your hands away from her body. Suddenly, her grip on your hand loosens, and one of her hands swiftly flies up to encircle your throat, exerting firm pressure to keep you in place. You look up to study her facial expression, to see every ounce of amusement had disappeared, instead replaced by a serious demeanour. She leans in intimately, bringing her face close to your ear.
"You fight so viciously, just like your family. What a shame that couldn't save them from their fate," she speaks venomously, "but there's still some of them left, aren't there?"
She looks down at your horrified expression. A smile starting to bloom across her face.
"Your nephew, what was his name now? Was it Flammin? Fliden? No, it is Florian, is it not? Such a sweet young boy. Just passed his fifth naming day hasn't he?" she taunted a wicked smile still present on her lips, "it would be such a shame if his life was to be cut short now, wouldn't it?"
Tears welled up silently in your eyes as the weight of her words began to settle in. Florian, a young boy, was the sole family you had. His mother had succumbed to childbirth, and his father had fallen victim to those ruthless monsters. Florian had always been a frail and sickly boy. Without proper attention, he wouldn't survive even a fortnight. You had dedicated countless nights to his care since his birth, nurturing him in the absence of your older brother. Who always had matters of the court to attend to.
You felt guilt prickle away at your chest. You had completely forgotten about him. In your defense, you hadn't even been sure he survived. Most had suffered the cruel fate of being burned alive by dragon fire. But surely if Queen Visenya knew of his existence, that must've meant he was still alive?
You didn't answer. There was nothing to be said. She had won. And you could tell she knew that too from the smirk that was covering her face. Slowly her hand started slipping down your body again. Coming to a halt when she neared your breast. Keeping the eye contact, she started palming them. Realishing in seeing you melt. As the bond started to hum even stronger.
"Visenya" a female voice called from behind, halting Visenya’s movement, "playing your games again, aren't you?"
"I have no idea what you refer to," she snapped, keeping her back turned toward the woman, "I was simply familiarizing myself with our bonded."
The woman standing behind Visenya was beautiful. With silver hair that swayed openly down her back. It took you a moment, to recall her name; Rhaenys. The youngest of the three conquerors.
You continued to stare at her shamelessly. She was beautiful, both of them were. You absently noted, that her violet eyes were lighter than that of Visenya, there was also a sense of playfulness in them. You presumed that made sense, from the rumours you had heard, Rhaenys was supposed to be the more kindhearted and playful of the three.
Rhaenys' eyes flicked down briefly to meet yours. You were met with a comforting smile, as her eyes flickered up to meet her the older again.
Her lips parted, and unfamiliar words flew from her mouth, a language entirely unknown to your ears. Amidst the unfamiliar words, you faintly understood the mention of the name "Aegon."
Aegon. You're body subconsciously shivered at the mention of his name. It had been him who had discovered you. After the burning of your home, the survivors had been brought before their new king. They were to bow and hail him for his mercy. It was at that moment when your eyes had locked with his, you both knew.
Words had not been exchanged. He had simply walked through the crowd and grabbed a hold of your wrist where your mark was located. With one simple glance at the three-headed dragon symbol marked into your skin, there had been no point in denying it. King Aegon had motioned for his men to take you, as you stood frozen to your spot. He started barking orders for his men to follow, but you could barely make out any word he was saying. Head still reeling from the revelation.
You could feel the irritation radiating off of Visenya as she completely let go of you. The two continued to speak in a foreign language, as Visenya dressed herself once more. The two seemed to be on the verge of arguing before they both left, leaving you alone once again.
You lay sprawled across the bed, sleeping peacefully until the gentle touch of an unfamiliar hand caressing you, caused you to startle awake. Your eyes were still drowsy with sleep, and it took you a minute to fully recognise the person sitting in front of you.
"Aegon," you whispered in shock.
You had only just spoken the words when you jerked away harshly, your body moving on its own accord. You were unaware of when you had fallen asleep last night. You must've drifted off the sleep while lost in your own thoughts.
"Hello," he greeted warmly, edging closer up the bed toward you. You didn't answer. To dazed by sleep to fully comprehend what was going on.
"You must be cold," he tried again. You could feel he was attempting to start up a conversation and unlike Visenya, you had an irking feeling he would want you to respond.
"I'm fine," you responded meekly.
He hummed, seemingly not convinced. He inched himself nearer toward you, aligning his thigh with your reclined figure, the pressure causing the bond to hum. Encouraging you to move closer toward your bonded. You relented. Despite whatever desire that remained inside of you to give in to the bond, and allow for them to do whatever he wished to you. You could not forget the screams of your people as the dragon fire consumed them. How could you ever forget? When their screams would haunt you to the night you die.
“I apologize for Visenya’s behaviour. She can be very . . . . forward to say the least.”
You nodded, accepting his terrible apology and excuse, so you could move on to what was important.
You sat yourself straight up. “My nephew, is he well?”
“He is well,” Aegon confirmed. His finger returned to your face once more, as he started trailing your features. “I can assure you no harm shall come to your nephew, as long you as you remain with us.”
While his words were meant to be comforting. The underlying threat was not lost on you. The message was clear: attempt to run and your nephew would suffer the price for your foolishness. Instead of arguing with the man who held your nephew’s life in his hands, you opted to change the conversation.
“What time is it?”
His reply came instantly. “Late at night. By now most, if not all, have retired to their tents.” His finger continued trailing over your features, now reaching your lips. He applied firm pressure, eyes keen on your every expression, as he moved on to fiddling with your hair.
“Where are your wives then?” You had not meant for the words to escape as bitterly as they did. But at the very thought of Visenya and her complete disregard for your discomfort and family. You couldn’t help the root of anger that was settling over your heart at the mention of her.
“In their tents, resting for the night.” If he had heard the bitterness in your tone then he was certainly ignoring it. He kept a comforting smile on his lips. You furrowed your brows at his answer. Should the Queens not be on the side of the King? While it wasn’t fully uncommon for spouses to have separate rooms, you would’ve assumed bonded like them would remain together.
He seemed to be able to tell your confusion for a moment had not passed before he started explaining himself. “My sisters enjoy having their own separate beds. I fear they would argue far too much about the other stealing all their space. Though I suppose that may perhaps change with your arrival.”
Sisters. They were siblings. Right, you had completely forgotten. The Valyrian custom you had heard so much about. It had completely escaped your mind that all three conquerors were of the same blood and of the same father. Disgust crept its way through you at that revelation.
“Should you not be sleeping?” You quickly said after realising that you had spent far too much time pondering about the strange Valyrian custom. “I much rather spend my time with you,” he replied smoothly. Eyes flickering up to meet yours again.
“And how fun that must be, staring at me sleeping.” You bit back, before realising you had spoken back to the King. “It is indeed,” he replied back rather amused, “especially with my name rolling off your mouth whilst you slept.”
Heat begin to prickle at your skin at his words. Surely you did not?
“What were you dreaming of?” He asks.
You're aware that he’s only asking because he already knows the answer. And despite you not remembering the dream, you're also keenly aware of the sheet of sweat that covers you and the way your undergarments seem to cling to you. You internally curse yourself. You recognise it to be a symptom of not having the bond consummated immediately after your initial meeting. The heightened sense of arousal, the sexual dreams and the need to be in one another’s presence. Direct symptoms of the bond. You remember your mother’s stories of bonded ones meeting for the first time. They usually consummate the bond at the exact moment they meet, the frenzy of the bond simply too strong to resist.
“I don’t remember.” Only a partial lie, you truly did not remember, however, you had an irking suspicion toward what that dream contained, as did he.
He laughs a quiet yet dangerous sound that strokes a fire inside of you. “Perhaps then, I could help you remember. It was after all me you were dreaming of.”
The meaning of his words caused your body to grow fully warm. “You’re flattering yourself far too much,” you lamely attempt.
He moves closer toward you at those words. As you started slowly crawling back from him. A large smirk grew on his face. “I’m sure you like to think that, wouldn’t you.” He drew himself nearer, standing so close to you, you’re faces were merely an inch apart, “but I heard the way you called my name, so sweetly.”
“I did no such thing.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” His voice drops down to a sensual tone, “I myself have to admit that I have found myself dreaming of you plenty of times throughout the day,” he closed his eyes momentarily. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He begins, keeping his eyes closed as if he was imagining it right now. “Or I see you laying on this bed, my sisters between your legs, worshipping you with their mouths, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”
Your heart starts pounding fast. In fact, you’re not sure if your heart has ever gone this fast before. You feel warm. Too warm, despite the coldness of the night seeping into the room. You can feel your pulse in your throat and the dryness that has settled over your lips.
“So tell me once more, what was it that you were dreaming of?” He asks in a hushed voice.
“Nothing.” You reply quickly, averting your gaze toward the exit. The idea of running away from this entire situation seems suddenly very appealing.
“So you don’t wish for my help?”
This time you don’t reply too afraid of giving the answer that you truly wish to say. After a moment of pure silence. With you ignoring his longing eyes, he decides to change his approach.
“You must be feeling so desperate.”
You don’t respond too afraid to say anything anymore. He leans toward you. You can feel his breath in your ear. You can feel the ache between your legs growing stronger.
“We’re not meant to go this long without each other,” he whispers delicately against you, “you know that. It’s only been a couple of hours. Yet, your body is aching for me, just as I am for you.” He glides his tongue against your cheek. Fire spreads everywhere he touches you. “Poor Visenya could barely contain herself from want. I had to order her and Rhaenys to leave you alone or else I fear they both would’ve ravished you the moment you entered our camp. But I convinced them it would be best if I warmed you up to us first. That all of us at once, forcing your attention upon us. Whilst your mind was still reeling from loss would be far too much.”
Your breath comes out shaky as you struggle to contain your own wants. It would be so wrong to give in. They had murdered your family. They had even threatened the only one that remained. Briefly, you wondered how things could’ve been different if you had met under normal circumstances. Telling your mother how happy you were at finding your bonded, asking permission to court you properly once the frenzy of the bond had passed. How different it all could’ve been. Instead, it was them who had robbed you of all of that. Your mother was dead, and so was your father. There was no need for a courting period for there was no one alive for them to ask permission for your hand from.
“Give yourself to me.” Aegon’s voice is rough with wanting like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, let me ease that ache you feel. Give yourself to us, and in return, we shall give you whatever your heart desires.”
“My heart desires for my family to be alive, tell me can you make that happen.” You snap back tears brimming into your eyes at the mention of your deceased family. A full night had yet not even passed and here you were dishonouring them all by giving yourself to the man who had killed them.
Something shifted in Aegon’s eyes at those words. Violet eyes growing stern much like Visenya’s had. His hand grabbed at your jaw bringing your eyes up to meet his. The familiarity of the situation was not lost upon you. As you stared up into his beautiful violet eyes.
“What happened to your family was their own fault had they simply bent the knee as I had asked of them. There would be no need for the pointless slaughter of your people,” his grip at your jaw tightened, “but I have been merciful have I not? I could’ve burned the survivors in dragon fire as well, but I did not. I could’ve killed your pathetic nephew who continuously begs my guards to be brought into your presence. But I do not. You know why?” He rubs the tears falling from you eyes away, “for I am a merciful King, but that does not mean, I shall remain one.”
“What is merciful of you burning my family alive? It was our King who made the decision to not bend his knee, not us!” You shouted back, jerking yourself free from his hold. "You say it’s mercy letting us live. Very well, then go ahead kill me. Give me the solace of being united with my family once more.”
He laughs, coldly at your little display of anger. “Very well, but remember that you asked for this.”
He backs away from the bed, grabbing his sword on his way out. “Wait! What’re you doing.” You desperately yell after him, “I told you to kill me, to punish me! Wait!”
You struggle against the metal chains keeping you tied to the bed. Your screams for Aegon to stop echoing through the night. Soon those screams are replaced by those of others. Dread fills your being as you realise what was happening.
Tears stream down your face your throat becomes sore from your sobbing. Eventually, you fell asleep, tears still streaming down your face.
Upon awakening, a throbbing headache greeted you—a consequence of having cried yourself to sleep. The light streaming into the tent suggested that it was now daytime. You glanced down at the blanket enveloping your shivering form. Vaguely, you remembered someone entering the tent late at night after you had drifted off. Whether it was Aegon or another you weren't sure. Exhaustion had overwhelmed you to the point where the mere thought of opening your eyes and checking was too much.
After throwing the blanket on you, the person joined you in bed. But remained at a comfortable distance so as not to disturb you. As you stirred around, you became aware that the person had left.
You sighed, running a hand through your face. The metal chains still digging painfully into your wrists.
The events of the previous night played back in your mind on repeat. A sense of dread fills you. What would the consequences be if you continued to reject their advances? How far would they go to keep you in line? How many would die as a consequence of their anger? Would they kill you if you continued to deny them?
You remained sprawled on the bed for several hours, unable to free yourself from the metal chains that bound you. Eventually, tiredness overcame you, and you slipped back into slumber. When you stirred again, it was to the sensation of someone shaking you awake.
"You must be starving," the voice observed. You recognised the voice; Rhaenys.
Before you, she stood, as breathtakingly beautiful as you remembered her to be. It took a moment for her words to fully register, and then you nodded in agreement. The audible growl of your stomach served as a reminder of the prolonged time you had gone with the absence of food—it had been two full days. Rhaenys smiled, offering you a plate of food. Without a word, you accepted the plate and began to eat. Rhaenys remained silent, unabashedly observing you as you ate.
After finishing your meal, you silently set the plate on the side table. The room fell into a hush as the two of you sat in silence, you with your gaze fixed on the floor, and Rhaenys studying you intently. Suddenly, she rose and positioned herself directly behind you on the bed, your back pressed against her chest. A surge of fear gripped you—what was she planning? Would she force herself on you as Visenya had done, or would she threaten you much like Aegon had done?
Surprisingly, she did neither. Instead, she pulled a brush and began running it through your hair. You started relaxing under her gentle ministrations. Eventually, she transitioned into braiding your hair skillfully. Two large braids took shape, and she proceeded to pin them up into an elegant updo, her actions gentle and kind.
"You shouldn't have said those things to Aegon, you upset him."
Her words sent a sudden jolt through your body, erasing any trace of comfort that had briefly settled into you. Instantly, tension gripped your frame.
"Your continued denial of the bond shall only bring pain to us. Embrace it. Acknowledge your destined path. You belong to us now," the calmness Rhaenys exhibited while speaking, caused shivers to run down your spine, "should you attempt to escape with your little nephew, our forces will inevitably hunt you down and bring you back. Half of Westeros has fallen to our whim, the rest shall soon follow. Tell me, who shall risk their lives and those of their kin to shield you from us? Last night, you incurred only a speck of Aegon's wrath, forcing him to unveil but a fraction of our might. Imagine the repercussions should you provoke us once more."
With that final word, she left. Leaving you once more in a state of fear.
Days pass before someone attempts to visit you again. Each day, a new guard came to attend to you, delivering food and bringing you to a nearby lake to clean yourself.
As days pass you begin to fight your own instinct. Begging for you to be near your homicidal bonded. Each night you were haunted by dreams of them, each dream leaving you more frustrated than the last. The fact that you know that they have been visiting every night while you pretend to sleep doesn't help.
It is on the fifth day of this behaviour continuing that you finally snapped.
A gentle hand traced along your back as your consciousness began to return. Most of your nights since entering the camp had been spent sleeping, daydreaming or reading. The familiarity of the rough hand hinted at Aegon's presence, a revelation that didn't surprise you. Although all three had taken turns visiting you every night. Aegon was the one that usually ended up curled next to you sleeping at night.
Upon feeling you stir, he retracted his hand from your back. Instantly your own shot up to stop.
“Wait,” you all but begged, “don’t stop.”
“Don’t stop what?”
His voice was rough, just like you remembered it to be. He hadn’t spoken to you directly, not since that night. You had heard him bark orders at his men and seen him conversing with Orys Baratheon. But he had refused to speak to you ever since you had snapped at him.
“Touch me, please.”
The pure desperation in your voice wasn’t lost on you. And though you felt heat creeping up your skin at your confession, you couldn’t deny how badly you needed him. After all, Rhaenys had been right. You were only causing yourself misery by refusing yourself what you wanted. At your request, his hand rubbed down the side of your waist. Your breath becomes shaky as you turn to lie on your back to face him. Aegon was staring at you intensely.
You didn't know what to say to him. How to voice out the desire building in your chest. So you settle for calling out his name. Your voice is dripping with desire and desperation. Gazing into those violet eyes, you catch a glimpse of the fire so characteristic of the Targaryens just before his lips meet yours.
There’s nothing gentle about the kiss shared between you two. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of their true desires for far too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. His hand grabs a hold of your hair and keeps you in place. The bond hums loudly in approval of your actions.
Aegons draws himself back slightly to look at your expression, his free hand moving to palm your breast over your nightgown. You moan at the feeling. His other hand lets go of your hair to slither down your body and press against your core.
“You’re drenched,” he mutters breathlessly, slowing down his movements as he starts to tease you, “I could make you cum from this alone.”
“Please” you beg, your hips bucking up to meet him.
“I should make you beg me for it after everything you put us through.” His eyes are dark as he speaks, his thumb pressing hard against your clit, making you moan. “Luckily, I am a generous King. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”
You nod wildly, as he inserts a finger into you, pleasure pulsating through you.
“You’ve been craving this, waiting for this very moment,” Aegon murmurs against your ear with a wicked smile. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”
You whimper pathetically, your hips rocking wildly aganist him. “Say it,” he demands, pushing another finger into your dripping core.
“I need you to make me come, Aegon. Please, my King, I need you so badly.” You purposefully empathize with his title, knowing what button to press to make him give in.
His violet eyes darken even further as he pulls you towards the edge of the bed, getting down on his knees in front of you. He makes swift work of removing your clothes. Before his lips descend down on you. You moan loudly your hand moving to entangle yourself into his hair.
Aegon mumbles something against your clit that you can’t hear, before teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing it in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers moved to find that soft, aching spot inside of you and he purposefully pressed against it in slow, firm thrusts that made you tremble.
“Aegon, please” you moan, partly as encouragement for him to continue and partly because you want him so badly. You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release. You’re so close.
“Aegon, please,” you plea again, truly desperate now. “Please my king. Please.”
You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or if it’s just pure coincidence, but in that moment. Aegon shifts his rhythm, bringing you closer toward your peak and over the edge.
Your orgasm hits you hard. You have never felt anything like this before. You feel satisfied but also feel the ache growing stronger than ever before. He looks up at you a smile displayed on his beautiful, handsome face. He crawls up to you, pressing a deep kiss into your lips. He continues kissing you as he slides a hand down to your core again. Firm fingers pressing against you. “There you go, feels good doesn’t it?” He murmurs into your temple pressing a kiss against it, “I wanna see your expression this time. You can come for me again. Can’t you my sweet girl?”
He speaks as if it’s a question but from the way he’s pressing his finger into you. You know, you have no choice in the matter.
“Oh, dear, Lords,” you gasp loudly.
You’re doing so well for me,” he kisses you again. He lowers his voice to a sensual whisper, leaning in closer to your ear. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over me like the sweet girl you are.” It’s the combination of his words, his voice and his perfect hands that bring you over the edge.
“Yes, that’s it,” Aegon mutters encouraging, as he watches you. “You are so beautiful when you come undone like that.” He kisses you slowly. It’s only then you realise that he's still fully clothed while you lay naked underneath him.
You don't have time to complain. All of a sudden, he grabs hold of your body, manhandling you around so you now lay on your stomach. He pushes your head into the bed harder as he scoops a hand underneath your hips, lifting your bare ass into the air, exposing your drenched pussy to the cold air.
He lands a hard smack on your ass.
"If you hadn't been so stubborn, this could have happened much earlier" Aegon spoke in a hushed voice, hands trailing down your waist. You said nothing. Entirely too breathless to defend yourself. Aegon placed himself at your entrance and allowed you no time to adjust to the massive length of his before he slammed into you. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you. You gasped as he picked up his pace, fucking you with wild and reckless abandon.
"Come on, my sweet," he taunted, "tell me how much you hate me now."
Aegon slammed into you so deep it really felt like he might kill you after all. You felt yourself pulse around his cock, your pussy trying to somehow pull him in deeper.
"So. Fucking. Tight," he said through gritted teeth. His hands gripping your hips with such force you knew they would bruise. Part of you beamed internally at the idea of being marked up by your bonded. Heat exploded inside of you. Your eyes were momentarily blinded as you felt yourself reach your climax.
"Please, fill me, Aegon," you begged, head still shoved into the bed. Aegon groaned at your words, holding your hips tightly as he pulled you back up against him to fuck him. He picked up his speed, thrusts becoming messy and sloppy as he chased his own peak.
He thrusted in roughly a few more times before he finally stilled, pushing inside of you as far as he could. He stayed inside of you for a few moments more before slowly pulling out, watching his cum spill out of your abused cunt. The loss of him being inside of you, causes you to whimper, feeling empty.
"That was truly a spectacular show," Visenya's voice sounded. Turning to your right, you beheld the sight of both the sisters standing there, a hint of amusement evident in their expressions. "I certainly hope you're not too tired for another round," Rhaenys quipped. The two women sauntered closer toward the bed where the two of you were situated. Crawling over the duvet toward you.
"Not that it truly matters if you are," Visenya smirked. Planting her mouth at your shoulder blade, she started sucking. Rhaenys copying her movement on your other one. You hummed in delight, completely unaware of the massacre that was befalling your people outside the tent, as your bonded made sure to keep your undivided attention on them.
They couldn't afford the possibility of your focus being split between them and the well-being of your people, especially when you were destined to belong to them. And with the bond now finally complete, you would never be able to leave. The strategy of isolating you without their presence played out flawlessly, leveraging the bond into compelling you to yield.
#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon the conqueror#aegon the conqueror x reader#house targaryen#rhaenys the conqueror#rhaenys targaryen#rhaenys the conqueror x reader#visenya targaryen#aegon i targaryen#visenya targaryen x reader#visenya the conqueror#game of thrones#house of the dragon#got#hotd#hotd fanfic#got fanfiction#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#yandere#soulmates#soulmate au#house of the dragon x reader#yandere x reader#yandere x you#game of throne x reader#hotd smut#got smut#aegon targaryen smut#smut
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no rest for the wicked || jjk
➼ title: no rest for the wicked
➼ pairing: camp counselor!jungkook x camp director!female reader
➼ genre/au: angst | a little fluff | smut | suspense/thriller | light humor | camp crystal lake au | friday the 13th au | enemies to lovers | slight unrequited love | idiots to lovers
➼ summary: Camp Crystal Lake is under new management. You’ve come back to your old hometown to gather some work experience before graduation. You know the dark history surrounding these grounds, but the real challenge is going to be hot guy standing in your kitchen, the same guy that made you leave in the first place.
➼ word count: 7k
➼ warnings: strong language | bickering | mentions murder & massacres | urban legends? | pranks | mild violence(not really descriptive) | mentions death | snakes | a bunch of arguing | mentions smoking and cigarettes | mentions allergic reactions to roses | reader has tattoos | tension (sexual included) | dom!jungkook | switch!reader | choking | doggystyle | ass slapping/spanking | biting | scratching | marking | slight angry/hate sex | hair pulling | manhandling | clit play | thigh riding i guess? | protected sex | dirty talk | spitting | confessions | the ending is cute if you ask me lol | if i missed something please let me know
➼ rating: 18+
➼ a/n: hi! so I wanted to do something based on one of my favorite horror films, Friday the 13th. This story is not horror and the horror/gore listed above is only mentioned. However, I recommend googling what the movie is about before reading if you haven’t heard of it because I based my backstory off of it. This story is more suspenseful and humorous if you ask me and mainly focuses on the pairing’s relationship instead of the actual Jason Vorhees story. Anyway, I hope you like it. Also, I know this is unedited and rushed but this was a last minute idea. I’ll edit it and make it better in the future.
masterlist | permanent taglist
Welcome to Camp Crystal Lake
The freshly painted sign lets you know that you’ve finally arrived at your destination. You’ve traveled over 800 miles and hiked through a slightly dense wooded area in order to reach your home for the summer. This all will be cleared by next week by the time camp officially opens for the children. For now, it’ll just be you and ten camp counselors that you’ll be supervising during your time here.
You accepted this job knowing the history of this place, and the tragedies that have occurred. But out-of-state school costs are expensive, and it’s been over 40 years since the original owners shut down the camp. After all this time, their children would like to bring innocence back to this place, and burn the horrific events that earned it the name Camp Blood.
People started calling it that in the 70s, after the grounds were terrorized by a vengeful masked murderer that sought after camp counselors he deemed unfit. The story says that it was all the wrath of a man whose son’s life was tragically lost due to the negligence of the employees.
There are some rumors that say his spirit still haunts the camp grounds every thirteenth Friday, symbolizing his son’s age at passing and the day of the week that it fell on—lurking for young adults who sneak off to fuck around in the woods instead of doing their job and monitoring the kids.
As if you weren’t already on edge walking the eerie grounds, tomorrow’s Friday and the calendar says May 13th.
You sigh as the glimmering lake and renovated cabins come into view. At least you’ll have a proper place to lay your head tonight. Initially the property owners told you that the cabins probably wouldn’t be ready in time of your arrival, and that you’d have to set up a tent most likely. But you got a call last night saying that everything was taken care of and you could bring your things into the employee living quarters.
You find it quite easily since it’s the largest building on the property. Inside is the kitchen, two bathrooms, and bedrooms for the staff. It also houses your office, and you can’t wait to get in there and customize your space. Your hopes are to make it so comfortable and fit for you that you forget about the memories that plagued you when you passed through your old hometown earlier. Everyone should have moved on by now; it’s been three years, but to be safe you made sure your job was away from the city limits—and the people you once called friends.
Those people have been left in the past, especially him. You shiver every time you think of his name, and you quickly bury it in the back of your mind so you can forget once again. This is a step towards your future, and you plan to use these credentials on your resume. The director who brought life back to Camp Crystal Lake will open a lot of doors for you. You have all sorts of activities planned for the children. You just have to see what you’re working with first.
The hiring stage was conducted by the owners so you have no idea who will be working under you this summer. Their information is supposed to be sitting on your desk, so you’ll dive in as soon as you settle. You’re very excited to meet new people that love children as much as you do, and you’re sure whoever they’ve selected will be great employees.
In fact, one of them is here a day early, and you’re relieved you won’t be spending the night on a deserted camp alone. The biggest smile adorned your face when you parked next to the black pick up truck in the lot, and it is still present as you step across the cabin’s threshold, positivity and optimism coursing through your veins while you look around the empty room.
“Hello! Anyone here?” you call out, but get no response.
Shrugging, you set your bags by the door and venture further into the mostly open floor plan. There’s a hallway towards the back that leads to multiple rooms, so you opt for heading in that direction. The wooden floor creaks beneath your feet every time you take a step, and you know it’s something you’ll have to get used to. There’s also some noises coming from two doors to the right, so you shout once again to announce your presence.
“Hey, it’s me, the new director. Are you decent?” Nervous laughter leaves your lips because you don’t want to literally catch someone with their pants down, or even worse, interrupt an active burglary or something. You can’t be certain that the car belonged to a camp counselor or ground’s keeper. “Hello?”
However, after one peek around the doorframe, you notice that there’s no intruder—just a guy jamming to music through his air pods while making himself a sandwich. You’re impressed by his moves, wishing you had half of his coordination. He seems to be around your age, but his back is facing you, and the only thing you can make out is his brown hair and muscular frame underneath his large clothing.
Tattoos crawl up his right arm and disappear under the sleeve of his shirt. Your mind is already wondering where the trail stops. You’ve always admired body art and you even have a few tattoos yourself—but only in places that are easy to cover. Unfortunately, they aren’t really favored in your career path.
The man seems to be enjoying his alone time, but you figure you’ll at least tell him you’re here so he’s not alarmed when he eventually hears another pair of footsteps walking around.
You tap his shoulder, and try to introduce yourself one final time.
“Hey there, I’m—”
“What the fuck?! You scared the shit out of…me.”
You both stare at each other in total disbelief, but after a few seconds you realize that you aren’t dreaming, and that you’re actually standing face to face. Your shocked expressions transform into scowls of disgust. You’re the first to speak while he grabs his phone to pause his music.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Jungkook?”
Never in a million years did you think you’d use that name again. It produces bile in your throat each time you pronounce just a syllable of it. He isn’t pleased to see you either, and his scornful eyes vividly display such feelings. They burn holes into your skull, but you imagine yours hold the same impact as you glare back at him. His hair may be shorter and his skin may now be littered with tattoos and piercings but those lips, those dark eyes—they haven’t changed one bit.
“I’m working, isn’t it obvious?” he finally scoffs out, resting his weight on the counter and grabbing his sandwich. He takes a bite before pointing at you, speaking throughout random gulps to swallow down his food. “Don’t tell me they hired your prude ass to watch children.”
Your weight shifts to one leg and you fold your arms. Offended by his tasteless insult, you decide to take a jab of your own.
“Worse,” you smirk while watching him take a sip of his milk, brows lifting with curiosity over the rim of the glass. “They hired me to look after you, asshole.”
Jungkook nearly chokes on his drink. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Deadass,” you gloat.
He turns away from you and looks towards the ceiling, pinching the bridge of his nose. If you weren’t about to be under the same roof as him for three months, you’d laugh at how flustered he’s become. “This has got to be a joke man.”
“It isn’t, and if I were you I’d watch what I say to me because let's not forget who’s in charge of terminations from today forward.”
Jungkook’s arms fall to his sides when he hears those words. You find satisfaction in watching his tongue poke at his lip ring because you know you’ve struck a nerve. He turns in your direction again and he shakes his head.
“I see you haven’t changed one bit,” he notes.
“And what do you mean by that, Jungkook?...because you haven’t changed so much yourself, you know? You’re still a jerk, and an annoying pain in my ass.”
He starts walking towards you, and suddenly you recall the last thing he’s ever said to you. “This isn’t over, bitch. You’ll get yours.” You have no idea what those words meant, but they still give you chills—and for good reason.
You ratted him out to the principal. You had no choice; he was going to prank you again, but this time the results would have been really bad for you. For two weeks prior, you’d been receiving anonymous gifts at school. You suspected Jungkook from the moment you saw the handwriting on a note someone slipped in your locker. The admirer told you to meet them behind the gym during sixth period. Since you were a senior, fifth period was your last class.
Imagine your surprise when you showed up early and found Jungkook standing in the meeting spot, waiting for you to arrive—a cigarette in one hand and a bundle of red roses in the other. You went directly to the principal’s office and he was escorted off campus shortly after. Jungkook was expelled only a few months before graduation and the entire school hated you for snitching, but what were you supposed to do? He was going to attack you.
“I’ll tell you what it means,” he says, stepping directly in front of you. He peers down at you through his lashes, asserting his dominance by using his larger stature.
However, you don’t plan on backing down, no matter how much his aura intoxicates you. You focus on your anger towards him, the built up hatred you developed due to all the horrible pranks he’s orchestrated to embarrass you during high school. It’s all you need to remember what kind of jerk he is, picking on girls in front of his friends, but dodging them when he’s alone. He’s a coward, and you won’t bow down at his command.
“It means you’re still an evil ass kissing bitch, but I’m about to dry your cunt up real quick, sweetheart.” He gives you a lopsided grin before he continues.
“You may be in charge, but this is my uncle’s property, and if anyone has to go, it’s going to be the girl who got his nephew expelled from high school. So if I were you…I’d watch what I said to me,” he chuckles coldly.
There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach following his words, but you ignore it and stand your ground. “All I did was tell the truth,” you whisper and Jungkook throws his head back in laughter.
“Are you delusional? You hearing yourself, right now?”
He shakes his head and grabs his phone, abandoning his lunch as he prepares to leave.
“You know what? Fuck it. Talking to you is like trying to get a brick wall to move. Just stay the hell away from me and we won’t have problems. I’ll sleep in my damn truck tonight.”
Jungkook brushes past you and exits the kitchen, leaving you alone to bask in bad memories you tried so hard to forget. You hated each other then and you hate each other now. However, the resentment comes from something much deeper than teenage rivalry. You know the tension between you is bound to come to a head at some point, and you just hope it isn’t here.
It could ruin everything, and it’d be one more tally for Jungkook when it comes to embarrassing you. For now, you’ll try to step on egg shells when it comes to him. You’ll play nice and only communicate with him when necessary because this job is too valuable for you to lose it over someone like him. You begin cleaning up the mess he left behind with a heavy heart. “Ugh…Why me?”
May 13th, 2022
Well, it’s Friday evening and you haven’t heard a word from Jungkook since he stormed out of the cabin yesterday. He eventually came inside this morning to shower and eat, but has spent the majority of his time in his room. None of the others have arrived yet, but they aren’t on schedule until tomorrow. You still wish there was someone else here to distract you from the ominous feeling you get at night.
It’s always so quiet; even the wildlife isn’t active when the sun goes down. It’s like they know something is lurking—something dark and sinister. You didn’t get any sleep last night. You felt so isolated, so exposed in the middle of it all. If it wasn’t Jungkook invading your mind every time you close your eyes, it was the stories of this place told to you by your parents.
All night you expected a man in a hockey mask to appear out of nowhere, and butcher you like he did previous counselors. There were some survivors, the employees who weren’t at the camp to fuck and party. You keep telling yourself that if his vengeful spirit were to return, or if someone followed in his footsteps—you’d be safe. But survivor’s guilt is real, and violence is never the answer.
You don’t wish such a horrible death on anyone, not even Jungkook. So, of course, you were a bit worried about him being out there alone last night. Hopefully, tonight he’ll consider staying in here—for his sake and yours.
There isn’t much to do right now, so you’re lying on your bunk bed, looking through your phone. Your head lolls to the left and what you see makes your blood run cold.
“Oh my god!”
You jolt out of bed and slip on your sneakers when you see the dark colored creature slither across the floor. It retreats under the neighboring bunks and hides in the darkness, waiting for something to venture near so he can strike. You run out of your room faster than the speed of light, calling for Jungkook to come and help remove it.
“Why the fuck are you screaming?”
His voice is rough and he’s obviously in a bad mood. You assume he was sleeping because he’s only wearing his sweats, not a shirt in sight. You almost forget the reason for calling him, but he snaps his fingers and you’re quickly brought back to reality.
You point towards your room and give him a nervous side-eye. Your voice trembles when you speak. “Under the bed. It’s a snake…a big one.”
His face shows nothing but annoyance.
“Are you sure it isn’t just a sock?”
Your eyes expand, offended by his lack of urgency and seriousness for the matter.
“That thing moved!...Fuck it, I’m not sleeping here.” You try to leave, but his arm wraps around your waist before you can get by him.
“Alright, just hold on. I’ll go check it out,” he sighs.
When he withdraws you cannot ignore the way your body reacts to the loss of warmth, and you want to slap yourself for actually seeking after his touch. You’ll blame it on your lack of human interaction since you’ve been here.
Jungkook steps into your room, but turns to you before he goes any further. “Can I use your phone? I need a flashlight.”
You nod and quickly pull it out of your cardigan’s pocket, placing it in his hand and allowing him to turn it on himself. Jungkook taps the flashlight icon on the lockscreen and approaches the center of the room. “It’s under the bed to your right. Please be careful. I don’t know what kind it is.”
He doesn’t say a word as he gets on his hands and knees, keeping a safe distance while he aims the light into the dark crevice. He squints his eyes and curses after only a few seconds of searching.
“Oh, shit. That’s not good at all.” Jungkook gets on his feet and you immediately take notice of his flushed face.
“Is it that bad?” you gulp, and to your worst fears Jungkook nods.
“The pupils are like diamonds; it most definitely is.”
He leaves the room, but doesn’t take his eyes off the snake’s hiding place.
“What kind is it?”
He blows out a puff of air before he responds. His eyes are wide and in utter disbelief. “It looks like a moccasin, but I’m not a hundred percent sure. I just know it has to go.”
“Well, what do we do? I can call my dad but—”
“There’s some shit in the storage closet; I’ll get it,” he states calmly, placing your phone in your hand. “Make sure you keep an eye on the floor, and if it comes out, just stay away from it. I’ll be right back.”
Jungkook is gone before you can get a word out, leaving you alone once again. Your mind can’t help but think about what would have happened if you’d put your feet down at the wrong time. You probably wouldn’t be standing here talking about it right now. What if you were alone? Help is miles away, and by the time anyone got to you, it’d be too late.
That’s why you requested that someone with trained medical experience be here at all times, and according to his paperwork, he should be here tomorrow morning at 8 am sharp. You’d sure appreciate it if he were here now, however. This isn’t safe by any means, and neither of you are professionally trained for this task.
“Has he moved?”
Jungkook returns with a bucket in one hand and what looks like snake tongs in the other. You make a mental note to go over the importance of safety when it comes to the local wildlife with everyone, especially the kids. A bite from a snake like this can be fatal to an adult, and a small child would have even less of a chance.
“No, it hasn’t moved. But Jungkook, I think we should call someone. This isn't safe,” you suggest.
“Your dad’s a cop. He’s never shown you how to grab a snake?”
“Yeah but…”
Jungkook laughs. “If you’re scared of snakes just say it. I’m not one to judge.”
“No! I’m just…kind of worried? Today is…you know.”
“Well, try not to be so superstitious,” he tells you before entering the room for a second time. “I’m gonna close the door so it can’t get out, okay?”
You want to protest, and your mouth opens to do just that, but he gives you a look and you instantly change your mind. “Okay.”
“See you in a bit,” he winks, shutting the bedroom door behind him.
About ten minutes later, the door opens again and Jungkook holds up the bucket in triumph. “Would you like to kiss your prince before he departs?”
You roll your eyes.
“So what are you going to do with it now?”
He shrugs. “I guess I’ll put it on the porch. He should be fine overnight. I’ll wake up before dawn and take him on the other side of the lake where there’s more wilderness. I’ve been wanting to catch the sunrise anyway, so this works.”
“How do I know you won’t just go over there and kill it?” you jest, but Jungkook doesn’t think it’s funny. The second his expression changes, you realize that the joke should have never left your mouth. You quickly try to apologize. “Sorry, I—”
“Keep it.”
“Jungkook, I didn’t mean it like that,” you try to convince him.
“I don’t care. That’s your fucking problem; you never think before you open your damn mouth.”
You opened your mouth to apologize again, but instead you ended up giving him a piece of your mind.
“Excuse me? At least I’m not a coward. You used to be cocky when you were with your little clique. Now you can’t even look me in the eye whenever I bring up what you’ve done.”
“I’m the coward?” He shakes his head and laughs. “Then what are you?...I called you, texted you, and you ignored me. You didn’t have to accept my apology, but you could have at least listened to what I had to say after you found out why I was really waiting for you that day.”
“Jungkook, I’m not going to believe your lies. You know damn well what you were doing back there and you’re just pissed that it backfired on you.,” you argue, and Jungkook scoffs.
“You keep telling yourself that.”
“I will actually because it’s the truth.”
Jungkook prepares to walk away, but then suddenly pauses. His back is turned, so he looks at you over his shoulder.
“You act like everything’s been all bad between us, like all I’ve done was harass you. You’ve forgotten who’s saved your ass with homework you forgot to finish or who’s given you rides home when it rained even though it was on the other side of town. I brought any of that to anyone’s attention because I didn’t do it to hold it over your head. I did it because that’s just the kind of person I am, especially for someone I care about. But if you want me to be something else…you got that.”
He starts walking down the hall without another word to you, and a part of you wants to go after him, but what he said doesn’t justify his actions. You don’t trust him, and he has himself to blame for that. So you stay silent, because if he really cared, he wouldn’t have so much animosity towards you when you did nothing wrong. It’s not your fault you couldn’t put the pieces together; you were too busy looking over your shoulder for his next prank, and even though it’s been years since he threatened you with his words—you look around every corner before you make a turn.
One thing you’ve already learned to appreciate in your short time here is the shower. The water reaches the perfect temperature, so you can’t help but stay in there a little bit longer than you should. You have to enjoy it while you can because after tonight you’ll have to share, cutting your time in the bathroom in half.
Since you’re alone in the cabin, you take your time and detangle your curls. Jungkook isn’t here so you don’t bother rushing to get your clothes on. A towel is the only thing that covers your body. Your skin is still damp and too hot to throw on a t-shirt so you opt to stay this way until you air dry and cool down.
Once you leave the bathroom, you turn off the lights and go straight to your room. You hadn’t realized you left the window open earlier, and you shiver as the gentle summer’s breeze flows through your bedroom. You throw your phone on the bed and quickly walk over to the window so you can shut it. However, a sudden uneasiness forms in your gut, an instinct you have when something just doesn’t feel right.
You gnaw at your bottom lip trying to piece together what could be happening and eventually, you brush it off as just your paranoia getting to you. Before you close and lock your bedroom window, you glance at the moon and stars, noting how beautiful they are away from the city and how you’d like to get some pictures before you leave. But that’ll have to wait because right now all you want to do is lie down and at least try to get some sleep—if only your mind allows it.
While pushing down the glass, you notice something out of place on the outskirts of the woods. You have a small view of the lake from where you are, and the only thing preventing you from seeing it entirely is the trees. However, there’s something blocking the small opening that allows you to see Crystal Lake from your room, or maybe…someone?
You lower your head to eliminate the glare in the window, and that’s when you see it. Barely, but you’re able to make out a white orb in the distance.
“What the fuck is that?”
You don’t have long to figure it out either. Suddenly, the object begins to move and within seconds you realize that it definitely is a person, and they’re coming straight towards your cabin. When they’re about 30 feet away you can clearly see their dark clothing and the infamous white hockey mask the guy that committed those murders were said to have worn. Fight or flight sets in, and your first reaction is to get the hell out of there before he can catch up to you with his long strides.
You rush out of the cabin wearing nothing but a towel and Pokémon slippers—no phone, no keys, only a bit of hope that Jungkook is alive and near or at least sleeping in his truck so he can drive you both to safety. Once your feet touch the soil, you channel every ounce of determination and drive you possess. Speed will be your only asset against a figure that appears to be twice your size. But unfortunately, even all of that isn’t enough.
“Let me go!”
A pair of arms grab you before you can even reach the path that leads to the parking lot. You kick, you thrash, and you scream like your life depends on it—because it does, and you use every tactic your father taught you to try and break free.
Your efforts pay off with an elbow to their stomach. A pained laugh escapes the person, and when you jab them again they finally agree to release you. You’re surprised at how familiar their voice sounds.
“Alright, alright. I’ll put you down, but chill. It’s just me,” he chuckles, placing your feet back on the ground. You try to make another run for it, but he grabs your hand and takes off his mask. “Don’t go running off into the woods. It’s just a joke. Calm down.”
“Jungkook?...Wha—”
“I was just fucking with you,” he laughs, doubling over and clutching his side. “You should have seen your face. And then you really almost crushed my ribs, damn girl.”
You feel anything but amusement right now, and you head straight for the cabin to start packing your things.
“Should’ve been your balls,” you say as you’re passing him.
Fuck this camp. Jungkook and everyone else can have it. You knew you shouldn’t have come back here; it was very foolish of you to think you could actually be in the same space with Jungkook and his old ways wouldn’t resurface. You’ll just find another way; something else will come up. But you can’t stay here any longer, not with him.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
You kick off your slippers because they’re just slowing you down. Jungkook is on your tail and when he grabs your arm you immediately pull away. “Get away from me. I’m leaving!”
“Leaving?...What are you just gonna quit?” he quizzes. You spin around and walk up to him, fueled by nothing but rage and resentment.
“That’s what you want, right? Well, you got it. I’m out…you’ve won, Jungkook.” His smug smile fades slowly and his brows furrow as he processes your words.
“Ahh, here you go again. How does someone survive under same roof as you?...I’m nice, there’s a problem. I’m a jerk, you’re ready to leave. It makes no sense.”
“You call setting me up to be humiliated nice?”
Jungkook’s hands run over his face in frustration. “I thought we established that I was doing nothing wrong that time.”
“If you weren’t doing anything wrong…which is obviously a lie because you were smoking. Why were you the person waiting for me to turn the corner?...With roses! I’m allergic to roses. You lured me there to hurt me and humiliate me.”
“First of all, I had no idea about the roses and I tried to apologize, remember? I wasn’t trying to be mean to you. I told you I just wanted to smooth things over and—”
“Then why write them Jungkook? Why make me believe someone actually liked me?” you question, cutting him off.
Jungkook steps closer, but once again you do not back down. You don’t care about how angry he is because you’re pissed ten times more. He’s gone too far this time.
“Maybe because I was building up the courage to tell the girl I’ve liked since third grade that I liked her? Ask her to prom? Apologize for being an asshole because she didn’t deserve any of that stuff I did...I don’t know, maybe it was all of those things. I was just doing what the guys told me to do. I wanted your attention, and I was finally trying to get it the correct way,” he argues, anger radiating from his body. He stares you down with so much hatred that if you weren’t feeling the same way, you’d crumble.
“So what if I had one cigarette to calm my nerves? I was fucking shaking, and I put it out after the first hit because I didn’t like it. But the only motive I had for being back there was to get the girl I liked alone so I could apologize and ask her out, but she got me expelled before I could do that.”
His words seem genuine and sincere, but they’re driven by fury. He’s still upset with you and you cannot understand why. You didn’t know, and if you did you still wouldn’t have known how to respond. It’s his fault for traumatizing you so much that you didn’t see all the signs. You feel like shit for it, but you can’t go back and change things. You’re trying to move forward, but each time you take a step, you’re always knocked back two.
“Then you just get to move on and forget it ever happened?” he continues. Your brows furrow when you see the gloss covering his eyes.
As if you weren’t already feeling terrible for not being able to read between the lines, Jungkook was right earlier; he helped you out just as much as he joked around.
You didn’t even give him a chance after the day he left school, but how could you when you were dealing with the aftermath of his expulsion? “You come here with your head all high like you own the place, like you haven’t flipped my life upside down. It’s not fair.”
“Jungkook, I had to move on. You think you’re the only one who suffered? Everyone hated me for getting you kicked out of school. And don’t act so beaten down, your dad got you out of it. Or did you think I didn’t hear about that?”
Jungkook scoffs. “Yeah, because everyone knew I liked you…everyone but you. And my dad paid a load of money to make sure I could at least get into a good school. Why the hell do you think I’m here? He calls and I run, until I’m done paying him back.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know! But what am I supposed to do about it now? I can apologize a million times, but I can’t change the past. I’m tired Jungkook, so either we end this tonight or I’m leaving because I can’t live like this. Do your worst if it makes you feel better, prank me the whole fucking summer, embarrass me in front of the kids and the staff.”
He lowers his head and shakes it as he speaks. “That’s not enough. It’s never been enough.”
“Then what is, Jungkook?...Tell me what makes it right? I’ll fix it.”
Jungkook looks at you then, softer than before, but his expression still holds a bit of frustration.
“You just don’t get it,” he whispers.
“Then help me understand. Show me if you can’t tell me. You want revenge? Take it. Or if there’s something else you want, you can take that too. Just go for it because this may be the last chance you get.”
His fingers reach up and touch your arm, and he runs them delicately over your skin. “How do I know if what I want is something you’re offering?”
“Everything’s on the table. You have me alone until tomorrow morning. Do whatever you want, I’m all yours,” you assure.
“Anything?”
“Everything.”
“Well, come here then.” Jungkook pulls you close to his body and leans in. You expected him to kiss you, but you didn’t expect it to feel this way. His touch is more rough and aggressive than you imagined it would be since he was so timid previously. It still feels amazing despite his lack of tenderness and affection.
He grabs your face and guides you to the nearest wall, never breaking away from the heated moment you’re sharing as he does so. You can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that all of your hatred for him is being released, you can enjoy every inch of his sculpted figure.
You try to reach for his shirt, but he grabs your wrist and pins it against the wall, smiling when he hears you whine. His tongue slips into your mouth and explores as deep as its length will allow.
“Is that all?” you ask him when your lips ultimately part for air. His eyes linger on your mouth as if he’s missing the warmth already, and you can’t stop yourself from smirking in response.
“That’s not even half of it.” Jungkook’s hand still holds onto your face and neck, but you’re too drunk off his touch to feel any discomfort.
When he finally allows you to touch his chest and biceps, you try to coax him into spilling all of those hidden emotions buried beneath the surface; it seems to work after a moment. You purr each syllable when you speak, and Jungkook lingers onto every one of them as if they were the answer to all of his prayers. “Then what are you waiting for?...Clock’s ticking.”
“Stop talking like that.”
“Or what?...What’s going to happen if I don’t?” Your challenge makes him tighten his grip. You wince, but nothing tops the satisfaction you get from pissing him off. “What are you gonna do?”
Jungkook growls, and the sound makes you shudder. “You wouldn’t even be able to walk in the morning. Don’t ever try me like that, sweetheart.”
“Do it. I fucking dare you.”
Jungkook chuckles while kissing his way up to your ear. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”
“Well, enlighten me–Oh fuck!” He uses his knee to force open your legs and flexes his thick thigh against your bare cunt. The contact makes you gasp out a desperate moan.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Jungkook’s grin widens when he feels your thighs try to rub together for more friction.
“Fuck, yes.”
He drags you across the room and he all but tosses you on the couch.
“Strip, then turn around,” he commands.
You take off your towel and throw it at him. Jungkook twirls his finger in a circle, so you turn and bend over the sofa’s armrest. “Shit, you have tats, a nice ass, and you’re fucking soaking…the hell am I going to do with you?” he asks while leaning over you to speak into your ear.
“Hopefully, you’ll fuck me…and soon–ahh, shit.”
Jungkook slaps your ass and gives it a squeeze. You whimper under his touch, trying not to moan, but then his finger teases your entrance, and you have no choice but to let it out.
“You’re not in the position to give me demands…not while your cunt’s trying to suck in my fingers, sweetheart. Play nice, and I’ll feed you well,” he says with a smirk.
You groan, and he slaps your ass again; your backtalk then ceases for a while.
Jungkook spreads your folds and spits into your entrance, chuckling when you clench in response. “The quiet ones are always freaky,” he comments.
“Shit, I need to grab a condom. I’ll be right back—”
“Here.” You reach into the couch and pull out one of the condoms you secretly stashed there. You can imagine the shock on Jungkook’s face when you reach back and hand it to him. “None of us are saints, Jungkook. Don’t think about it too much.”
And he doesn’t. He quickly pulls down his pants and rolls it on. Your anticipation heightens when you feel his blunt tip come in contact with your heat, and you turn your head to watch his face contort when he slides in.
“Fuck,” he sighs when he finally feels your warmth molding around his length. His moaning makes butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach, and you don’t even give him a second to get used to the snug fit. You bounce on his cock and watch as he looks on in awe, taking off his shirt and throwing somewhere across the room.
Jungkook grips your waist and takes control; you grab onto the couch when he starts fucking you back, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he concentrates on pleasuring you. You both set a steady pace, but you feel like he’s holding back so you purposely taunt him into giving you more. “You fuck like you’re scared or something. Afraid you’ll drown?”
He reaches forward and tugs your hair. “Nope. I was just going easy on you, but if you insist…”
You scream his name when his thrusts quicken, and he uses his grip to pull you back on his dick. He digs into you deeper and harder, and the pressure in your abdomen begins to build after a few calculated motions. Jungkook’s hand continues to come down on your ass randomly, and each blow leaves your pussy gushing with arousal. He pulls you up and holds you close to him once he’s left you behind red and sore to the touch. “You feel so fucking good. Damn, I wish you were mine,” he moans into your neck.
Your hand reaches behind you to play in his brown strands while he bites and leaves marks on your neck. “Is that what you want?”
He lifts his head and looks you in the eyes, slowing down but still digging into your cervix.
“Damn right,” he replies, teasing your sensitive clit. “Gonna come for me?”
“Mmhm, please don’t stop doing that.”
Your nails dig into his arm while he ruts into you. You come with his name flowing from your lips, and he follows soon after. His body trembles as he spills his seed into the condom, and he sighs when he’s finally released all the pressure he’s had inside of him.
Your body almost slumps over when he pulls out and tries to withdraw, so he’s forced to keep you close to him so you don’t hurt yourself. “Can you even walk to your bed?” he laughs, giving you a glimpse of his cute boyish smile.
“Probably not.”
He sighs and scoops you up. “Alright, let’s go to bed, lightweight.”
“Shut up,” you mumble, slapping his chest.
He stops near the kitchen door and tosses the used condom in the trash before taking you to your room and placing you on the bed gently. “Night,” Jungkook says quickly before turning to leave.
“Wait.” You grab his hand to get his attention, and he pauses. “I don’t usually ask these questions, but…did you mean that stuff or were you just fucking around?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that unless I meant it. I still like you, but I know it’s too late,” he says before he looks at you. He stares for a few seconds and responds with an exhale. “Please don’t leave, though. I really miss you.”
You pat beside you. “Come lay with me?”
Jungkook nods and takes off his shoes before he climbs in your bed. “I only ask because…well, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, for everything. Especially tonight, I never want you to see you that upset again,” he admits.
He doesn’t say anything when you touch his face and trace over his features. “Can I come with you when you take the boat out tomorrow?”
“Yeah, of course.”
You yawn, and Jungkook wraps his arms around you, caressing your sore behind to help you relax.
“We’ll talk then, okay? It’ll be all romantic and shit,” you tell him and he only scoffs. “Seriously, it’ll be like those movies, and then we'll kiss—”
“And then we’ll try to fuck without rocking the boat too much?” he suggests. You roll your eyes and turn away from him, suppressing your giggles as best as you can. “Did I ruin it?”
“It was ruined before I started talking.”
“True.”
When it’s quiet again, your mind begins to wonder and one question resurfaces in your brain that you forgot to ask Jungkook. “Hey.”
“What’s up?”
“How did you make it to the front of the cabin so fast earlier? You were literally like 10 feet away from my bedroom and then right on me when I ran out,” you point out, making him lift his head.
“I wasn’t back there. I was getting ready to come through the front door and scare you, but you just ran out. I figured you thought you saw another snake or something.”
Your breathing pauses. “Dude, I saw you.”
“No…you didn’t see me.”
Well, if it wasn’t him, then who?
Your heart rate speeds up, body working in autopilot as you try to usher Jungkook out of the bed. “We gotta get out of here. We have to run, there’s—”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. That was my friend Tommy. Please don’t be mad at him, I begged him to help me,” he confesses and you narrow your eyes at him. “Don’t get mad, babe,” he pouts.
“Oh, I’m not going to get mad, Jungkook.” You crawl over his body, straddling him and kissing his lips before you continue. He thinks he’s off the hook, but you’re about to show him what you’re capable of.
“...I’m going to get even.”
#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#bts smut#bts angst#btsdreamcourt#bangtanbathhouse#bangtansorciere#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic#bts imagine#bts x you#jungkook fluff#sugakookitty
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*Walks in with a skip* hey hi Ven and Lauriam brainrot au anon. Would you like to hear another idea that's been buzzing in my brain?
Okay imagine this: the boys take the lifeboat, become xehanorts victims, ven get hurt, lauriam goes insane buuuuuuuut this time lauriam is able to get them both away. And they just both so happen to end up in LoD. Ven is currently losing light and life by the minute and Lauriam is in pretty bad shape. He drags them up the stairs and bangs on the door banging for help. Cue Eraqus answering in surprise, Lauriam who is fading in and out and can't see well in the dark quietly whimpers, "Brain . . . help . . ." before collapsing in a heap with Ven held protectively to his chest.
Eraqus now worried and confused how a random kid knows his grandfathers name calls for his apprentices to help move the boys inside (I imagine Aqua is 17, Terra is 19, and Lauriam is in the middle at 18 and Ven is 12). Ven still manages to connect to Sora's heart but it takes longer than originally but Eraqus and Aqua were able to stabilize his heart before he lost anymore light. Ven falls into a mini coma and Lauriam is out for a few days.
Xehanort shows up at some point asking if Eraqus had seen two young boys, his apprentices had an accident and he's "worried." This can go one of two ways, Eraqus is an idiot and allows Xehanort to come in and see the boys knowing where they are and can manipulate the situation in his favor orrrrr Eraqus deeply concerned how Lauriam and Ven ended up in such a bad state alone at his doorstep so he lies but promises to keep an eye out.
When Lauriam wakes up his memories are fuzzy he just went into straight panic mode when he thought Ven would actually die this time. He's very wary of Eraqus and demands to see Ven refusing to leave his side sleeping in the bed and holding him to his chest. Aqua and Terra are curious about the two mysterious kids that fell on their doorstep but Eraqus keeps them at a distance seeing they've been through a shock.
Things get better when Ven wakes up but Lauriam is distressed to see how empty and traumatized Ven is. He practically has to relearn everything like a baby not just his keyblade training. Eraqus tries to bridge a tentative peace with Lauriam offering to let them stay as long as they need. Slowly Lauriam and Ven find a place for themselves becoming Eraqus' pupils, Lauriam missed having peers around his age and sparring against someone not trying to kill him is surprisingly therapeutic.
Ven recovers and seems to have no memories of the year of hell or daybreak down the union leaders or darkness. Lauriam decides to let Ven be no need to bring old demons back, having Terra and Aqua as additional support which gives Lauriam time to use the library to do research and find his sister and friends. Since Lauriam has had more training he gets to take his mark of mastery sooner and actually passes allowing him to travel and look for more clues. Xehanort eventually shows up depending on what Eraqus does to Terra and Aqua's mark of mastery and Lauriam feels a twinge of fear seeing his abuser again.
Despite his best efforts Lauriam can't stop Xehanort from interfering both in the exam and leading Ven away from home. Lauriam travels the worlds looking for Ven but is always one step behind. Luxu finds Lauriam and decides he'll be useful, this time Lauriam does make it to the keyblade graveyard in time for the final battle just like Strelitzia he can't bring himself to hurt Ven and is mostly on defense. Terra gets taken by Terranort, Ven destroys his heart and lays dying again. Lauriam is desperately trying to save Ven along with Aqua but neither notices Luxu skulking behind until he's right on top of them. Lauriam goes for the attack while Mickey and Aqua take Ven and flee.
Luxu and Lauriam go into an all out brawl but ultimately is defeated by Terranort cutting him down turning him into a nobody. But he's kept imprisoned for a bit before he officially joins the organization. When he goes to CO Marluxia doesn't understand why he feels so agitated (or what he thinks is agitation) why he wants to take the organization down but there's this burning need to. He feels drawn to Sora, he wants him as his puppet but there's a strange feeling of affection as well, he doesn't want to actually hurt him and has to resist the urge to comb his hand through his hair when standing close.
Ven's sleeping heart responds to Marluxia's presence, and Sora feels this longing pain but is also disgusted by Namines abuse. Even though Marluxia can't actively remember Ven some part of him feels he's close. He knows Ven is in danger and is ready to do anything to keep him safe even if it means being obliterated. Hiding away in the chamber of waking Ven's body sheds tears for his brother and Sora is confused when he starts crying as he prepares to go to sleep and fix his memories.
Oh hey, you did find me!
Thank you for sending me an ask ! 🌟
I love that Lauriam initially mistakes Master Eraqus for Brain. They definitely look alike, and it would be such a shock for Eraqus that someone so young would mention his grandfather! (That would definitely raise some questions,,,)
And Aqua, helping to stabilize Ven’s heart; that sounds like such a frightening moment for all of them—especially since Terra and Aqua are so unused to having any visitors at all. (Also, it’s interesting that Terra and Aqua are closer to their BbS ages, while Ven is closer to his age in UX. I wonder if Ven and Lauriam arrived later in time?)
Hmm… if Lauriam is willing to trust Eraqus, Terra, and Aqua, he might be able to warn them about Xehanort… but there’s a lot of reasons for him to be secretive too. Either way, I think Eraqus knows to at least be cautious, so he’d probably keep them safe, for the time being.
And it’s cool that Lauriam ends up in the final battle, even if it doesn’t end well for him… I can see how becoming closer with Ven would change his relationship with Sora later on too.
I actually have a question for you, if you’d like to send another ask:
Does Xehanort know that Ven was involved in Strelitzia’s death? If so, does he try to use that to turn Ven and Lauriam against each other?
Thanks again for sending this! Adding Lauriam into BbS makes for a very heart wrenching AU.
#On a happy note: I’m having fun imagining Terra Aqua and Lauriam (jokingly) arguing over who gets to spend time with Ven#And I bet they were all cheering Lauriam on through his Mark of Mastery exam#(I wonder if the four of them meet again in KH3’s Keyblade War…?)
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Off on a Hero's Journey
Summary: Galavant Au. Sir Leona is out of shape, so you need to help him train. Luckily, Sir Malleus seems to be on a similar trip to you, and he's willing to help.
Missed the rest of the Au, since it took me so long to worry this one? Check out my masterlist! Ooh look at her.
Sir Leona was fiiiiiiine. His hair pulled back into a pony tail, buff arms, sword at his hip, piercing eyes surveying the road ahead from atop his horse.
There was a minor problem though. Even though he was still in incredibly good shape, two years of not heroing had taken a toll. Your party could only travel for a couple hours at a time, before Leona would say it was "Naptime" and make Ruggie set up a tent.
You were starting to lose it with him. Your father and people were waiting for you to return with him, and he didn't seem to care enough. If you weren't bringing him to turn him over, you'd be heartbroken right about now.
A week into the journey, and the third nap of the day, you decided you needed to take matters into your own hands.
"Sir Leona," you said, storming into his tent, as Ruggie tried to hold you back. "We cannot continue at this pace. King Kalim will kill my father and my people, if we don't hurry."
He let out a low growl, which would have frightened anyone with a weak will. Luckily that wasn't you.
"Don't growl at me, sir. I am the heir to the kingdom of Pomefiore. And I demand you respect me."
"You demand?" He snorted angrily.
"Yes," you said, pulling your sword and pointing it at him. "We are getting you back in heroing shape, and your training starts now."
"Seriously," he laughed smugly. "My sword's out there, your highness."
You gestured for him to leave the tent, and followed behind. He grabbed his sword and gave you a half hearted smile. You had disarmed him in three hits.
"Shihihi they got you. Or were you going easy on them?"
"Can it, Ruggie." Leona growled. "Fine, I won't go easy on you since you're gonna be a brat, herbivore."
Again, you disarmed him. You could see potential though, now that he was actually trying. You just had to keep working with him.
"New rule," you said grimly, after you had pinned Leona facedown to the ground. "For everytime we stop for "naptime" we will do an hour of training."
….
Naptime breaks were much less frequent for the last couple of days. And everytime they did occur, Leona whined the entire time about how the training "negated the energy gained from naptime". He was getting closer and closer to in shape, and his stamina was getting better, so you could ride for longer.
One day, you were training, and you were breaking a sweat. You could tell he was going to win this one, which was good, it meant you were finally getting him back to the legendary hero he'd been. He had just disarmed you and had the flat of his blade to your throat. His smug smile was negated by the pure happiness in his eyes, as his emerald gaze took you in, his breath tickling your skin.
"Sir Kingscholar!" You heard a booming voice say.
Pulled from your reverie you saw a knight on a black horse. He had long black hair, emerald eyes, and pristine shining horns.
"Draconia" Leona sneered.
"Wait, Sir Malleus?" You exclaimed. You'd heard his legends since childhood. He was supposedly second only to Sir Leona in might.
"That would be me," he kept from his horse, and kissed the back of your hand as he bowed deeply. "And who might this gorgeous creature be?" His eyes glimmered up at you, and you felt the back of your neck start to grow warm.
"Oy!" Leona batted his hand away from yours. "That's my herbivore, so back off."
Leona's glare met Malleus' dark smile, and the tension was palpable. And it gave you an idea.
"Leona," you stood tall like you'd been taught since childhood. "If you can beat Sir Malleus in a duel, we won't have to train for the rest of the journey to Pomefiore."
"But what happens when I win, child of man?" Malleus looked at you with a sparkle in his eye.
You hadn't thought that far ahead.
"Um, I don't know, what would you want?" You asked shakily.
He tapped his chin in thought. "Hm. I wonder."
"You could give him that mirror I found in your bag," Ruggie spoke up, holding up the magical mirror that was your only valuable possession, and the thing you had to make sure arrived with Leona when he arrived in Pomefiore.
"Uh…." You started.
"Is that the dark mirror? Very well, I accept your terms," Malleus smiled.
"Wait…"
"Bring it on, you fucking lizard," Leona growled.
"Sir Leona? Can I have a word?" You croaked out.
He rolled his eyes and leaned into you.
"What, herbivore? This is what you wanted, right?"
"Listen, that mirror is my kingdom's most valuable possession so…don't lose. Please." You pleaded under your breath.
He grinned, and your stomach fell. "Why did you bring it then?"
"It was in case you weren't gonna help. Now please don't lose."
He paused for a moment. "No more training, and I get first pick of the snacks from now on and you have to be my nap pillow once a week."
"What!?I…" he raised a single eyebrow at you, and you sighed. "Fine." You said, and watched as Leona cracked his neck then squared up against Malleus.
….
You had to admit, it was awe inspiring to watch them face off. Two legendary knights, with strength only parallelled by each other, facing off in a battle. It was a shame only you and Ruggie were there to see it.
But in the end, Leona disarmed Malleus. And while Leona seemed smug, Malleus let out a booming laugh.
"That was great fun Kingscholar, I've missed this. Not having you around to play with has been so boring."
"Whatever," he scowled, "Now be on your way." Then he turned to the snack pile to get first pick of today's rations.
As Malleus was saddling his horse, you walked over to him.
"Thanks for dueling him, even if you didn't have to. I'm sure you're very busy."
"Well, I'm on my way to what's going to be a very nasty war, so it's good to keep in shape," he smiled at you.
"Where are you headed?"
"Prince Ace of the Heartslaybul kingdom has put out a summons for all able bodied warriors to come help him free Pomefiore. Apparently, Scarabia invaded while he was at war with a neighboring country, and he has very close ties with them."
"Wait, Prince Ace knows? When do you think he'll arrive?"
What was this feeling? Was it hope? Hope that your kingdom could be saved without you having to betray the handsome knight who you definitely didn't find handsome?
"His troops are tired. It may take another month at least. Though with how deeply the people of Heartslaybul share his love of Pomefiore, I'm sure they will all do their best." He got on his horse and looked down at you with a smile. "I don't believe you ever have me your name."
"You're right, I didn't. But you can call me Y/N."
He laughed, "You are a fascinating child of man. I hope we meet again someday." And then he was off.
You returned to where your fellow travelers were sitting, and were startled when Leona yanked you to the ground, and laid his head on your stomach.
"You're my nap pillow now, remember?" He said, and though you couldn't see his face, you could practically hear his smug smile.
"Right," you groaned.
"And that means I get the tent!" Ruggie giggled, leaving you both to enjoy the tent. Maybe Ruggie was the real winner here.
Now the two of you were alone, and his warmth was starting to make you lull off. Then you heard his deep voice speaking at a low volume.
"Look, herbivore, I'll only say this once, djdjdh…"
"Sorry, I didn't catch that last bit, you kind of trailed off."
"Thank you," he growled. "When Vil left me for King Kalim, I thought there was nothing worth living for, but you've reminded me, heroing was never about me, it was about helping others." He rolled his eyes and said, "Also thanks for whipping my lazy ass into shape and what not, I was in no shape to be rescuing myself let alone Vil or a whole kingdom."
"Leona….
"No more words, it's naptime," and like that he was asleep.
He looked so innocent, so far away from his pain and despair. Far away from your looming betrayal. Sure, he was big headed, and could be an annoying prick, but in another lifetime….
No, you couldn't think like that. You had minor hope, since Ace was coming, but you had to remember there was an entire kingdom at stake should he be late. You had to do your duty, and swallow any feelings you may have had concerning Leona Kingscholar.
Your kingdom depended on it.
#galavant au#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#leona x reader#ruggie bucchi#malleus draconia
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📔📖📕?
three fandoms for the price of one!
(more) Ted Lasso:
okay, so one of my all-time favorite 90s movies is The Fully Monty and i think it would be such a fun AU for TL. the movie's themes overlap with a lot of what Ted Lasso's got going on (mental health, insecurity, father/son relationship, and how everything is wrapped up in men's relationship to their masculinity) and some of things Ted Lasso hasn't really addressed (yet) like class and sexuality. Plus stripper Ted! and the rest of our Diamond Dogs fit really well with the other characters (Beard as the best friend, Nate as the younger, insecure guy they help with his self-esteem, Higgins as the one who teaches them how to dance, Roy as the grump who is surprisingly good at dancing (definitely thanks to the yoga moms), throw Jamie in there as the hot guy lol). i could also see it as either Rebecca/Ted (she owns the club where the guys want to put on their strip show) or Trent/Ted (trent discovering what the guys are up to and sticking around to write an article about how the state of immigration affairs is so bad this poor man is putting on a strip show to get money to stay with his son; in this AU, i imagine michelle has a job in the UK). who knows if i'll ever write it but i'm thinking thoughts!
Stranger Things:
i'm going to keep the plot i've tentatively started drafting under wraps for now, but i have sent so many ST fic ideas to the graveyard over the years (rip the Will-centric ready player one AU, my beloved). a recent one that will haunt me for a while is a Station Eleven-inspired post-canon where our gang technically won the war against Vecna / the Upside Down, but it has inadvertently caused the apocalypse. while the rest of our gang has scattered across the country, trying to pick up the pieces of the world, Steve is one of the last holdouts in Hawkins. Meanwhile, Eddie has been traveling around as a wayfaring musician. idk it would be a little western-inspired because i've always loved western aesthetics in the apocalypse (stranger stumbling into town! nature running wild again! outlaws abound!). who knows what the plot would be other than finding a sense of home again. but i love that Station Eleven idea of art surviving the apocalypse and how it fosters community and i don't know!! maybe one day i'll figure out what this rambling would be about.
Dead Poets Society:
to anyone who ever subscribed to me / followed me for DPS, i am so so sorry. i wanna get back on the horse! i'm not sure if this is the plot i'll go for when i do (i once promised a Charlie POV of my good grief series and i do have some scenes of that drafted), but i have been toying with a While You Were Sleeping AU.......just thinking about Neil Perry being "in love" with Jeffrey Anderson who he has never actually spoken to. Accident happens, Jeff's in a coma, his friends and family think Neil is his fiancee, chaos ensues as Neil starts falling for Jeff's brother, Todd instead. This or my 80s The Sure Thing road trip from hell AU.......they compel me!
(Put "📓" or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I'll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven't written but daydream about.)
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"together we can fly" ➷ Eret
or: a love ignored for far too long blossoms under the bright lights of a circus tent.
➛ pairing: c!Eret x gn!reader
➛ idea: An unhealed foot injury of your partner Foolish forces you to perform with Eret at short notice on the opening night of your circus. But when old feelings come up again during your first training session together in a year, you have to make a crucial decision.
Either you have to suffer the consequences of a broken heart, or the circus will.
➛ wordcount: 7,1k
➛ tags/warnings: circus au, friends to more to strangers to lovers, a bit of angst (maybe a bit more), fluff, swearing
➛ an: there are many ideas for fanfictions and stories wandering through my brain, getting scribbled down in my journal where they will stay, not growing further than a few sentences but this one wouldn´t leave me alone. It took me weeks to write this and in the end, it is so much more than what i had imagined. I hope you enjoy this thought that became a small universe <3
reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
"I'm sorry, what?"
Stunned, you stared at Wilbur, waiting for your director's serious expression to contort into a laugh at falling for his joke, but the longer the brunette kept silently looking at you, the clearer the gravity of the situation became.
"According to Ponk, Foolish's foot injury hasn't fully healed yet, and if he were to perform, it could only make things worse, and he'd be out for this season," Wilbur repeated the doctor's instruction, and with each word the feeling of dread in your stomach increased.
"Eret will be filling in for Foolish".
No sooner had the name of the last person you wanted to work with right now been dropped than you slumped like a boneless sack in the creaky chair in front of Will's desk.
You felt the fear on the back of your neck, uncomfortably cold it traveled down your spine, and mentally you cursed your best friend for his reckless action of "Of course I can jump from this rope to that rope" that had ended in a week of bed rest and not the cocky shouted out "jump of the year."
Jump of the year, my ass. It was a jump right into the book for the dumbest ideas Foolish had ever had- and there were a lot of those. This one, however, deserved a special place right on the cover.
Of course, you were worried about him, dammit, you'd been by his side the whole time, someone had to keep telling him how much he should hurry up and get better.
But besides worrying about Foolish, there was another feeling that made your heart hammer heavily against your rib cage. In a last-ditch effort, you balled your hands into fists, pleading with Will across the desk filled with bills and flyers that would be handed out tonight for the next performances. "Can't someone else fill in? Last season, Techno and I worked well together, after all, he's been to so many training sessions that he must know the act," you suggested, leaning further forward in the chair that felt way too big.
The stress was written all over Will's face and you felt bad just burdening him further with your fears, but everything in you opposed the idea of performing with Eret, Eret of all people, the act you had now spent months training for with Foolish.
Will raised a hand to his face, rubbing his index finger and thumb over the bridge of his nose, and for a moment he seemed to actually consider your suggestion until he shook his head. "No, I can't.. I can't change Techno's act last minute, he's been training for his act too, it wouldn't be fair. I just don't understand what your problem is, (y/n). Last year you worked wonderfully with Eret, your number had become our notice board, a representation of us, so well did you two get on. People loved you guys, what changed?"
Memories of soft touches and blue eyes with a shared future shining like the golden stars of the tent pushed their way up from repression, the feeling of free-falling leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, which you pressed tightly shut.
"You can change your last number a little, add some of the newer moves, you both know best what you can create together," Will continued to speak without looking up from his flyers, for if he had but glanced at you, he would have seen the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes and how you strained not to disappear in front of your director into old memories that still had their grip tight around your heart.
"Will, please! There has to be some way-"
"I said no!", Will suddenly interrupted you, his previously calm voice thundering through the small car and the desk shaking as his flat hand hit the dark wood.
As much as you wanted to shrink under his gaze, a childish defiance to get your own way had spread through your thoughts and at the same time as Will you stood up from your chair, glaring angrily at him.
You realized that there was little to no point in arguing with Wilbur; after all, the brunette was at least as stubborn as you, but at the same time he was right. Eret, as one of the best artists, was the only logical replacement for Foolish-a fact that made the hair on your arms stand on end.
"You can't make me do this," you fired back at him, and the moment you uttered the words, you regretted them. Before you could apologize, however, Will had long since sunk back into his seat and turned his attention to the important documents in front of him. He didn't even look at you, didn't even seem interested in your presence, and your frustration grew even more at the disinterest he made you feel.
You clenched your teeth until your jaw ached.
Look at me again, Will, give me another chance, you thought to yourself, but continued to be ignored.
Frustrated, you turned away from him and had just opened the door of the trailer when you heard Will raise his voice again; and this time in a pitch that would brook no argument:
"You're going to perform tonight and the rest of the week with Eret, whether you like it or not, I don't care."
With a frustrated huff, you slammed the door behind you.
Your discussion must have been loud enough to lure the rest of your circus family to the director's trailer, because as you jumped down the steps, several different gazes were on you, some sympathetic, others visibly not understanding why it tormented you so much to have to perform with Eret.
In your rage, you fled across the meadow of the field where you had set up camp, past all the glances that were becoming too much for you, trying to push down the feeling of your heart breaking all over again.
If you had been just a little more attentive, you might have seen the brown curly head that had been leaning against the side of Will's trailer, hearing every word loud and clear, and now disappeared in the direction of the main tent as well.
With Will's cold words circling in your mind, you found yourself in the large circus tent, which, to your relief, welcomed you quietly. None of the others would show up now to interfere; according to the plan, now would be your and Foolish's last rehearsal, though this one had been thrown into the water now.
You let your hands glide over the raised edge of the ring, looking over the countless rows of empty wooden benches and platforms, which in a few hours would be filled once again with excited visitors, visitors who could hardly wait to be transported into another world for an evening free of their problems, and normally there was nothing more pleasing to you than to look into the laughing and amazed faces when your show began, but today something would be missing from it all.... Foolish would be missing.
You knew there was no way Will would change his mind, he had made that abundantly clear in his last words, and you knew it wouldn't be the end of the world without Foolish and performing with another of the talented artists instead.
If it weren't for Eret.
You took off the jacket you'd pulled over your workout clothes for the talk with Will and tossed it carelessly over the red edge of the ring. You didn't have to worry about warming up, you had finished your stretching before Will called you over and threw the rest of your day, as well as your emotions, into turmoil.
On bare feet you walked across the fine sand to the center of the large tent, where a lone, snow-white ring hovered in the darkness a good three feet above the ground, attached to it two silken ribbons as pure a white as the ring itself. As soon as you closed a hand around the cool ring, you felt the ghost of his hand around yours again, and as if you had burned yourself on the metal, you tore yourself away.
You had to bite your teeth hard to keep from immediately starting to cry again. No, you had left that behind, you were already over that... you couldn't allow yourself to fall into old patterns- not when you had to function properly tonight.
You reached for the bar in the top half of the ring again, this time ignoring any feelings that were spreading through you, and braced yourself high enough to sit sideways in the ring. Instantly, the ring began to spin around itself, around and around, slowly but steadily.
As the empty wooden rows of seats before your eyes blended with the white and red stripes of the tent canvas and became one blurry mass, your mind wandered back to a time not too long ago, and yet infinitely far away..
"Come on, trust me"
"Stop pushing me, I'll do it in a minute," you said the last part more to yourself as you stared from the edge of the tiny platform you were standing on, meters high, just below the circus ceiling. Every muscle in your body was tense, your hands gripping the single railing so tightly that your knuckles stood out white.
"Love, don't get lost in your thoughts," Eret called again, and you looked from the floor a dizzying distance away to the brunette sitting in the white ring a few feet from you, one hand around the ribbon-wrapped metal, the other extended invitingly toward you.
"You make it all look so easy," you sighed, taking a step back uncertainly. Eret actually made everything look easy, he had never had any problems learning any new stunt quickly and easily, while you often ended up facing one and the same problem:
Your fears of falling.
It was ridiculous, after all the years that you had been flying and jumping on the trapeze and in the air of the circus tent, to still be afraid of falling, especially when you were practicing and performing with Eret, who would never allow you to get hurt.
And yet your head built up a mental barrier every time.
"I believe in you" Eret said, looking at you with a smile "I know you can do this".
Your grip on the railing loosened and the tension in your shoulders fell away as well. Carefully you took another step back, this time not to escape but to press your toes against the ground below. Placing one leg in front of the other you focused on Eret's outstretched hand, which was now joined by his second.
"Jump, I promise I'll catch you".
And without thinking about it, you leapt forward and jumped.
For a moment there was nothing, only the fear of being forgotten by Eret and that he had broken his promise, only the sound of your falling body in the air. The moment was far too short to really think about what would happen if Eret didn't catch you in time, because before you could even form the next thought, there were two strong hands clasping yours.
You jerked your head up, your vision blurred from the quick movement, and the only thing you could see clearly was Eret's loving smile as he pulled you up to him, as promised, until you could sit on his lap. Pressed flat against his chest, his arms folded behind your back to keep you from falling, you could do nothing but stare into his eyes.
Stars danced in them, golden reflections of single points of light in a bright blue sea, and the longer you looked into Eret's eyes, the clearer something else became in his gaze, something that threatened to overwhelm you, so clear and so close it suddenly seemed.
Not much closer and you could give yourself to him, give yourself to the feelings that were so obvious between you-
"Oh, excuse me."
You almost didn't hear the words at all, lost in the deepest memories, and only the clang of one of the buckets filled with hand chalk as Eret tried to stumble back behind the curtain drew your weary gaze to him.
Instantly, your eyes widened.
He was wearing his workout clothes, tight black leggings that accentuated his long slender legs and one of his many gray shirts tucked neatly into the waistband of his pants. You didn't know how he had managed it, but his otherwise manageable curls were tied into a high braid, except for perhaps two or three recalcitrant strands that seemed to brazenly refuse to be held and hung down into his face.
You used to brush them away from him, or always carried two small hair clips with you, as he constantly forgot his.
At the very bottom of the closet next to your door they still lay, one white clip and one gold clip, probably covered in dust by now, just like the rest of the little mementos of Eret and your time together.
You arched your back and slid down from the ring, landing in the sand with a clearing of your throat, disguised to hide your suddenly raw throat. Without saying anything, you watched as Eret placed the bucket back with the others before the brunette climbed over the edge of the ring and remained seated there.
Though the two of you were only a few feet apart, there was so much more between you. Things unspoken, repressed, ignored - everything pushed you apart, prevented you from even looking him in the face properly.
Instead, you stared at the sand in front of you, trying to ignore the strong tugging in your chest that wanted to get to Eret.
"I didn't mean to interrupt, go ahead," Eret spoke, and surprised due to the gentleness in his voice, you jerked your head up from the suddenly far too interesting sand.
You frowned, waiting for some stupid comment, as you had been doing for a year, but Eret remained silent, continuing to look at you with the same desire in his gaze.
You hated him for that, hated that despite everything he kept looking at you as if he could pull you the stars from the sky, as if you were the most innocent being in this world, because after everything you had done, what you had said, he should hate you and make you feel how much you had hurt him.
You hated him for staying true to his promise of "I will always wait for you" and reminding you every day what a bad person you were.
"We should train together."
You surprised yourself with the suggestion, the words had spilled out of you even before you could think twice about it and now lay in an awkward silence before you both.
Eret raised one of his arched brows, eyeing you in a way that sent goosebumps all over your body. "Are you sure?" he asked, and to your shock, all warmth was gone from his voice.
Uncertainly you took a step back, trying to escape his piercing gaze, while knowing full well, here in the middle of the ring, there was no place to hide yourself or your feelings. As always, even the smallest part of you was on display in front of Eret. He could see everything, from your tense shoulders, to the twitch in your mouth as you pondered your own words, unsure of what to answer now that he had caught you cold.
And as quickly as his vulnerable side had come, it was gone, and his thin lips turned into a smile, even if it looked a little forced. "I mean, are you done with your exercise? Shouldn't we rather talk briefly about what we're going to do tonight?", his words didn't give you their intended reassurance, there was something else in them quite covertly, a reproach that you could understand.
Nevertheless, in a few hours you had to perform in front of an audience, your personal problems had no place in the ring.
It was hard to concentrate when your eyes were constantly searching for Eret and your heart wanted to avoid any contact, if it could be avoided. You were supposed to be getting the ropes and weights for the trapeze and the swing made of light birch wood with the shiny silver cloths on their ropes, ready for your rehearsal, while Eret was stretching and warming up on the wooden floor next to the ring.
Supposed.
Because in the time Eret had taken to warm up completely, you had just managed to accidentally knot and then unknot four of the ropes, and the swing was hanging way too high, even for Eret. Just like the ropes, you felt a knot in your heart and lungs as Eret rushed to your aid and you stood beside him with bated breath, forced to watch near him as he corrected your mistakes, as he so often did, with a steady hand and a slight smile.
You couldn't step away from him fast enough once everything was ready and without consulting him further you went to the other side of the ring where a thin ladder led high under the tent.
You knew Eret's gaze was on you as you began the climb, but you tried to ignore it and continued stubbornly climbing the cold rungs higher and higher. Eret seemed to realize that there was no point in just standing around waiting for you to coordinate further with him, because he checked the ropes one last time. Then he took a running start, pressed his heels into the ground, and ran toward the ring in the middle.
As much as you wanted to concentrate on your own climb, a little peek couldn't hurt, and attracted by Eret's sprint, you looked just in time to see Eret's hands get a grip on the ring. He gave it a quick tug and jumped, the moment one of the weights fell on its side, sending him hurtling up with the ring.
Even from a distance, you could see the two strands of hair falling reluctantly into his face.
It was strange to step on top of the platform and the narrow plank and see Eret instead of Foolish's beaming laughter. While Foolish would now be swinging back and forth, distracting you, Eret sat elegantly in the ring, legs crossed, most likely going over all the forms and exercises in his mind. When he saw you were ready, he smiled at you and sat up straight.
"Are you ready?"
"Are you ready?" whispered Eret in your ear from behind. You hadn't even heard him coming through the thunderous applause of the audience and winced slightly at the sound of his deep voice so close to you. Your heart began to beat faster. It didn't help your nervousness that Eret was gently stroking his fingertips over your free arms and resting his chin on your head.
You pressed closer to him, leaning into the embrace to calm your nerves. "Yes."
From behind the curtain, Wilbur's loud voice rang through the microphone and echoed in the packed tent, vibrating with the excitement of the many people who had squeezed into the rows of seats and now leaned further forward in anticipation.
"Dear audience, my dear children, it is with pleasure that I now introduce the highlight of our evening: the royal couple of the skies!"
People seemed to explode, jumping up from their seats and shouting your names, clapping their hands frantically or drumming their feet on the ground, which began to shake under the mass.
Eret stepped to your side and held out his hand to you. Both your faces reflected the biggest grins, the anticipation and adrenaline of performing now flowing hotly through your veins. Eret shone in the bright lights of the circus tent, beaming like the sun in his golden and sparkling outfit.
"Then let's fly"
What was wrong with you today? You cursed yourself mentally for your emotionality, it had no place in the ring! It was of no use to you to think about old times, if these were banished to the darker sides of your memory. After all, that had been the point. You didn't want your feelings for Eret to make your work harder, and that's why you had broken off contact completely.
So why wouldn't your head stop bombarding you with the beautiful moments?
You shook yourself.
"We can start," you called out to Eret.
Please let this training become normal, was all you told yourself like a mantra.
And for the first half-hour, everything seemed normal. Both Eret and you fell into work mode as soon as you took a running start and jumped off the platform into his waiting arms.
No racing heart, no faltering breath, not even a goosebump flitted over your body as you turned in the air. Okay, maybe you had had a brief trip of your heart once when Eret was just hanging off the ring with his legs holding you by your back so you were looking him straight in the white eyes, but you blocked that out. You didn't have to talk much during practice, the previously arranged choreo, from which you had adopted and restructured many elements from previous years, still sat clearly in both of your minds and so the only comments were about your posture or when you needed a little help from the other.
All was going well until you climbed the ladder for the last repetition and were greeted at the top with the feeling of not being able to breathe.
Your thoughts were all about the fear of jumping into Eret's arms in front of an audience. An audience that was probably happy to see you and Eret together again. They will notice the strange vibes, they will notice that something is different.
Nothing is the same anymore. Your performance will never have the same effect on people as it did a year ago, how are you supposed to have the courage to jump?
They hit you out of nowhere, making you take a step back in shock. Blindly, your hands grabbed the railing, clinging to it hard enough that your fingernails met the heels of your hands and dug lightly into the flesh there.
"Are you all right?" you heard Eret's voice slightly muffled, it was as if you had water in your ears.
"Yes, of course," you answered. Your own voice sounded foreign, far from yourself, like a fake copy.
"Are you sure?" he pecked, and something snapped inside you.
It wasn't even Eret's fault, it never had been. It was your fears that had fought their way to the surface, where they gnawed at your nerves and made you feel all sorts of things. Most of all, though, you were angry at yourself for always wanting to be the unapproachable one, not letting any feelings get in the way of your career, and thus driving away the one person who had taken to your heart.
Nevertheless, you pointed your gun at Eret.
Your head snapped up, sparkling eyes boring into Eret, who had leaned toward you with concern. "Why wouldn't everything be okay?" you almost hissed at him, not recognizing yourself in the ugly words you threw at him "Can we get this shit over with already? I have to get ready for tonight, and I really don't feel like wasting my time here. I never had these jump problems with Foolish."
You regretted everything as soon as it left your mouth, but it had already left its damage.
Eret winced, losing the gleam in his eyes that you normally loved, and with it every bit of vitality was taken out of his posture. He fell into the ring like a doll whose ropes had been cut, holding on only by necessity so as not to fall into the depths.
You had told him all sorts of things a year ago, from excuses why you couldn't come to training, then not to come near him in general, and finally why it would be better if you had a new training partner from now on; none of those conversations had left Eret as beaten as this did now.
Your chest quivered with your rapid, panicked breaths. It felt like you had just run a marathon.
Everything inside you was screaming at you to apologize, wanting to feel that warm smile again, and you wanted to take back the words you said then.
"I can't perform with you anymore, I can't let you distract me".
Instead, you lifted your chin and blinked away the tears that had formed in your eyes after your outburst. You couldn't cry now, not when it was all your fault.
"Shall we continue?"
"Why even force yourself onto the trapeze if you're afraid of falling?"
"What?" You pause.
"Why do you have that moment every workout where you stare frozen into the nothing as if you're waiting for it to come for you?" asked Eret, looking at you blankly "Just explain that to me, then we can end this whole thing. We should have trained enough for opening night"
"Because my trust in you is bigger than the fear of falling" Your answer was no more than a soft whisper in the huge tent where it should have been swallowed by the sounds of your surroundings, and yet you realized that Eret had understood you perfectly.
That spark was back in his eyes, a tiny bit of hope grown by your choice of words.
You, in turn, felt hopeless. Without saying goodbye to Eret, you turned on your heel. It was quite awkward, after all, you had to climb all the way back down the ladder, while Eret remained sitting at the top in the ring. One step after the other you climbed down, but on the last one you slipped slightly from the metal. This little mishap ended in your knee hitting the ladder, and your howl of pain echoed throughout the tent. After that there was nothing for you to hold on to, no reason to stop your tears. All the problems of the whole day, from the humiliating talk with Wilbur to the fight with Eret and that little accident on the ladder were the last straw.
Tears smeared your escape from the tent and ran hot down your cheeks. You didn't care that the circus place was filling up by now and you had to run through the many members of this big family who were in the final preparations. All the shouted questions about your well-being were ignored, they wouldn't be able to help you anyway.
In your trailer, the slamming of the door caused Foolish to jolt up from his nap, squealing, eyes tired, until you drop down next to him on the bed in the small two-room trailer, crying.
"Oh my god, what happened? Are you all right? Did you fall? Did you go to practice?", Foolish ambushed you with questions that you managed to answer with a shake of your head.
Your lip quivered as you tried to explain the situation to him. "Will gave me a new partner because you're not allowed" you sniffled after wiping your nose with the tissue Foolish had given you and calming down a bit "I'm supposed to perform all season with Eret" Saying the name made you howl again.
"Ouhh," Foolish took a deep breath "Now I understand the crocodile tears. That's no reason to cry"
You wrinkled your nose "Then you don't understand anything. I can't perform with him anymore"
Understanding, Foolish nodded thoughtfully. "Because you're still in love with him"
Outraged, you looked at him through a curtain of new tears. Surely he couldn't be serious? "Am not!" you contradicted him, desperately searching for a good reason why you couldn't perform with Eret. All the reasons you could think of were matters of the heart.
But you couldn't be in love with Eret, then you would have spent the whole year ignoring him for absolutely nothing except two broken hearts. You didn't want to see that, it hurt too much to admit it. You were not in love, you just decided not to be.
Two thumbs gently stroked your flushed cheeks, wiping at the sticky remnants of tears before Foolish handed you another handkerchief to wipe your nose. "I was wondering when you'd finally realize it. Took you long enough, although with the size of your stubborn head, I'm not surprised."
If you weren't busy second-guessing every decision you've made in the last 300 days, you would have definitely smacked him for that comment.
"What if my work suffers from a relationship?" you asked quietly before snorting "If it ever comes to that. Eret will never be able to forgive me, my god, even I can't forgive myself."
Foolish rolled his eyes and patted your head, he didn't know exactly how to comfort someone who had lived in ignorance to their feelings, but sometimes he saw Will pat Tommy's head like that when the boy had done his job well. "You can only find that out for yourself. I don't think you're afraid of losing your career, but rather falling if the relationship doesn't work out, which I don't think it will. Besides, Eret is clearly smarter than you, I wouldn't compare you to him."
You looked up, warning him with one gaze and pointed to your chest, "I'm sitting here crying my heart out, and you're making fun of me? Great best friend I've picked there."
"What? I'm not making fun of you, I would never think of it."
"That's right, you've got nothing but stupid ideas floating around," you grumbled. The man next to you was about to object when you tapped lightly against the cast on his leg. "Don't say anything. This is actually your fault, Foosh. It all goes back to you trying to show off in front of Sam. What are you looking at me like that for? I know I'm right... Hey!" Protesting, you tried to fight back against Foolish, who had started pushing you out of bed, muttering to himself, at the mention of Sam the muscleman and sword swallower.
"You help once and get rewarded with something like this" He clicked his tongue and pressed his hand against your face as you struggled. "Come on crybaby. Shouldn't you be getting ready?"
You paused in your movement. Sure enough, dusk had already set in, flooding your trailer in warm reds and pinks. Outside in the square, the first lanterns were already shining, and if you weren't mistaken, there were even visitors walking around.
"Oh fuck."
You had never changed so quickly as you did today. You should get a medal for that, because squeezing into that sparkly white suit was a sport. Fortunately, Foolish sat on your bed and uttered all sorts of phrases that you could use to explain to Eret why you had acted the way you had. That half of these ideas could be scratched for the simple reason that you were guaranteed not to apologize to him with "I was too stupid to know what I was feeling" was not necessarily helpful. But it did feel good to know Foolish was on your side, even if he had to work on his comforting.
"And remember not to cry again, that wouldn't help at all with the performance, you have to see everything after all"
"Yes yes I will try. Oh my heart, I can't believe what I'm doing right now" you talked to yourself while jumping from one foot to the other while putting on your sneakers. "Foolish I can't do this," you howled as you snapped the last latch shut and already had a hand on the doorknob. "What if he hates me? He's going to hate me, I hate myself for it. He won't catch me, what if he doesn't catch me? Foo-"
"It'll be alright!", Foolish interrupted you smiling "Get lost or you'll run out of time".
The door had flown open and you were almost through the frame when you ran back in. Under Foolish's questioning gaze, you ripped at the handle of the small brown dresser next to the door, pulling it open hard enough that the small plant on top began to shake dangerously. You rummaged through all the stuff - why did you have to own so much stuff? - until your fingertips brushed metal.
Holding two hair clips tightly in your clenched fist, you ran across the meadow, past the many dark caravans whose inhabitants had all long since migrated to the large square. At one trailer, a snow-white one with a golden door frame and shutters, you stopped, your free hand raised to knock.
Thump, thump, thump
Your heart beat just as fast as your hand against the door, thump thump thump, in one beat.
Knock knock knock
No response.
Thump thump thump, your feet kept running, faster than you could think and yet every step made you realize more clearly what a mistake you had made then.
Your legs carried you through the ankle-high grass to the colorful fairground that had come to life with the evening. You walked under the tall entrance arch onto the gravel path, under the illuminated large letters of the circus "Cirque des Symphonies". Lanterns lit the crowded square where visitors gathered, moving from one of the many booths whose sales tables offered stuffed animals, homemade candles and souvenirs of the circus to the next. Couples strolled around arm in arm, sat cuddled together on the small Ferris wheel, or had themselves drawn by your painter Niki in front of the big circus tent. Colorful flags, strung from lamppost to lamppost waved in the light breeze, attracting the attention of the many children who ran laughing across the square, or begged their parents for a toy.
The smell of sweet cotton candy tantalized your nose as you scanned the entire square for Eret, because usually he was always mingling with the visitors or sitting on the fence of the petting zoo, introducing your rabbits and chickens to the children. But in the enclosure today was only Wilbur's nephew, Fundy. He shook his head when you asked if he had seen Eret.
No one seemed to have seen the trapeze artist, not your tarot card reader Dream, nor sword swallower Sam, nor your doctor Ponk, both of whom were inquiring about Foolish's welfare when you encountered them. You tried the other acrobatic team of Phil and Techno, horse whisperer George, and fire breather Sapnap, but they all just passed you on, many of them with knowing faces, at your sudden need to find Eret.
You already thought you had asked everyone, when you ran into Tommy and Tubbo, the two youngest members of your troupe, who were handing out balloons to the kids and messing around with Ranboo in front of the ticket booth.
"Of course, he's with Puffy helping her get the animals ready" Gratefully you smiled at Ranboo.
"Do you want a balloon, (y/n)?", Tubbo asked you, holding the many colorful balloons in your face.
"You can have one of mine, too," Tommy interjected.
"Or one of mine"
"Mine are nicer"
"Mine have much more air"
"But (y/n) will like mine more, right (y/n)? (y/n)?"
You hadn't even heard all of the competition between the two boys, but had hurried on directly after the information from Ranboo and were already pushing aside the curtain to the back entrance of the tent when Tommy noticed you were missing.
With the curtain closing behind you, the sounds from outside became quieter, laughter and children's screams were drowned out by the loud beating of your heart and the rushing blood in your ears as you trailed across the sand strewn for the animals. You were about to turn the corner when you heard a deep laugh and stopped abruptly.
"Don't give it much thought," you whispered to yourself.
And stepped out of the shadows.
Just as Ranboo had told you, Eret stood next to Puffy, dressed in his gold skin-tight suit and his brown hair in a braided bun. He looked stunning in the dim light, just as he had a year ago. Ghosts of the past crept up your neck, gnawing their way into your heart and stealing your breath. All that mattered was him, there was no other thing for your thoughts to revolve around.
Outside it got quieter, the crowd started to fill the tent and their voices pushed to you, pushed you.
You didn't have much time.
Slowly, you approached them. Puffy was the first to catch sight of you and, like everyone else, seemed to understand what was going on because she didn't hesitate a bit, wished both of you good luck and disappeared behind a curtain to her animals.
Surprised at the "both of you", Eret turned to you, immediately there was that sadness in his eyes again, even if he smiled sadly at your, matching his, outfit. "Are you ready?" he asked you and you almost turned on your heels, but you didn't want to experience Foolish's wrath at that any less than what you wanted to tell him.
"No" You took a deep breath "No I'm not ready. Not yet. I have something to tell you, maybe I'll be ready after this, but first I want to talk to you", you began, staring into the sand on the ground because you knew you would break down if you had to look Eret in the eyes.
All those years of jumping from trapeze to trapeze, you never felt so much in free fall as you do now.
It was funny, suddenly the jumps you had hesitated before didn't even seem like the one you had in front of you. All the fears, all the worries and panic, sleepless nights tossing and turning, and all the tears you had cried over the absence of Eret in your life, all of that lay beneath you as you cautiously took a step toward Eret.
You had your words ready, they were on your tongue, ready to give them to Eret with your heart when the brunette cleared his throat.
"No matter what you're about to tell me, I want you to know one thing beforehand. For me, nothing has changed since last year. I don't just like you, (y/n).. I am so in love with you that it breaks my heart knowing that you hate me so much you wouldn't even want to work with me. After tonight, I will talk to Will. I'm sure we can find another replacement. One, that can give you the comfort i apparently can't provide"
Had it not been for the thunderous applause of the audience behind the curtain, the breaking of your heart would have probably been heard by everybody. Instead, clapping filled the deafening silence, followed by the onset of the music that always accompanied Will during his entrance.
You opened your mouth, but no words would come out.
The time in which neither of you spoke dragged on crushingly, and yet only a few seconds seemed to have passed before Will's voice sounded through the speakers, giving you the very signal to line up.
No time, you had no time.
"We have to go," Eret whispered, visibly defeated, not even bothering to smile like he was okay anymore. "Let's talk afterwards"
"No," you said urgently "This can't wait any longer."
The pure desperation in your voice seemed to change Eret's mind. Although the first performances had already begun, he turned away from the curtain leading to the ring. Hope blossomed in your chest, growing through Eret's waiting gaze. You moved closer until he noticed the trembling of your hands, still tightly gripping the hair clips.
"I love you Eret, I love you so much it hurts to think about what all could have been if I hadn't been so stupid," you cried out, once again close to crying, which only made you more emotional because you weren't supposed to cry after all, you had promised Foolish. "Eret, I was so stupid. I never wanted no contact, but that seemed easier than telling you how I felt or being around you every day when I was burned by your presence alone. I was too much of a coward, still am, because it took me so long to understand how much of a fuck up I was and admit it, but I can't live in that lie anymore. You don't deserve that."
It was almost impossible to hold back the tears, but somehow you managed. Somehow you even managed to stretch out a trembling hand to Eret. "Please," you begged him, "I don't hate you and there is no other person I trust like you. I give you my life and my heart"
Before you knew it, Eret had pulled you close to him by your outstretched hand. His lips found yours faster than you could realize what was happening and when you did, it was overwhelming.
Eret tasted like cotton candy and petrichor, and he kissed you as if the world was about to end. Startled, a gasp escaped you, adrenaline pumping through your veins as his hands held you tight, preventing you from sinking into his arms as your trembling knees indicated.
You fell. Fell for Eret, his hands that never wanted to let you go again, you fell for his lips and the leap of your heart every time he kissed you again and again, every time with a wider smile forming against your mouth.
"I love you", he muttered"I love you, I love you, I love you"
Eret pressed his forehead against yours, white pupils wandering across your face in disbelief.
In the background, the drums started beating.
In the same beat as your heart, in the same beat as Erets.
For the first time in a year, you were in a rhythm, on the same page.
"I have something for you"
"There can be something better than your heart and your life?" Eret sniffed, wiping one tear out of his eyes.
At the sight of the hair clips, another tear rolled down Eret's powdered cheeks, and after you gently pinned his loose hair strands back, he pulled you into another kiss that left you breathless.
You almost missed Will's announcement, the calling of both your names. Your heart leaped in your chest as you felt Eret's hand in yours. Taking one last deep breath, you tried to focus on something other than the feel of his lips on yours and looked up at him.
"Are you ready? Then let's fly."
#dream smp fanfiction#dream smp imagine#dream smp writing#dsmp fanfiction#dsmp imagine#dsmp x reader#dream smp x reader#dsmp x you#dream smp x you#eret fanfiction#eret x reader#eret fanfic#eret x you#circus au#friends to lovers#friends to strangers#dsmp oneshot#dream smp oneshot#eret oneshot
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Veilder: "I commissioned this piece from my dear friend as a sort of How to Train Your Dragon AU. In it, Childe (Ajax) was banished from his village after he fell into the Abyss and has been living in the forests around Morepesok ever since. It is in these forests that have become his home that he one day encounters a great beast fallen from the sky and, slowly but surely, befriends it. This would be the scene where the dragon (Zhongli) finally allows him through his shield. The idea's been in my head for ages but is as-of-yet still unwritten. However, I did manage to whip out a little teaser to accompany this art? Who knows if I'll ever actually write this, but this is at least a little sample. ^_^"
(Readmore for the snippet written by @veilder - Thanks so much for commissioning me Veilder! I feel like I've learned a lot while painting this, and it was a lot of fun!)
The air was crisp in the evening glow and the temperature had taken a sharp dive. Up above, dark clouds were rolling in over the horizon, steadily closing in on the Snezhnayan forest. More snow soon, Ajax thought as he cinched his cloak tighter. That was fine. He could weather his harsh homeland.
No, what made him worry was how the creature would fare, especially if that dark portent brought on a blizzard. Ajax knew far too well the dangers of being caught in such a storm—had almost succumbed to one early on in his exile!—and he didn’t want to see the strange beast fall to such a thing.
Despite the weeks that had gone by since its abrupt entry into his life, Ajax still had no idea what exactly it was? The scales that covered it made him think reptile, its long, sinuous body like that of a snake or lizard. But the great mane of fur at its neck suggested some sort of mammal? Ajax couldn't say one way or the other. The season was harsh as winter descended over Snezhnaya and that traveling merchant would not come again til the spring thaw. There was no one he could ask and, well... To be honest, he wasn't sure even the most traveled wanderers would be able to tell him. The heavy aura the creature projected, the intelligence in those slitted eyes, the way it almost seemed to understand him when his curiosity had him returning time and time again, all these signs seemed to point at this beast being something... other.
Even as Ajax stealthily approached the crater, taking care not to let his boots crunch the snowy ground, he found the creature's eyes on him already, those ancient, fathomless pools of amber staring at him from behind the constantly-shifting barrier. Its senses were as scarily sharp as always. He’d never once been able to take it off guard, despite his mastery of the terrain. Ajax knew this forest like he knew his own limits, like he knew the Vision at his hip, but under the rarified glow of this beast's eyes, his woodcraft was like nothing. It was enough to fill him with equal parts wariness and giddiness, and both for the same reason.
Ajax let a smile steal across his lips as he tentatively slid down the shallow embankment. "Yo!" he called out as he approached the barrier. The creature watched him as he neared, uncoiling the solid length of its body to scrutinize him more closely. Ajax did not falter as the beast's head approached, only gave it a jaunty wave and a grin. "Still here, eh? Decided you just couldn’t get enough of me?"
The beast snorted in what Ajax could only deem amusement, turning its head to level him with a side-eye so piercing he couldn't help but laugh in return. "Aw, don't give me that look, Солнце! What's a little jest between friends, eh?"
And that seemed to give the beast pause, it's massive form stilling as completely as the stone that surrounded it. Then slowly, deliberately, it turned back to face him head-on, drawing itself closer than ever before. Despite himself, Ajax felt a flash of apprehension. Not since that first night he'd approached the beast after it had unceremoniously landed in his forest had he ever truly feared it attacking him, but the proximity to such a large creature was enough to make anyone feel a flash of nerves.
But the beast only gives him a delicate sniff before rearing back, its entire body rising up from the loosened earth that had been its bed all these weeks. Ajax' heart stutters in his chest as the glow around it grew stronger for a brief moment before, with a grinding shudder, the barrier fell, the glowing steles falling dormant at last.
Ajax knew his eyes were wide as he stared up at the magnificent beast for the first time unimpeded, startled to realize that the golden glow surrounding it came not only from the barrier it had raised, but also from the creature itself. Each jagged ridge along its spine, the horns upon its head, the tufted tail fashioned like stylized clouds, all of them emitted that same amber warmth. And from those eyes, too, burned a powerful gold, something reassuring, something safe. Ajax felt a rush of contentment fill him as the creature stared him down, a rush of warmth inundating a place within him that had long since been broken. He stared up, awed and amazed, as the creature moved towards him and felt not the slightest whisper of fear even as it set its wicked talons upon the large boulder he always leaned against. The serpentine figure coiled the rest of its body in a loose circle around both Ajax and the boulder, wrapping the entire length of its body around his much smaller form. But even surrounded on all sides, at the mercy of a creature far larger and infinitely more powerful than him, Ajax couldn't help but feel... at ease. Some instinct had wrapped around him, an inherent knowledge that he had nothing to fear. And when a droning rumble sounded from the creature—as if the very earth itself were given voice!—Ajax felt the headiness overtake him.
When the great beast lowered its head to regard him face to face for the first time, Ajax couldn't help but laugh, overwhelmed and delighted. "Does this mean I was right?" he asked cheekily. "Come on, just admit I'm your favorite already!"
And hand to heart, the creature rolled its eyes at him! There was not one shadow of doubt left to Ajax that whatever manner of beast this was, it understood him perfectly. And it had—consciously!—drawn close. To him! To the Cursed One, the Havoc Bringer, the Shadowkin. Ajax was baffled, was humbled, was so egregiously elated, and he reached out without thinking, only an earnest desire to touch guiding his hand.
But the movement was swift and the beast recoiled, rearing back as that hand drew too close. And Ajax realized just how presumptuous he was being. A wave of embarrassment washed over him as he froze in place, hand hovering awkwardly in front of him. "Oh, I, uh... Sorry," he said, squeezing his eyes shut as his cheeks heated. Slowly, he started to withdraw his hand. He should've known better. Despite this show of trust, he was still tainted by Abyssal energy. He couldn't be trusted not to corrupt everything around him, even this primordial being that shone like the sun. A few weeks spent bothering the beast didn’t change that. Days spent testing its unbreakable barrier and yet more regaling it with tales he had never been able to tell anyone before. His foolish desire for companionship—even it it was some primordial beast!—had almost been enough to make him forget what he was. Ajax, in his selfishness (his loneliness), had almost made a dire mistake.
But those spiraling thoughts came to an abrupt halt as the air around Ajax shifted, warm, ridged scales appearing under his retreating palm. His breath hitched at the sensation and, not daring to hope, he tentatively cracked on eye open.
The beast was watching him, golden eyes focused entirely on his diminutive form. Ajax' hand rested on its snout, on the nasal ridges between the beast's nostrils, and it was rumbling even louder now than before, the ground beneath his feat listing with minor tremors.
"С-Cолнце?" Ajax queried, stunned.
The beast huffed out yet another laugh, the air around it glowing brighter. Like an affectionate fox, it nuzzled its enormous head into his hand, golden eyes slipping shut at last as it heaved a contented sigh. And though far above the clouds had finally overtaken the night sky and the first flakes had begun to fall, Ajax felt not a one. The air was warm, both literally and figuratively, and his heart was, for once, its match.
And just like that, the words of his father dissipated, the cries of the villagers as they drove him out the distant memory it should be. Here and now, he was not the village pariah, bereft of home and hearth. No, here he stood on a cold winter's night, elated, emboldened, warm in every way he needed.
With an enthusiastic whoop, Ajax surged forward to scratch both hands along the beast's muzzle, so delirious with the idea of being chosen by this great creature that he could no longer contain himself. "I'll take that as a yes, Солнце!" he laughed. And with joy loosening his tongue, he continued with uncharacteristic sincerity, "And I'm glad to know it. Because…” He brought his forehead to rest upon the creature’s scales, sucking in a large breath. “Because I’ve very much enjoyed our talks, you know? It’s been… a long, long time since I’ve had the privilege of companionship. I…” He drew back, leaning forward to huge the beast as best he could. “I appreciate your company, Cолнце. Far more than you might know.” And Ajax chuckled again, running tainted hands along the beast’s scales without fear of repercussions. “I suppose that means you're my favorite, too."
The creature only continued to rumble, casting a brilliant amber hue across the crater and to the whitened landscape beyond. And there at the heart of the winter wilds, human and beast huddled together as the blizzard raged. They were two, bonded in trust, steady lights in the dark.
They would face the morning together.
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Author's note: Cолнце means "Sunshine."
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Happy 28th!
A new month - so new fics for you to find and enjoy! I can’t say it enough: all the authors in this fandom are truly amazing! Thank you so much for continuously sharing your hard work with us ♥
Here are the 14 fics I read and enjoyed this month:
A Hungry Heart | jacaranda_bloom | Great British Bake Off AU - famous/not famous - cliches - pining - angst - smut - 27k
Harry Styles, florist and Great British Bake Off contestant, loves many things. He loves his flower shop, he loves baking, and there’s also that little crush he has on pop star Louis Tomlinson.
But when Louis arrives on set as the surprise guest judge, Harry’s worlds collide. Throw in a cup of cuteness, a teaspoon of teasing, and a pinch of pining, and there’s all the ingredients for an epic love story, or absolute chaos.
Or the one where the Bake Off tent has never been so hot, and it’s got nothing to do with what’s in the ovens.
Teenage Rebellion Never Worked Out So Well | panda_bear21 | arranged marriage - friends to lovers - 55k
“I’m an adult!” He glanced down at Harry, who seemed anything but at the moment, where he was definitely on the brink of a temper tantrum. “We’re both adults!”
Jay glanced to Anne again, before breathing out a heavy sigh. “Yes, but you’re both adults that do not have jobs and who live off of our money… Which means, you have to do what we say… or you’ll have to find a new place to live.”
“You wouldn’t do that.” Louis dared, hoping his glare was enough to guilt trip his mother into calling the whole thing off. Or to tell them that it had all just been a huge joke and they weren’t actually being forced into marrying a complete stranger.
“Oh, but we would.”
Or the super cliché arranged marriage fic where things escalate way too quickly.
Heartbreak Hotel | noellehenry | time travel - 1950s - historical - pining - 29k
British popstar Harry Styles is thrown back in time after an unfortunate accident on stage. He wakes up in a small town in the US in the 1950's, where life is slightly different from 2015.
With help from Niall and Liam he tries to adjust to his new life; without mobile phones and a world wide web to keep up with the world and where showing interest in nice cute boys with bright blue eyes is a no-no.
Time travel and 1950's AU where Liam is an English teacher, Niall owns the Best Song Ever record shop, James runs Corden's Diner, Elvis fan Louis is the cute boy with the blue eyes and Harry..... just tries to survive really.
Playdate | Larry_you_know | getting together - misunderstandings - kid fic - fluff - 7k
When Harry’s sister asked him to pick up her son at a kids' birthday party he sure didn’t expect to be stunned by the blue-eyed brother of the birthday twins. Using his nephew to see Louis again, he falls hard and fast. But how does one turn a playdate into a real date?
tread lightly on my ground | fairytalelights | a/b/o - mpreg - touch-starved - miscommunication - friends to lovers - touch deprivation - smut - 21k
No, that's the tragic part of this, the part that makes Harry feel like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. The father of his baby is exactly right, exactly who he always imagined himself having kids with. He just imagined them married, bonded. Happy.
He didn't imagine them barely talking, tip-toeing around each other because neither of them is brave enough to talk about what happened between them. He didn't imagine the father of his child not loving him back.
or, the one where Harry is having Louis' baby, but Louis doesn't know it's his.
Not Ready for This | berzerkshires | kid fic - single parents - smut - 18k
Prompt for HLSummerFest2021: Louis and Harry are both single fathers and their children decide to go out on a date. The dads insist on meeting one another before they agree to let their child go out on this date.
Secret's Safe With Me | alltheselights | boss/employee relationship - secret relationship - toxic relationship (not h/l) - slow burn - smut - 59k
But here’s the thing about secrets that people tend to forget—they’re deeply personal things. Tiny pieces of information about someone that they keep locked inside and only let out at certain moments, or to certain people, or not at all.
Secrets have value, you see, even if only to the person holding them inside. If those secrets were to be told, if those tiny jagged pieces of someone, the parts they hold most dear, the parts they hide out of shame or fear or regret—if those pieces were exposed to someone, it would have the potential to change everything.
When bad turbulence and three glasses of wine have Louis spilling all of his secrets to the man sitting next to him on the plane, it's embarrassing, sure, but it's also easy enough to shrug off and block out of his memory forever. Or at least, it was until Louis went into work on Monday morning and realized that the man from the plane is the new CEO of his company.
Marks On My Baby | thinlines | a/b/o - college/university - friends to lovers - hurt/comfort - angst - fluff - smut - 32k
“What’s that?” Harry hadn’t meant for his voice to sound so sharp and even he winced at his own outburst. It was more of a hiss than an actual question, but for now, he was too surprised to care.
“What’s what?” The omega asked, eyebrows raised and lips pinched. Harry knew he was probably mad at him for interrupting his rant, but the alpha was too on edge to bother pleasing the boy.
“On your neck… Your bondmark spot…” His voice had grown low and deep, almost a growl.
Who knew a single love bite on his omega friend's neck would trigger Harry this much? Certainly not the alpha himself.
Rogue | Laventriloque | a/b/o - werewolves - minor character death - hurt/comfort - past abuse - past rape/non-con - soulmates - smut - 95k
“No, Liam! How many times do I have to… before you finally… NO WAY … a rogue in our pack?… cannot trust him … don’t care to know him … have enough members to worry about.”
He hears more indistinct shouts before he hears pretty clearly: “His own pack didn’t want him!”
Sitting here, his precious bag between his feet and everyone in the room looking at him, some with pity, some with disdain, some with curiosity, Louis feels like someone squeezed his heart in their hands and isn’t letting it go. He wills his head to stay up high and his posture to stay confident. He will not flee the room. He will not let that stupid lump in his throat get the better of him. He will stay here until Liam returns. He will take the rejection in stride and move on. Like he’s been doing all his life."
--
Louis is a rogue Omega who's suffered through rejection and abuse for the biggest part of his life. He stumbles onto the Styles pack, quite possibly the kindest one he's ever met.
indian summer | docklands | strangers to lovers - hurt/comfort - banter - smut - 30k
Harry runs a smoothie shop, which also happens to be an ever-moving caravan. He spends one week in each location and drives straight to the next, always eager for adventure. It isn't until his van breaks down and he needs to call for a mechanic that he starts to ponder his life choices. Louis, the said mechanic, is an anchor in Harry's wild sea, but his hard metal might be too much for Harry's unpredictable antics.
A Silver Lining In A Storm (You Were Lightning, I Was Born) | FallingLikeThis | arranged marriage - royalty - a/b/o - mpreg - minor character death - murder - non-graphic violence - angst - hurt/comfort - 7k
Omega Prince Harry had always known that he was going to have an arranged marriage. But after the death of his first fiancé, a man who turned out far worse than Harry thought possible, his subsequent marriage to the man's brother leaves Harry finding it difficult to trust that everything will work out. Especially considering the only responsibility he’s aware of is to give his husband, the future king, an heir.
A Twist of Fate | myfearlesslou | a/b/o - strangers to lovers - soulmates - angst - 35k
Since the moment Harry presented as an omega, all he's ever wanted was to have a baby. Fate had another idea in mind for him. Giving up on trying to conceive, he decides to adopt a new born baby boy. After months of loving and caring for the boy, a strange man comes into his life, taking him by surprise. Not wanting to lose the child he's loved from the moment he laid eyes on him, Harry does whatever he can to keep the boy safe and in his arms. Even if that means following the handsome stranger to a part of the woods he's never seen before.
Trust Me Tonight | 28sunflowers | historical - royalty - regency - arranged marriage - first time - mpreg - pwp - 10k
After Harry’s eighteenth birthday, his father calls him into a meeting to say that he is to be married to Prince Louis of France in just over a week.
Harry is excited, of course. The arrangement is better than any he could’ve hoped for, with such a young, handsome and kind husband.
There is just one issue: Harry doesn’t know what happens on his nuptials, or how to get pregnant to give Louis the heir that he needs.
i got a heart (but i don't got a soul) | tempolarriefics | mythical beings Á creatures - enemies to lovers - childhood friends - famous/not famous - soulmates - angel/demon relationship - demon/human relationship - 19k
“We’re soulmates.”
Louis’ eyes flick from the tattoo back to Harry’s face, where his eyes are shining with excitement. Louis wonders if he is supposed to feel excited, too. He’s supposed to feel something, surely, besides his usual bitterness for Harry. He thinks back to how Lottie had described meeting Sam, how she had known in her heart that he was meant for her even before he said his phrase.
He can’t help but wonder if he would be feeling differently if he hadn’t gone and sold his soul.
Or, the one where louis sells his soul before meeting his soulmate, harry is a popstar with a heart of gold, niall is inadvertently responsible for harry's boners, liam is a meddling angel, and zayn is a demon who made a mistake
#28th appreciation#fic rec#my fic rec#my reads#monthly fic rec#monthly reads#larry fics#completed fics
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body of mine | Seokjin (M)
→ summary: It’s the night before Seokjin’s birthday and you, his ever-reliable witch slash roommate, have accidentally forgotten to get him a gift. Good thing you know magic then, right? Ten wishes shouldn’t be too hard to handle…
{or alternatively: learning the importance of living a marie kondo lifestyle, but in hindsight}
→ genre: shifter!au, magic!au, humor/crack, smut
→ warnings: jin is your magical hamster familiar, jin is chaotic (ofc), magical mischief that only zee could come up with, aphrodisiac sex, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), slightly rough sex, dom!jin if you squint, hair pulling, jin doesn’t wrap up his peepee (pls practice safe sex u guys), dirty talk, breeding kink??
→ words: 16.9K
→ a/n: IDK WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE ORIGINAL POST BUT HERE IT IS!! IM SO SORRY BUT HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY @jincherie PLEASE IM GOING TO CRY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS (pls send me your thots i suffered greatly for this fic i’m actually dying appa yip yip)
Whoever told you that keeping a hamster as a familiar was a good idea must have been an idiot.
It’s you – you are the idiot. Every one of your friends had warned you about the little vermin. They had begged you to kick him out the moment you found him taking a hamster-sized dump on your prized foxgloves.
You’d been in the middle of pruning the yallows in your garden when you heard a tiny squeak! to your right. When you pushed the foliage away, you saw a small hamster, cheeks puffed up with its little fists clenched by its sides, as pellet after pellet of tiny shits were pushed out of its tiny ass and onto your plants.
You brought him into your home, already making up your mind that you’d keep him as a pet. You have been feeling a bit lonely these days; surely, a tiny little hamster won’t be too much of a problem to take care of, right? You’re so excited that you even invite your friends over to behold your newfound darling.
“I’m going to kill that tiny bastard,” Yoongi hissed the moment he made eye contact with the hamster, his pupils dilating and fluffy cat ears tensing, ready to attack. You could see his claws begin to extend, so you made sure to place your new friend out of his reach. Lucky for you, Yoongi had the arm span of a toddler.
“Oh, c’mon! He’s so fucking cute though,” you cooed, tickling the hamster’s belly. It squeaked happily, nudging your finger to scratch the underside of its ears. Yoongi hissed at it from behind Namjoon’s back, his fingernails digging painfully into the gentle giant’s shoulders. The bespectacled witch didn’t even seem to bat an eye.
“Y/N, I’m all for keeping magical pets and whatnot, but I have to agree with Yoongi… That hamster has too much bastardous energy,” Namjoon said, wincing when the hamster begins munching on the sleeves of your cloak in earnest. You continued to squeal in delight, positively endeared by the cute little ball of fur in your palms.
Due to your magical abilities, you had sensed that this little hamster had magic in his veins and you guessed that he must have either been a shifter or an intellectually augmented animal. You guessed that he’s the former, much like how Yoongi is a cat shifter as well. Ever since Namjoon had befriended Yoongi and the two became partners, you admit that you’ve always been a little jealous of their natural camaraderie. You had long since yearned for someone who could assist you in your magical apothecary, but more importantly, someone you could share your time with.
You were optimistic; perhaps when the little hamster learned to shift into its human form, then you could truly begin your journey towards friendship. You’re sure that the man behind the hamster must be just as cute and lovely.
Speaking of learning to shift—
“What? You mean me?” Yoongi asked, craning his head over Namjoon’s shoulder, his curiosity getting the better of him but still remaining a safe distance away from you and the hamster. “What about learning to shift?”
“Did you just learn one day? I want to get Mr. Hamster over here to turn into a human so I can speak to him,” you explained, but the cat shifter narrows his eyes distrustfully.
“I don’t want that vermin to gain the ability to speak. I can just tell no one is going to enjoy what he has to say,” he sniffed. He growled lowly, the sound so deep and feral that you are momentarily disarmed by his hostility. Namjoon had to rub the back of his ears for a second, forcing Yoongi to calm down until his growl softened into a purr.
“Well, Yoongi can’t control his shifting abilities quite yet. I have to… forcibly change him, if you will,” Namjoon explained, watching Yoongi with loving eyes as he gently nuzzled his head into the witch’s hand. He beckoned you closer and you took a tentative step forward, keeping the hamster behind your back just to be safe. “Watch,” he said simply, as his hand trails lower and lower until it reached the back of Yoongi’s neck and he–
Poof! Namjoon simply tickled the back of Yoongi’s neck and a puff of purple smoke revealed a munchkin cat in its wake. His soft gray and white fur bristled in surprise, his teeth bared at Namjoon as he meowed in contempt. Namjoon ignored all of this, gently picking up the tiny cat and cradling him in his arms like a baby. Immediately, the shifter relaxed, eyes closing contentedly as he burrowed deeper into Namjoon’s chest.
“Woah,” you said, for lack of better words. You shook your head, gazing at the two in wonder. “I didn’t know Yoongi has a fucking eject button.”
“Yep. I sure hope you don’t abuse this knowledge, by the way,” Namjoon warned, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes told you that he probably wouldn’t mind if you did. Knowing you, there was no question that you’d take any and every opportunity to annoy the cat shifter. “If this hamster is the same, then surely it has a similar tick. Since it’s small too, I’m sure it’ll be easy to find its spot.”
“Speaking of,” you piped up, staring curiously at him. “How… did you find out where Yoongi’s spot was? Didn’t you meet him as a human?”
Namjoon shrugged, but there’s a soft pink tint coloring the tops of his ears. “Umm… Coincidence?”
You squinted at him. “Sure,” you agreed, not wanting to know why he seemed so embarrassed. You turned back to the furry matter at hand, lips pursing as you gazed upon the hamster. Surely, there should be an easy way to figure this out…
You began to roll the small hamster in your hand like a pancake, twisting and pulling the lil guy until it started squeaking in protest. You made sure not to handle it too roughly, so you were a bit surprised at how dramatically the hamster was screaming. “Just another moment, baby…” you murmured. At the sound of the pet name, the hamster paused in its squirming, staring wide-eyed at you with its tiny mouth ridiculously agape. You arched a brow, amused at the aghast expression on its face.
“Well, that settles it. You’re definitely human, by the looks of it,” you commented, poking it lightly on the nose. The hamster scrunched up its face just as a soft pink smoke started to envelop its tiny body. You coughed harshly, your sinuses tickled by the strong scent of caramel and mint. “W-well, I think I found its spot,” you pointed out helplessly, eyes watering as you tried to keep them open.
The hamster’s body was growing ridiculously hot, forcing you to drop it on your kitchen counter. You hissed, sucking on your burned appendages as you wait for the smoke to subside. Beside you, Namjoon had Yoongi held tightly in his arms, his back turned away to keep the smoke away from their faces. “Y/N, get some clothes quickly. He’s going to be cold when he finishes transforming,” was all he said, his free hand covering his nose. “This is probably going to be its first shift in a while!”
You’re still completely flabbergasted, frozen in place. “What?” you replied dumbly, standing stock still as you waited for the smoke to dissipate. As more and more of it cleared, you noticed two pairs of long legs where there originally had been none. You waved your hand a bit, fanning the remaining fumes away from your nose, allowing you to gaze upon a very naked and very tall man sitting primly on your kitchen counter.
You and the man stared each other down, neither of you blinking nor backing down. After a few moments, the man smiled brightly at you, his cheeks bunching up much like how he did in his hamster form. “Hello, human,” he greeted, extending a hand towards you. You took it dazedly, still staring wide-eyed at him. “My name is Seokjin. I suppose this means I’m going to be your familiar from now on.”
Your gaze traveled downwards, your hands still clasped together with his. “You’re naked,” you said plainly.
He followed your gaze. “I suppose I am,” he mused, shrugging his shoulders. He was incredibly wide; it almost made no sense that he was a hamster just a few seconds ago. What did he do, bench press sunflower seeds all day? “I am also incredibly beautiful, but we can continue stating the obvious another day.” He released your hands, clasping them together with a beatific smile. “C’mon, human! Bring me your finest garments because my handsomely sculpted testicles are starting to shrivel up from the cold.”
Behind you, you could hear Yoongi hissing loudly in response.
And from that day forward, your adventures of living with the biggest nuisance in the world had begun.
x x x x x
[December 3, 11:39 PM]
Okay, maybe calling him a nuisance is a bit too mean… He’s not that bad. Although, you are sure that Seokjin would have gladly nipped you in the tit if he ever found out you thought so lowly of him. Which you don’t.
Usually.
Except when he’s being annoying, which is all the time. For example:
“Stop fucking biting, you little furball,” you grouse, flicking the hamster in the stomach. He gasps in response, or at least, you assume he had gasped since hamsters don’t exactly have the same vocal cords that humans do. What you do know, however, is that Seokjin seems particularly adamant to be irritating tonight, despite your numerous threats to snip his tiny hamster balls should he continue to pester you.
Unfortunately, none of your usual intimidation tactics work, thus prompting you to grab the small rodent and squeeze him like a squeaky toy. (And what do you know—he even squeaks like one too!)
“Will you stop bothering me? You know I’m busy.” You squint angrily at him, scowling when Seokjin looks back at you with faux innocence. This lil bitch wouldn’t know innocence if it shoved a finger up his ass! “You’ve been more annoying than usual. You even tried parkouring over my herb bottles even though I’ve told you numerous times that’s off limits!”
You feel only slightly bad for scolding him; after all, you are in the midst of preparing a particularly difficult potion for one of your clients tomorrow. Seokjin knows this, and you even specifically told him not to bother you until you finished for the night. While he often did like to interrupt your work for “life or death situations” such as “cuddling” or “spoon-feeding him some pudding,” he usually leaves you alone to do your work when you’re faced with tougher jobs. Today doesn’t seem to be the case as he nibbles ferociously on your sleeves, desperate for you to listen to whatever nonsense he wants to convey.
Rolling your eyes (albeit you admit you do it out of fondness), you gently take the little hamster into your hands, placing him on your kitchen floor. You make sure the stove for your potion making is turned off before you turn back to him, honking his button nose and waiting for him to shift completely.
Since it’s no longer his first time shifting, it only takes Seokjin a few seconds to transform into his human self, his large frame quickly taking up most of the space of your cramped kitchenette. He accidentally bumps his head into one of your hanging potted plants, causing him to yelp in surprise rather than actual pain. He glares pointedly at your orchids before switching that ire onto you, his normally saccharine brown eyes filled with thinly veiled contempt.
“Took you long enough,” he sniffs, poking you not-too gently in the cheek. He folds his arms, appearing to you like a child throwing a tantrum. “Well?”
You raise a brow, covertly turning on your stove once more to resume your potion-making. “Well what?” you say, stirring your small cauldron from the corner of your eye. Seokjin halts your movements instantly, pulling your arm away and half-dragging you towards your living room.
“H-hey! That potion is really sensitive, so let me go—”
“It’s almost midnight,” is all he says before dumping you unceremoniously on your old sunken couch. You grunt from the impact, but he doesn’t apologize for his gruffness (as he never has). You peer up at him, scowling slightly at his unexpectedly cryptic remark.
“And so? This potion is due for pick-up in two days and I’ll need to steep it for another 24 hours before I can even think to package it–”
Instead of replying, Seokjin takes his phone out of his pocket and thrusts the screen towards you. You look at it in confusion, confronted with the sight of his lock screen without any explanation. “It’s… 11:43?”
He rolls his eyes, though you notice a slight hint of disappointment clouding his expression. “And what about the date?” he pushes, lips pursed thinly into a line.
He’s trying to get you to understand without saying it outright – a habit of his that he’s acquired ever since he started hanging out more with Yoongi. Though the two are hardly considered friends, even Seokjin has to admit that being near the cat has caused him to pick up a thing or two, with his tsundere tendencies being one of the first.
You, on the other hand, are forced to play along with his antics. You know that it is December 3. As you try to rack your head for anything you might have missed, you’re pretty sure you’ve accomplished all your chores for today, save for the current potion brewing for the customer coming in two days. You think back on your day, listing off all the things you had done.
You had met up with Namjoon to pick up more herbs from his shop, you delivered more mana potions to the local apothecary, you passed by the street market to buy more sunflower seeds for Seokjin… What on earth could you be forgetting?
“I sincerely hope you’re joking, you know.” Seokjin interrupts your train of thought, breaking you from your trance. When you look back at him, you find that his annoyance has cleared. Hurt replaces his expression, his bottom lip trembling slightly as he waits for you to realize.
When it appears that you won’t be noticing anytime soon, he heaves a heavy sigh, eyes closing in defeat. His voice cracks when he says, “Fine. It’s fine. Whatever. I’ll just… Go to my room. Don’t worry about breakfast tomorrow because I’m gonna sleep in.” And with that, he swivels away from you, shoulders hunched forward as he quietly makes his way to his quarters.
Left shocked and even more puzzled, your gaze is stuck where he had just been moments ago, anxiety and guilt rising in your chest as you try harder to remember what it is that caused Seokjin to shut you out like that. In your seven months of living together, not once has he ever looked so dejected, as the handsome shifter often liked to push your buttons and tease you whenever you mess up. This is clearly not like the other times, so whatever you forgot must pertain to Seokjin himself.
“Am I missing something? Did I forget to season his dinner again?” Although it is entirely too plausible that you did, you highly doubt Seokjin would be that upset at having a bland meal. So what else could it…?
Just as you’re about to give up and beg Seokjin to tell you what you had forgotten, your phone beeps, a new text from Namjoon arriving just in time. You flick it on, your brain taking a moment to fully grasp the words you were trying to read.
from: joonieboobie
to: y/n
hey y/n! are you gonna spend the entire day with seokjin tomorrow? yoongi and i figured that you’d do something special for him on his bday, so tell seokjin that we’ll treat him to a birthday dinner the next day instead. don’t have too much fun, okay? use protection LMAO
Shit.
You gasp suddenly, hand flying to your mouth as horror washes over you. Did Namjoon just say… bday?! Now that he mentions it, you realize that today is December 3rd, which means…
“Tomorrow is December 4th,” you whisper to yourself. You jump out of the couch, scrambling towards your kitchen at a wicked pace. Sweat begins to form at the back of your neck as you run over to your wall calendar, where lo and behold, tomorrow’s date is circled in blood-red ink. Circled by you, even. Holy shit holy shit holy shit–
No wonder Seokjin was so hurt. You’re a terrible, foul, no-good witch! The absolute worst person in the world! How on earth could you forget your own familiar’s birthday?
“Jesus fuck, I’m screwed,” you groan, slumping over your kitchen counter in defeat. You don’t even care that your potion has long since boiled over—not when you’ve already made a bigger mistake just now. God, you’re such a clumsy bitch; what’s the point of being a potion maker who helps cure other people’s maladies if you can’t even fix your shortcomings?
“I can fix this. I can fix this. I can—” You chant this multiple times to yourself as you rush to your nearby bookshelf, pulling out every book you own to find a last-minute gift idea. Surely, there’s something in these books that can help you make it up to Seokjin, right? You’ve made almost every potion there is under the sun, surely there is something you can brew that can bring back the smile on your lovably goofy familiar?
You’ll pour over all of these books if you have to. Despite your forgetfulness, your love for your familiar rings true; you would do anything for him, whatever he might ask.
A thought passes through your mind, but you shut it down for now. A last resort, you think grimly to yourself. You have a few hours left before he wakes up, after all. You’ll find something, you’re sure.
x x x x x
[December 4, 9:14 AM]
It turns out you do not find anything, after all. A halo of books surrounds you on your living room floor, your worn fingers littered with papercuts and ink stains after spending the whole night looking for a suitable gift for Seokjin. Everything just seems too regular to be a gift, though you suppose you’re only picky because you know that Seokjin is pickier. He’d whine for days if you gave him just any gift, and nothing grinds your gears more than having a sulking hamster eating the plants in your garden.
“Grandeur,” you can imagine him saying, nose upturned in that snooty way of his. “I require the most exquisite of presents. I, after all, am above peasantry. I cannot even stand the taste of wooden chopsticks upon my silver tongue.”
Frankly, you have no idea how he’d gotten to become such a prick so haughty, given that you know that he used to live on the streets before he had met you. Regardless, you’ve always been the type of person to be a little too forgiving, so your patience for his irritating unorthodox personality is stronger than most.
Although it might not be immediately apparent to most observers, the two of you make for a perfect pair. You are the calm to his storm, the logic to his insanity, the yin to his dumbass yang. While it’s easy to say that you hold the short end of the stick when it comes to living with Seokjin, he also grounds you and keeps you from pushing yourself too hard. There have been many long nights in the past when you would be too absorbed in your work, not even remembering to eat or drink for days. All it takes is a soft poke or nibble from Seokjin to jolt you back to your senses as he reminds you time and time again that your life matters not only to you, but him as well.
He’s your familiar. Your sweet, foolish, annoying, narcissistic familiar. It really might have been fate for you to have met all those months ago in your garden, though you’d never tell him that. He’d be much too smug about it if you did, as he never did shy away from proclaiming that he was your knight in shining armor or something.
Which is all the more reason that you fear for your life now that you’ve run out of options for his birthday present. He’d never let you hear the end of it, and you can only imagine how a vengeful and spiteful Seokjin might be compared to his normal self.
You sigh dejectedly, closing your last book and shoving it across your living room floor. “This is my fault for forgetting,” you say, rubbing your temples with a grimace. Of all the times your forgetfulness could fail you, you certainly would have hoped that this would not be one of the times when it did. You must remember to ask Namjoon to restock the ingredients needed to make more head clarity potions, though you suppose you might end up forgetting to do that as well.
Every potion in your arsenal of knowledge just wouldn’t work out for Seokjin, or at least you think so. The potions are either too useless or too useful, with the latter being a bigger problem. As much as you like to tease Seokjin for his hamster-sized brain, he did have his cunning moments. You dread to wonder what type of mischief he might come up with should you give him, say, a 24-hour luck potion.
“Though I suppose he wouldn’t be able to take over the world in 24 hours… Could he?” Even as you say it, you know in your heart of hearts that he absolutely can and will. Fucking bastard that he is.
With no other options viable to you, you did have one last trick up your sleeve. You might even say this option is worse than a 24-hour luck potion, though you will be making sure that he has adult supervision while he, erm, utilizes this gift of yours. This last-minute gift idea of yours is famous amongst your circle of friends, mostly because you do have a penchant for forgetting numerous birthdays and anniversaries in the past.
You’re usually quick to resort to this last-minute gift whenever you forget someone’s birthday, as you trust that your friends would never misuse your kindness in any way. But like most things, Seokjin is a different case entirely. As you have mentioned before, Seokjin… has ways of getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Added with the fact that you were unquestionably whipped for his hamster ass, he most often can get you to do things that aren’t what most would consider being “morally sound.” You may love him, but you certainly don’t trust him.
Long story short, you are slightly terrified of giving him ten wishes for his birthday. Ten wishes that will allow him to ask you to do anything for him, as long as they’re within your abilities of course. If anyone were to find out that you were even considering offering wishes to Seokjin, much less ten wishes, you are sure that they would throttle you for the premeditated mass destruction of the human population.
Which is why you’re going to have to make some rules for the little rodent, and hope to all the deities up above that he doesn’t find a loophole of sorts. Hopefully.
It’s nearing 9:30 AM when you manage to muster up enough courage to tiptoe noiselessly into his room, not bothering to knock as you know that he will most likely ignore you. Your heart pangs when you see him curled up into a ball in his bed, still in his human form as you had not been able to transform him back into a hamster before he had stormed off the night before. He has his back turned away from the door, but you know he’s awake when you hear his muffled sniffles. Your previous trepidation is replaced with guilt immediately, causing you to lower your head in shame.
“Seokjin? Sweetie?” You say his name hesitantly, unsurprised when the shifter refuses to look at you. You pad softly towards his bed, your knee digging into the soft mattress but not daring to come closer. You want desperately to cuddle with him in bed, always having appreciated his higher body temperature, especially during the colder months.
“I’m so sorry for forgetting your birthday, Seokjinnie. I know I’m a big fool for forgetting such an important day, but I really hope you can forgive me,” your voice grows softer the more you speak, dropping to a whisper by the end of your sentence. The room is silent, save for the sound of Seokjin’s breathing and your rapidly beating heart. Your mouth feels like sandpaper when you continue, “I know this might not make it up to you entirely, but I do have a gift that I want to share with you.”
At the mention of the word “gift,” you can see the way the small hamster ears perched on his head start to twitch. You smile secretively to yourself, knowing that you finally got his attention. “Come on, sweetie. Don’t you want to know what your present is?”
With a loud sigh, Seokjin rolls over to face you, his cheeks blotchy with tear stains and dried snot. You nearly cry out at the sight, but you keep your guilt to yourself, now more eager than ever to right your wrongs. You hate seeing him cry, most especially when it is you who had made him shed those tears.
“You got me a gift?” His voice is hoarse, but his curiosity is plain as day.
You nod happily, clapping your hands with excitement. “Yup! I know this will be the first time Seokjinnie is celebrating his birthday with me, so I thought long and hard about this—” a complete lie, but he doesn’t have to know that, “—and I thought it would be great if I gave you ten wishes for your birthday!”
There is a pause. In lieu of a response, Seokjin just sits up in bed, pushing off his blankets and blinking rapidly at you in disbelief. He rubs his eyes once, twice, but it still seems like he can’t believe what he’s seeing (and hearing). His mouth opens and closes, before finally saying, “Excuse me?”
You arch a brow, slightly confused as to why Seokjin seemed so astonished. “What? Do you not want ten wishes for your birthday?”
Seokjin shakes his head, looking like a possessed bobblehead with how quickly he moves. “No, of course I do! I just… You trust me enough to make ten wishes? Me?”
You cringe. “Well, trust is a strong word…”
“I knew it!” Seokjin scoffs, pointing at you accusingly. He flops back onto the bed, a deep pout on his face. “My ten wishes are probably gonna be stuff like ‘No cooking duties for a month!’ or something equally as lame.”
You roll your eyes. “Well, yes that could be one of your wishes if you so desired. But no, you can ask for fun stuff too.”
Seokjin raises a finger. “Oh really? Then how about—”
“No wishes that will allow you to attain world domination,” you interrupt, watching amusedly when he immediately deflates.
“Aww,” Seokjin mutters, dropping his finger. A second later, he raises the same finger again. “Then—”
“And no bodily augmentations as well,” you add.
Seokjin looks down at his crotch dejectedly. “Aww!” Seokjin repeats. ”Then what else am I supposed to ask for?!”
You shrug, tapping your chin. “Well, is there anything else in that empty skull of yours that you might want? There should be something you want that you can’t have.”
For a moment, Seokjin’s expression turns cloudy, like he usually does when he’s thinking deeply about something. It might have been the trick of the morning light, but you swear he gives you a quick once over, tongue poking out to wet his chapped lips. “I have an idea,” he says, voice low.
You feel your palms begin to sweat, unused to the dark look on Seokjin’s face. Anticipation fills you as you both stare at each other, neither willing to back down. “Y-yes?” you say, suddenly nervous to hear his response.
He smirks, tilting his head with contemplation. “I want…”
What? What do you want? You squeeze your fists unknowingly, forcibly keeping yourself from squeezing other parts of your body. Could it be..? No…
“Seokjin—”
“I want to beat Jeon Jungkook in a spicy noodle challenge. Just once in my fucking life!” Seokjin hollers, punching his pillow in the midst of his unexpected fury. His eyes are blazing, cheeks puffed up due to his unbridled hamster-y rage. “That little bunny bitch! Thinks he’s hot shit just because he can eat two more cups of spicy ramen more than me? Well, I want him to finally get a taste of his own medicine!”
You feel your shoulders sag in relief, wondering where on earth your brain had been going just a moment ago. “You… You want to get a spice resistance potion? Yeah, I can do that for you. Give me a second,” you say, dashing out of his room like your ass is on fire, afraid that he might notice the blush dusting the tops of your ears. You mentally slap yourself, biting the insides of your cheeks to keep from strangling yourself. Keep it together, Y/N. Remember how much of an idiot he is and you’ll be fine… Just don’t think too hard about it.
Lucky for Seokjin, spice resistance potions are quick enough to make and it only takes you 10 minutes to cork the finished concoction for him. You scurry back to his bedroom, about to hand the small vial over to him when the words get caught in your throat. You’re momentarily paralyzed by the sight of his naked back, his ocean-wide broad shoulders on full display for your wandering eyes to feast on. Naked Seokjin isn’t even a rare occurrence in your household, but it doesn’t get easier to witness even as the days go by. In fact, you guess it only gets harder for you, pun intended.
Thankfully (or unthankfully), Seokjin slips on a clean shirt before turning to you, his expression lighting up when he sees you (with your mouth still fully agape) with the potion in hand. “Nice one, Y/N!” He takes the vial from you, peering at the minty green color with glee. “Oh damn, when I see that little shithead, he’s not gonna know what hit him!”
“Are you gonna go challenge him today?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. I’d rather spend my birthday doing other things. Plus, I already have better ideas for the remaining nine wishes I have left.”
“Such as?”
He pats your head a little condescendingly, a devious smirk playing on his lips. “No need to worry your little head, Y/N. You don’t even need to work for four wishes, because I know for a fact that you have these potions in your stock,” he says, laughing maniacally as he scampers off to your basement storage.
“Seokjin!” You call out to him, wondering not for the first time how he always manages to outrun you despite doing nothing all day except eat sunflower seeds and play videogames all day. Though you assume it might have to do with his rodent DNA, as the little shit always did manage to slip from your fingers when you’re strangling holding him in his tiny furry form.
When you get to your cellar, you find him rummaging through your stores and softly humming a tune as he takes his time sorting through your potions. You try to peek over his shoulders to see what he’s doing, but it’s a lost cause as his entire frame somehow manages to block your entire view. Fuck him and his doorframe shoulders.
“Hey, I heard that!” Seokjin says, making you realize belatedly that you did say it out loud—not that you particularly cared if he heard. You’ve thought and said worse, plus he knows it. He thrives on being an asshole.
“Can you at least tell me what you want? I can find them for you too, as long as they aren’t… too dangerous,” you say the last part skeptically, not knowing what is categorized as “dangerous” when it comes to him. For all you know, he could somehow find a way to kill a man with a healing potion.
“No, no. I got it. Here,” he hands you a medium-sized vial filled with a colorless liquid. When you turn the bottle over, you see that you labeled it as one of your hair color changing mood potions, a popular novelty potion that you sold to kids at the market sometimes.
“Why on earth would you want this?” You snort. “Let me guess… You want to feed this to Yoongi so that you can anticipate whenever he’s about to scratch your eyeballs?”
“Close, but not quite! I want you to drink it,” Seokjin says, poking his head out of the cupboard to give you a quick smile. He winks at you, which you do not return. “Come on then. Drink up!”
You squint at him incredulously. When he doesn’t seem to be joking, you exclaim, “Hold on. Why on earth do you want me to drink this?”
But Seokjin has already shoved his head back into the cupboard, the sound of bottles clinking together nearly drowning out his voice as he struggles to find the other potions he’s looking for. “No particular reason! I just never see you with crazy hair colors and I always wondered how you’d look like in pink. I think it’d suit you.”
You flush darkly in response, stammering loudly at his brazenness. “But pink is the color for…” You trail off, embarrassment short-circuiting your brain. No way he could mean… that, could he?!
“Pink is for happiness, right?” Seokjin says after a moment, not noticing your awkward demeanor as he finally exits the cupboard, three other bottles cradled carefully in his arms. He closes the wooden door with his foot, walking out of the cellar with his prizes and not bothering to check if your dumbfounded self is following suit.
It takes a second for you to snap out of your stupor, yelping when he nearly slams the basement door on your face. “No, you idiot! Yellow is for happiness! Oh Merlin, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” you curse, treading closely on his heels.
Seokjin looks at you with confusion, but he thankfully doesn’t ask what specific mood the color pink represents. “Well, I guess you’re gonna have to live with yellow hair all day.”
“And why is that?” you say lamely.
“Because I’ll get to see how happy you are to be with me! After all, I am so incredibly handsome,” Seokjin laughs haughtily. He waits for you to open the door back to the house, his resounding laughter sounding even louder when you both enter, given the acoustics of your home.
“Then I guess my hair will be blue all day instead,” you scoff, pinching him lightly in the side.
“Oh? Because you’re sad that you can’t be as pretty as me? Understandable,” he nods sagely. “Or perhaps you’ll turn green with envy because you can’t be as pretty as me? Or even orange with fear, because you can’t be as pretty as—”
After living with him for so long, you’ve long since developed the ability to mute him out without needing to plug your ears with anything. It’s a necessary skill that you pride yourself in having, as it allows you to live in peace with the insufferable twat. You pity anyone who has ever had to live with him for an extended period of time; dear Merlin, you hope to meet his mother someday, as she must have been incredibly powerful to birth such a beast into existence and raise him willingly, too.
“Hey, are you listening to me? Are you muting me again? ON MY BIRTHDAY? Stop that!” Seokjin whines, poking you in the cheek. You startle slightly, pointing him with an annoyed look.
“Sorry, your highness. Does that count as one of your wishes? Because I honestly don’t think I can handle listening to you ALL DAY. I may be a talented witch, but even I don’t think that’s within my capabilities.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue out petulantly. “Whatever. Just drink the potion already, will you? Or would you rather I ask for a mind-reading potion instead?”
That shut you up quickly. You shudder at the thought of Seokjin with any sort of telepathic powers. You don’t consider yourself a saint, but you feel as though it’s your duty to keep him away from any sort of power. The world should thank you for your service, honestly.
Without further ado, you pop the cork off the bottle, downing the plasticky tasting potion in one big gulp. “Ugh. I don’t know why kids love this stuff. Tastes like shit.” You grimace, rushing to your kitchen to grab a glass of water.
On your way there, you notice your hair color begins to change from the mirror you keep above the kitchen sink. Your roots are starting to gain a light brown color, the default shade of the potion, but the color quickly drains out as you take your first sip of water. By the time the terrible taste is out of your tongue, your hair has turned completely gray. You finger your tresses, staring at its unnatural steeliness. “Well, at least we know it works. Gray means neutral if I remember correctly.”
“Damn, so this is how you’d look when you turn 50. Would still bang, not gonna lie,” Seokjin whistles, narrowly missing a jab to the stomach from you.
“No one asked for your opinion,” you retort hotly, hoping to the heavens that your hair isn’t changing color again.
Judging from Seokjin’s smirk, your prayers are useless. He cards a hand through your hair, admiring its new color. “Oh, interesting! Purple is for embarrassment, right? Wow, this is gonna be much more fun than I would have imagined!”
“A-anyway,” you slap his hand away, taking a step away from him to keep him from seeing your burning face (though it’s not like you hadn’t already been exposed anyway. Stupid magic potion.) You point to the three remaining bottles he had stolen from your basement, eager to divert the conversation away from the topic of your vulnerable emotions. “What about these? What on earth would you need—” You turn one of the bottles upside down, reading the label. “An illusion potion? Oh Seokjin, I don’t know about this one…”
Seokjin groans. “Oh, come on! The only rules you had were no world domination and no body augmentation, but you never said anything about fake body augmentation!”
“Trust you to find a loophole in any given circumstance,” you sigh, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to stall the incoming migraine (too late for that, given that the personified version of a headache happens to live with you.) “Okay, fine. Tell me what you’re gonna use it for and then I’ll decide.”
“Simple,” Seokjin snaps his fingers. He trails his hands to his ass, squeezing the globes of fat with a sad sigh. “I want people to think I have an ass thicker than Park Jimin’s.”
For some indiscernible, unconnected reason, you feel as though one of the blood vessels in your brain just popped. In any case, having a stroke might be a better fate than continuing to live in the same universe as the withered toenail in front of you. “I beg you to repeat that sentence. Think about your words first, really grasp their true meaning. Try to remember what it’s like to have functioning brain cells. Then try to repeat your words with a straight face.”
“I. Want. People. To. Think. I. Have. An. Ass. Thicker. Than. Park. Jimin’s.” Seokjin repeats, his expression as flat as his ass. “Are you happy now? Will you grant my wish, please? You said no bodily augmentations, so having the illusion that I have thick ass should be perfectly acceptable, is it not?”
“I rue the day you learned to speak the human language.” You sigh irritably, pocketing the offending potion. When Seokjin begins to protest, you silence him with a quick glare. “Don’t worry, you fucking moron. I’m only allowing you to use this potion with my supervision and I simply don’t have the time to watch you bump bubble butts with the local village thot right now,” you explain.
Seokjin nods, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Indeed… I will need your assistance when I walk into town once everyone sees me with my ass shots and tiddies done. The people will simply devour me in an instant.”
“Are you aware that every moment you breathe, you are poisoning the air with your toxic presence?” you say with a deadpan stare. Ignoring his indignant squawks, you take a look at the two remaining bottles. “Alright. Please fucking tell me these are at least slightly sensible choices…”
“If there’s anything I know after living with you, it’s that our definitions of ‘sensible’ vary greatly between us,” Seokjin says, and for once you couldn’t agree more. He takes the last two bottles, turning them over to show you the labels underneath. “They’re luck and truth potions, each with a dose worth one hour. And before you say anything,” Seokjin beats you to the punch, holding a finger up when it looks like you’re about to protest, “These aren’t for me.”
You scrunch your brow in confusion, not quite following his logic. “What? Then what’s the point?”
Seokjin’s grin is mischievous, the twinkle in his eye sending a shiver down your spine. You’re familiar with that look, as it’s the same kind of expression he has whenever he plans to do something incredibly stupid, like eating uncooked noodles before pouring boiling water down his throat in order to eat instant ramen faster. You’ve been at the victim of too many of his ridiculous schemes to not know that whatever he is planning can’t be innocent.
“It’s simple, my dear Y/N. This is all part of my ingenious master plan that I thought of ten minutes ago,” Seokjin explains, tittering haughtily like some poorly designed video game villain. “Hold the applause, because my plan is going to rock your socks off.”
“I’m not even wearing any socks.”
“Then my plan will put socks on you, my dear. That’s how incredible it is,” Seokjin says, undeterred. “So basically, we’re finally going to get Yoongi and Namjoon to fuck.”
Seokjin pauses for dramatic effect, waving his hands around like a magician would, except the only magical act he’s ever performed was to be born as the first-ever living creature without a functioning brain. “Well?” he prompts, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Are you not going to ask me how I’m going to do it?”
Your expression morphs from confusion, to incredulity, to frustration, to acceptance all in five seconds flat. You’ve long since realized that it’s easier not to ask too many questions for the sake of your mental health, though you suppose it might be important to ask a few questions, mostly for the sake of your friends’ safety. You’ve lost enough acquaintances as it is, all because your familiar with rocks for brains wouldn’t know decency if you shoved it up his ass.
(PS: No, they aren’t dead, but they’ve told you that Seokjin makes them feel like death anyway. That’s just the sort of effect he has on people.)
“Fine, I’ll bite. What’s your ingenious plan to get Yoongi and Namjoon to fuck entail?” you ask, gritting your teeth in preparation to withstand the pure, unadulterated strength of his dumbassery.
“Well firstly, I need the luck potion to win rock, paper, scissors against Yoongi,” Seokjin starts, smirking at the thought. “It’s been my dream to beat him at the game, as the score right now between the two of us is 349 to null in his favor—”
“That’s just because you always play paper. Consistently. You never use scissors or rock,” you deadpan.
Seokjin gasps, holding a finger up to your lips to silence you. “I am above using rocks! I am no barbarian! And do you think I’d ever use scissors? That is just one step away from me throwing up a peace sign like some sort of weeb!” Seokjin retorts, nose upturned in the air. You struggle to keep your fists by your sides, the itch to punch him in his perfectly sculpted nose growing by the second.
“Regardless, I intend to win this time,” Seokjin continues. “And I will make him take the truth potion as my prize for winning so that he may finally confess his feelings for Namjoon and end their five-year-long mutual suffering.”
“Don’t you mean mutual pining?”
“Same thing,” Seokjin shrugs. “You and I both know that those two idiots will continue to skirt around each other like teenagers who only just realized that their penises can be used in different ways other than for pissing. They’ve been in love with each other for far too long and I intend to be the cupid that brings those two together.”
“Why must you phrase things like that,” you sigh, not really asking with the intent of hearing an answer. You’ve been asking him the same question for months now, and have yet to receive an answer that isn’t “because I can!”
“So does that mean you’ll let me use the luck and truth potions?” Seokjin asks, his lip jutted out in what he probably presumes is a cute manner, but all it does is make him look like his bottom lip got stung by a hornet. (Still kinda cute though, you think to yourself.)
After taking another five seconds to deeply access the state of your life, you sigh tiredly, feeling weary beyond your years. Figures that he would notice the attraction between your two best friends, but still remains oblivious to your own feelings.
“Fine,” you acquiesce, crossing your arms in an attempt to look annoyed. You aren’t doing a very good job, however, as you try not to smile at Seokjin’s unabashed excitement. Fuck him for being so adorable when he’s happy. Why couldn’t he be excited over more normal things, like R-18 video games or hentai?
You clear your throat, stopping his celebration. “Do you really want to spend your birthday getting Namjoon and Yoongi to get together though? Pardon me for saying this, but I seriously didn’t think you’d want to help them.”
“Why not?”
“You always seemed a little too enthusiastic whenever the two of them were being...” you pause, stuck on the word you want to use.
“Super stupidly horny for each other? Yeah, I admit that I do enjoy watching Namjoon getting a boner whenever Yoongi does that weird cat thing,” he says, shrugging.
“Weird cat thing? You mean when he stretches and his entire torso grows twice as long?”
“Precisely!” Seokjin claps his hands, grinning ear to ear. “It’s super gross and weirdly cute! I don’t know how Namjoon finds that even remotely horny-inducing. Must be a cat person thing.”
You shake your head, unwilling to think deeper about the psychological mechanisms of your friends. “Besides the point. Do you want to head over to Namjoon’s place now? They invited us for dinner tomorrow to celebrate your birthday anyway, so we can always do this next time, or…”
“Hell no,” Seokjin is quick to interject, knowing that you're just trying to weasel your way out of being an accomplice in his ill-planned hijinks. Your shoulders slump in defeat. "You are not getting out of this. We are doing this today before either of us forget! C'mon, it won't take that long."
"That's what I was afraid you'd say," you grumble. "But fine. Just gimme a sec to get ready," you point at Seokjin's ahegao printed pajamas with disgust, "—and you should probably change out your clothes too."
Seokjin looks down at his clothes with a confused expression. "What's wrong with my PJs?"
"I think the more important question is what's wrong with you," you reply, stalking off to your bedroom. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear his squawks of offense.
As you hadn't gotten sleep the night before, you only just notice that you're still wearing yesterday's clothes on your back, the sweat after hours of worrying about what to get Seokjin making your shirt stick grossly to your armpits. You strip off quickly, doing your best to freshen up and look semi-decent (though there isn't much of a need; you've been friends with Namjoon long enough that he's seen you at your worst.)
You pass by your dresser, seeing your reflection in the mirror. Your hair color is shifting from yellow to brown at a rapid pace, making it appear as though you'd been the victim of a terrible dye job.
"I'm a victim, for sure..." you mutter to yourself, fingering your multi-colored locks. The brown color is for annoyance, which shouldn't be much of a surprise to anyone, but the yellow? Happiness isn’t exactly the word you’d describe your emotions right now. And also, do your eyes deceive you? Is there a patch of pink appearing just at the crown of your head?
“No, no… This is no good at all.” You force yourself to think of sad thoughts, trying desperately for the colors to change—but to no avail. Luckily, that hamster bastard doesn't remember what pink means, or else you'd definitely be screwed, and maybe not even in the good way.
You sigh tiredly, slumping over onto your bed when the fatigue from the day finally hits you. “It’s only morning, and I already want to die. Must be a record,” you snort in exasperation, watching as the tips of your hair turn black in response. “Wow, thanks magic. No one would have guessed I was tired unless you said so,” you mutter sarcastically.
You never thought that you were much of a tsundere, but you're starting to understand the appeal. People knowing your emotions so easily is disconcerting, to say the least. You'd rather die than let Seokjin know that his stupid little antics actually do make you happy, since spending time with him doing pretty much anything is always a good time. It's just... someone has to hold the brain cell in the relationship, and you never would have expected that you'd be the wielder majority of the time.
When you step out back into the living room feeling more refreshed, Seokjin is ready to go. Which is to say, he hasn't moved a single inch from where he was standing just ten minutes ago.
"You bitch! I told you to get dressed," you snap. You pull him by the ear, making the 179 cm adult man whine like a little baby. "Take your clothes off!"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he wheezes, still grimacing from the throbbing pain from where you had tugged his lobe. He tries to wink at you but fails tremendously. He looks like he’s having a funky lil seizure instead. "Just transform me into my animal form and let me ride in your pocket. It's too cold out to walk! You know how sensitive my nipples are! They turn into ping pong balls when it's winter."
"I don't care. Please stop using me as your personal taxi service; you've shat in the pockets of two of my coats already," you grumble, but your pleas remain unheard. He pouts, and your feeble willpower disintegrates immediately at the sight. You sigh, "But since it's your birthday, I won't complain about it this time."
"You literally just complained though?"
You ignore him. You outstretch your finger, ready to boop. "Alright, gimme your nose, wench."
Instead of coming closer as you expected, Seokjin just gives you a contemplative look. Never a good sign. "Actually, that gives me an idea..."
"Oh, dear Merlin. Not another one of those. Please spare me," you groan.
"This one is easy though!" Seokjin tuts, bonking you on the head. You hear something click in the back of your skull, but now is not the time to ponder about such trivialities. He continues, "Instead of my nose being my transformation point... Do you think you could—"
"I am not making your penis your transformation point," you interrupt.
"—make my butt my transformation point? Wait, hold on, nevermind. I think I like your idea better," Seokjin jumps in excitement, but his mirth dies when he sees your unimpressed stare. "Okay, fine. No penis touching. But butts! You touch my butt all the time anyway! It shouldn't be that different."
"Yeah, but I only touch your ass so often because you beg me to punch and massage it in hopes of it becoming bigger. Which, by the way, isn't a real thing. You should do squats instead or something."
Seokjin gasps, scandalized. "Me? Working out? Please, that's as improbable as Yoongi turning into a regular-sized person!"
"I'm telling Yoongi you said that," you roll your eyes. "And to answer your question, no I won't switch your transformation point to your—" Wait, hold the phone. That gives you an idea. A glorious plan, something that might finally teach him a lesson.
No way in hell he would fall for that, though, you think idly to yourself. You’d be too obvious! Unless..?
"What is it?" Seokjin asks, confused when you suddenly stop speaking. He gazes curiously at the way your eyes are glazed over, concerned when he sees the way the corners of your lips twitch slightly. "What's up with you?"
You snap out of your reverie, your mischievous thought quickly cementing itself in your mind. Seokjin may be a chaotic shithead, but so are you. No one can endure living with Kim Seokjin for long without gaining a few shithead genes in the process, and you're no exception. This will teach him to be a little more conscientious, you hope. It's a pipedream, but as they say... Reach for the moon, and if you miss, then at least you'll get swallowed up by a black hole and turn into spaghetti.
"Nothing. Just had a thought, thot." You whistle innocently, barely holding down your grin when Seokjin stares at you suspiciously. Fortunately, your hair color hasn't given you away. To be fair, you didn't know light blue was the color for being a jackass either; you learn something new every day. "Nevermind that. I changed my mind. I'll grant your wish. After all, it is your birthday."
"That's right!" Seokjin exclaims, but there's a note of uncertainty and nervousness in his tone. He squints at you, pursing his lips. "Aha... Of course, it's only right that you give me what I want. It's what you promised, after all."
"Yes, yes... What Seokjin wants, Seokjin gets..." You trail off, your mind preoccupied as you hurriedly go over to your kitchen cupboard. You aren't sure if you kept them or not, so it takes you a few moments of sifting through all the bottles of herbs before you find it in the back, where it has gained a thin layer of dust all over it. You wipe it off, humming in victory when you see that it's exactly what you need.
You take a quick look at the bottom of the bottle, pleased to see that Namjoon had forgotten to label it, like always. But you remember what it is, even though you've never really quite needed to use this particular herb. He had given it to you as a strange novelty item a long time ago: it was an ingredient for obscure potions that were never really ordered at regular magical apothecaries, which is why it had remained untouched in your cupboard until today.
By itself, it has strong magical properties too, or rather... You suppose it would be more accurate to call them side effects. It has an incredibly confounding side effect that some might consider dangerous, which is why it's important to handle this herb with the proper protective equipment. Not that Seokjin would know that, of course.
"Here," you say, handing over the innocuous-looking bottle to Seokjin. He peers at it, turning it over to look for the nonexistent label.
"What is this? Weed?" he murmurs, popping the lid open and taking a tentative sniff. "Doesn't smell like it," he says, raising a brow in confusion. You let out a small giggle, but thankfully, he doesn't notice your slip up.
"Nah, it's called the Baliktad herb. I remember that Namjoon had given it to me ages ago, and it's coincidentally something you can use to... transfer magic from one body part to another." You choose your words carefully, though it's not like you're lying, anyway. Vagueness is the first step in deceit, after all.
"Really? How does it work?"
"Simple! All you have to do is grind some of the herbs into a powder, mix it with some water to form a paste, then rub it on your nose and your butt. Wait a few seconds and poof!"
Seokjin nods, intrigued. "Wow, I've never heard of this thing before. Are there other uses for this? Say, what if I rubbed some of it on my dick instead—"
"Oh shut the fuck up and give me that," you grab the bottle back, glaring at his impish face. "You know what? I can't trust you to administer it on yourself. Lemme make the paste and I'll rub it on you."
"That sounds hot," Seokjin winks, barely dodging your kick to his nuts. "Hey, hey! Feet off the prize, darling! My balls are where the ladies get their babies."
To stop yourself from screaming, you keep your mouth shut this once. Besides, you're too excited for what you're about to do to him, so keeping silent is a small price to pay. All of it will be worth when you finally give him a taste of his own medicine. Or rather, a smell of his own medicine.
When you finish grinding the herb into a paste, you clear your throat, gesturing for Seokjin to sit on the couch. "Alright, let me put some on your honker first before I get to your ass. And no, you better not make some 'ass is grass' joke."
Seokjin visibly deflates. "Hey, what the fuck? You stole my joke before I even said it! I guess that's soulmate culture for you," he sighs dreamily, before yelping loudly when you shove two gloved fingers up his nostrils. "Hey! What was that for!"
"Oh, sorry," you apologize unapologetically. "I was just worried that if I slathered it on top of your nose, I might accidentally trigger your transformation, so I took the safer route it jammed it up your nostrils instead."
"Whatever happened to a gentlelady's touch..." he whines, scowling petulantly at you. "Wait, if you're gonna jam it up my nostrils, then does that you're also gonna jam it up my—"
Before he can finish his sentence, you push him down onto his stomach, kneeling on his back and literally stealing his breath away. "Aight, rat. I'm shoving your pants down now," you warn gruffly. He makes a winded sound, probably a snarky response that would have made you slap his nuts. Fortunately, your legs were currently crushing his windpipe and leaving him incapable of speaking.
It's funny how you’ve become numb to the sight of his naked ass at this point. Once upon a time, you had blushed constantly at the sight of his sweet cheeks, making for an awkward first two months of living together. Every time you close your eyes, the two globes would be imprinted underneath your lids, haunting you. Nowadays, you'd be more concerned if he wasn't wearing his signature "God Won't Let Me Die" booty shorts.
Also, despite what he says, he isn't completely assless. He has a substantial amount of cake, certainly nothing to scoff at. You grumble and moan about "having" to massage his ass, but honestly? Who wouldn't want to grab his ass? You might be stupid, but you aren't an idiot.
“The salve is going to be cold, by the way,” you warn, though it’s useless to say at this point since he already experienced it when you shoved up his nose just two minutes ago. Whatever.
Unlike then, you are much gentler applying the salve on his butt this time, mostly out of fear that 1) you'd accidentally penetrate his asshole with your finger like that one time (don't ask), or 2) you'd massage his butt like you know he wants you to.
“Harder, mommy,” he fake moans, wiggling his ass. You almost slap him on instinct, but think better of it.
"I hate that you're such a... debauched cretin," you say, tenderly rubbing his ass with a scowl. If any bystander were to see you, they'd might have thought you were his kind girlfriend rubbing medicine on a bruise or massaging your poor fatigued boyfriend. One might have even thought you were rubbing him a little bit too sensually, but little do people know... You were playing a stupid little prank on your dumbass familiar that may or may not cause him to beat you up (not that it would be much of a punishment to you, anyway. They don’t write romances like these anymore, huh?)
He taps you on the thigh, and you guess that he’s probably having difficulty breathing from your weight on his back. Feeling kinda bad for him, you shift your legs over, choosing to straddle him instead. However, the regret from your decision comes instantaneously the moment he regains his breath.
"You love me, though. You think I'm funny," Seokjin replies, albeit his voice is still a little strained under your weight. "You think I'm cute, too."
Yeah, you do. "I think your hamster form is cute. Get that shit out of your head," you scoff, but your heated cheeks betray you.
“I can’t see you right now, but I bet your hair is an insane shade of purple, isn’t it?” he teases, wiggling like a worm to express his glee.
“Fuck you,” you grouse. You slap his thigh twice in retribution: the first one for teasing you, and the second one for pretending to moan after you had slapped him the first time.
He was only half-right about your hair, anyway. You catch a glimpse of your pastel purple and pink hair from the corner of your eye, alarmingly visible for all to see. Honestly, it doesn’t take a lot of brainpower to figure out what pink actually means, most especially since you have never been subtle with your affections for him. After all, not everyone has the patience to keep up with his antics. The fact that you haven’t squashed him into a tiny hamster pancake is proof enough that you really do love him.
I mean, who else would give Kim Seokjin ten wishes on his birthday? That's giving him way too much power that no one should be comfortable with. Just goes to show that maybe like attracts like, sometimes. You must be a little crazy too, you suppose.
He’s never caught on to your feelings, however, as he probably thinks you’re more like an annoying younger sister or something. After all, you bicker with him more than anything else, but that’s just how it is on this bitch of an earth.
Luckily or unluckily for you, Seokjin doesn’t comment on your hair color when he sits up after you finish rubbing the herbs onto his gooch. He’s much too busy wrinkling his nose in confusion, his forehead scrunching as the herbs are presumably starting to take effect.
“How am I supposed to know when the herbs work?” he asks, scratching his nose. The salve has dried out considerably, turning more into flecks that fall off when he disturbs it. So now, it looks like he has disgusting leathery boogers hanging out from his nostrils. Somehow, he makes it work anyway.
“Oh, you’ll know,” you respond vaguely, smiling when you can tell that Seokjin’s suspicions are beginning to grow. “Want me to test it out?”
Seokjin nods, leaning closer and presenting you with his nose. You tap him gently on the tip (lol), both of you waiting for the scent of caramel and mint to signal his shift. When nothing comes, Seokjin gasps in elation, clapping his hands gleefully as he bounces up and down in his seat.
“Holy shit, I can’t believe that worked! I was so sure you were gonna prank me… I overestimated you,” he says haughtily, pointing his stupid nose up in the air. He guffaws, standing up and wagging his ass at you smugly. “C’mon, then! Slap my ass and let’s see if it really works!”
You don’t move immediately, disappointed when the actual effect of the herb doesn’t seem to be working. You pout, observing him skeptically. “Wait, hold on. Are you sure you don’t feel weird?”
His victory hoots come to an abrupt halt. “No? Why would I be?”
“Don’t you… smell anything odd?”
Seokjin looks at you weirdly. “No? Unless you count not smelling my transformation scent, then—wait, just a second.” He freezes up, sniffing the air with a disgusted expression on his face. “Shit, you’re right! There’s something super funky in the air. You didn’t fuck up my sense of smell or something, did you?”
“Nope,” you say, popping your p. Your smirk grows, breathy giggles escaping you. “Say, can you describe what you’re smelling?”
“Oh Merlin, it’s terrible! It smells like shit? Like fucking… like ass or something!” He grimaces, sticking his tongue out as he is assaulted by the stench that only he can smell. “What the fuck is that? Oh my fucking word…”
You’re breaking into full out laughter at this point, nearly falling over onto the floor from the strength of your mirth. You barely hear Seokjin’s squawks of bewilderment, ignoring his demands to tell him what you had done to him.
“I can’t believe it worked,” you wheeze, hunched over on your knees. You’re spraying spit everywhere from your hysterics, though you are exaggerating your delight a little just to piss Seokjin off. You point and scream at his face, hollering like a banshee until he finally grabs your wrists to make you stop.
“Out with it! What the hell did you do to me?” he shouts, shaking you roughly with unhinged eyes.
It takes you a moment to respond, unable to breathe through your giggles. “You—you’re fucking—smelling your own—wheeze—your own ass!”
Seokjin stares at you, dumbfounded. “What?!”
“Your—HAHA—your fucking ass! I switched your nose to your ass, you idiot! Just like you asked!”
Seokjin’s jaw drops, complete bafflement and betrayal on his expression. He backs away from you, shaking his head slowly with bugged-out eyes as he begins to fully understand the weight of your treachery. “You,” he seethes, venom dripping from that singular word. He sounds like a pet owner about to scold their dumbass cat for eating his prized plastic big booby women figurines or something.
You grin sweetly back at him, batting your eyelashes for extra effect. “Me? What about me?”
You don’t even have the reflexes to dodge him when he lunges for you, grabbing your neck and strangling you. “You bitch! How could you do this to me on my birthday!”
“Hehehe…” you wheeze, sounding even more goblin-ish with his grip on your throat. “You underestimated me, bastard. You asked for your ass to become your transformation point, and I did. You never said I couldn’t make transfer your sense of smell, too.”
“I didn’t ask you to make me smell my own ass! This is fucking garbage!” he yells, letting you go. You gasp for breath, but you’re still shaking with laughter at the absolutely deranged look in his eyes. He looks like an ape that was recently set free from his enclosure and out onto the streets.
“That’s what you get for not wiping your ass, then!” you retort, sticking your tongue out petulantly.
“Well, we can’t go to Namjoon’s house when all I can smell is my own fucking ass! Merlin, I should’ve downed the luck potion when you left to get changed, but I wanted to be A GOOD PERSON and so decided against it,” he sniffs, utterly irked by this turn of events. “I’m never going to be a moral person again!”
“When have you ever been one? I wasn’t even aware you had a conscience,” you say. “Wait, that reminds me. I’ll be taking these until we go to Namjoon’s, then!” You grab the luck and truth potions, keeping them behind your back. Seokjin immediately tries to grab them, but you’re quick to punch him in the gut with your free hand.
“Ooph! You’re such a meanie—aw shit!” Seokjin screams, holding his hands to his nose instinctively. “Fuck! That was a dirty move! You know hitting my stomach makes me fart! I can’t even cover my nose!”
“Hey, maybe for your next wish, you should ask for some cake. Then maybe we can recreate the cake farts video,” you suggest, mostly as a joke. But of course, you shouldn’t have been surprised when Seokjin starts to seriously contemplate your offer.
“Hmm… I was gonna ask for cake next, but now you’re making me really want cake now,” he hums, shrugging you off when you hit him in retaliation. “What? Why do you keep hitting me?! You’re the one who said it, not me! We might as well turn lemons into lemonade!”
“It was a fucking joke, you moron! I’m seriously going to eat you if you don’t stop being weird—”
“Oh shit, how do you keep reading my mind? Vore was gonna be my next wish too—”
“Shut up!” you hiss, your ears perking up. “I think I heard something from outside.”
You were both so busy bickering with each other that you hadn’t noticed that the doorbell had been ringing for the last minute or so. You both freeze, hearing the shrill sound of the bell going off, followed by three loud knocks. “Hello? Y/N? Are you home?” a familiar voice calls out. “It’s me, Taehyung!”
“Taehyung?” you shriek, staring incredulously at the door. He isn’t meant to visit until the end of the month to pick up refills for his grandfather’s medication. What could he need all of a sudden? “H-hold on! Gimme one sec!”
You’re only two steps away from answering the door when a growl (a squeal? Can hamsters growl?) stops you in your tracks. You slowly turn back to Seokjin, your blood running cold when you remember his blatant dislike for this particular customer. In fact, his aversion towards Taehyung runs so deep that you never allow him to stay in his human form around him lest he begins cursing him out like a sailor.
It doesn’t help, however, that Taehyung only ever sees him in his hamster form and constantly coos at him like a pet. You’ve had to apologize numerous times for the dozens of bites all over his hands and arms, but Taehyung always laughs it off, too oblivious to realize that a two-inch hamster wants to suffocate him with his own mullet.
There seems to be no discernable reason as to why Seokjin loathes Taehyung with such passion, though you’ve always suspected that it’s because he feels threatened by people prettier than him. You’d be the last person to admit to him that he’ll always be the prettiest in your eyes, especially since it would only make him ten times more insufferable.
Until then, Taehyung is just going to have to deal with a murderous, psychotic furball coming for his life.
Aforementioned psychotic furball takes a step towards the front door, but you’re quick to block his path. “Don’t you dare,” you warn, but you can already sense Seokjin’s hackles rising.
“I know what I want for my next wish,” Seokjin responds instead, disregarding your order.
“Overruled. I’m not letting you kick Taehyung in the nuts,” you say, hands poised to attack. You’re about to smack him on the nose when you realize that it’s not going to work this time. “Fuck! Give me your ass! I am not letting you get away with murder for your birthday!”
“I’ll give you my ass next time, darling. For now, I must defeat my sworn enemy, once and for all!” he howls, making a mad dash towards the door. “I’ll kill you, pretty boy! Only one person can be pretty, and it’s going to be me!”
He may be quicker than you on a regular day, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins gives you enough speed to land a loud, fat slap on his ass before he can even think to twist the doorknob open. Seokjin yelps in surprise as he turns towards you with a betrayed look in his eyes, before promptly being swallowed up by pink smoke and leaving an aggressive ball of fur where he once stood.
“Squeak! Squeak squeak squeak squeak!!” he squeaks, and you’ve long since learned his mannerisms well enough that you know that he just said “Y/N! I’ll fucking kill you!!” or something to that effect.
You pick him up gently into your hands, shushing him to no avail. “Fine, if you’re going to be that way—” you hiss, glaring at him when he gives you a haughty squeak. “—then I’ll just have to...yah!” you yell, hucking him across your living room and (safely) onto the couch.
(Caution: Do not do this to your hamsters. Seokjin is a magical hamster and is unnaturally sturdy, even in hamster form. He is an outlier and should not be counted. Plus, he deserves it.)
With Seokjin out of the way, you finally manage to get the door open without trouble. You greet Taehyung with a smile, although you do not doubt in your mind that you must look a bit worse for wear. Like the gentleman that he is, Taehyung doesn’t comment on your haggard appearance.
“Hey, Y/N. Sorry for intruding without notice. May I come in?” he asks. You nod a little too enthusiastically, stepping aside and allowing him into your abode. You glance at the couch, gasping quietly when you don’t see Seokjin anywhere.
“Shit,” you curse lowly, to which Taehyung turns to you with a confused look.
“Pardon?” He must have mistaken your agitation to be directed towards him, as he bows to you apologetically. “Sorry again, you must be busy with other things today, but I’m in desperate need of a refill.”
“A refill?” you ask, semi-distracted as your eyes flit around the room, desperately searching for the small brown ball undoubtedly zipping around right under your nose. “What for? Is your grandfather doing okay?”
“Yes, ol’ pops is doing fine. I’m here to ask for a refill for… the other thing,” he coughs, cheeks darkening ever so slightly. His embarrassed tone breaks you from your search for Seokjin, forcing your gaze on him instead.
“The other thing? What do you mean—oh,” you interrupt yourself, finally understanding his meaning. “That thing.”
Taehyung nods frantically, hiding his face in his hands. “S-sorry, I know I asked for that potion as a one-time thing, but I met this new girl who’s really energetic, and let’s just say that I’m not keen on disappointing her when we’ve only started dating.”
You chuckle lightly, patting him on the back. “No need to explain, Tae. I’m not here to judge you. Besides, I just hope this girl doesn’t accidentally kill you like the previous one. Didn’t you say you went at it for three days straight?”
Taehyung groans, his flush growing until it reaches the back of his neck. “D-don’t even remind me about that! I accidentally took two doses of the potion that time and I was wishing for death by the seventh hour. I swear, I thought my dick was gonna turn into a raisin by the end of it—”
“Squeak!”
You both turn your heads towards the shrill noise coming from somewhere in your kitchen. “Shit, I forgot! T-Tae, just stay right here! I’ll be right back.” You jog towards the source, suddenly remembering that there was a live rodent on the loose with an evil agenda and only you would be able to stop him from fulfilling his goals.
You burst inside, immediately spotting that your bottom cupboard is ajar. It’s where you keep your extra stores of potions for regular customers, but you have very little time to wonder which potion Seokjin is aiming for before you’re already ripping open the door to stop the vermin.
“Oh you fucking little ballsack,” you snarl, dismayed when you realize that you’re too late. Seokjin has already found the potion he was looking for, having opened it up and already halfway finished drinking the damn thing.
You slap him away from the bottle before he can do any more damage, smacking him hard enough that his tiny hamster body slams against the cupboard wall. You don’t miss the victorious furry grin on his face, holding up a tiny hamster thumbs up to spite you. “What the hell did you drink?” you hiss, grabbing the half-empty bottle and flipping it over to read the label. “Verbosity potion… Oh, you bastard!”
You know Seokjin has always wanted to cuss out Taehyung like it’s his life mission, but you’ve always made sure that he was safely locked away in his bedroom whenever the younger boy was over for a visit. Seokjin knows today was his only opportunity to get his way, especially since he could always weasel his way out of punishment by using his birthday as an excuse.
“If you say even one word to Taehyung, I swear I’ll—”
“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Taehyung asks meekly from the living room, still standing where you had left him. He has his neck craned slightly to check up on you, but your back is thankfully blocking his view of the tiny psychopath you call your familiar.
“Y-yes! Everything’s just peachy keen,” you laugh nervously, your attention still focused on Seokjin. Your familiar has yet to make a peep, and both of you are slightly confused when he struggles to speak.
“S...squeak?” Seokjin asks, blinking in bewilderment. He looks to you for an explanation, but you’re as lost as he is. Not to toot your own horn, but you’re one of the greatest potion makers of your generation; it’s almost unheard of for your potions to not work.
You don’t question it for now; instead, you grab Taehyung’s requested refill from the back, the red and pink label making it easy to locate. “Here you go! This should be less intense than the previous one I gave you. This one will lose its effect once you’ve… finished, to say the least,” you grimace, smiling awkwardly.
Taehyung takes it from you, shaking your hands wildly. “Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re definitely a lifesaver. I owe you one,” he says, already making his way out the door. “I’ll hand over the payment to you when I come to pick up my grandfather’s medicines at the end of the month if that’s fine with you!”
“No worries, Tae. Take care!” you call out, waving goodbye until he closes your door shut. With Taehyung gone, you instantly return to kneel in front of your cupboard, where Seokjin is still slumped over, unmoving. He looks more dazed than usual, his black eyes unseeing as he stares somewhere behind you.
“Seokjin? You alright? Can you speak?” you ask, but he doesn’t react, as if he hadn’t heard you. You wave a hand in front of his face, snapping your fingers when that doesn’t work. “Hey, smooth brain. I’m sorry for smacking you, okay? I know it’s your birthday and I should be treating you better, but you really shouldn’t snoop around in my potion stores and drink stuff without my permission.”
When Seokjin still does not reply, you decide to pick him up and place him on the floor. You tap him on the bum, waiting a few seconds until Seokjin is back to his human form. When the smoke fades, he’s still stuck in his stupor, but you notice the dark red flush creeping up his neck and ears.
“Seokjinnie? Holy shit, are you okay?” You panic slightly, holding a hand up to his forehead and gasping when you feel the sharp rise in his body temperature. He is definitely feverish, and you’re worried that he might have had some allergic reaction to the potion or something. “Shit, are you getting a rash? Sweetie, can you hear me? Say something, please.”
“Y/N,” he rasps, licking his lips. His pupils are undilated to an unnerving degree, and his breathing is ragged. He stands up unsteadily, wobbling in place. “Fuck, I don’t really feel well.” His voice is deep, speaking unusually slower. You shudder involuntarily, fearful and intrigued all at once.
You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. Seokjin could seriously be in danger right now! Now is not the time to get horny! “Seokjin, explain how you feel. I’ll try to figure out what antidote I should make in case you actually did accidentally poison yourself with something,” you say hurriedly, going over to your stove and grabbing a spare cauldron from its rack. You’re grabbing random herbs and chucking them into a pot, too preoccupied and worried to hear Seokjin groan behind you.
“I feel… hot. And not in a sexy way,” Seokjin whimpers, curling into himself. There is sweat lining the edge of his brow, despite the house being relatively chilly due to the cold weather. “Okay, maybe a little bit in a sexy way.”
“Well if you can still joke about it, then it shouldn’t be life-threatening, whatever this is,” you say. Seokjin coughs out a laugh, but even that makes him cringe from the discomfort.
You decide to check the potion he had drank and see what ingredients you had used, as it usually will tell you how to make a reverse for it. When you grab the bottle, it only just hits you that the color of the potion is a little off than you remember. If you remember correctly, verbosity potions are usually a pale yellow color, but this one has a darker and deeper tone. In fact, you could see flecks of red sediment floating around, something that you recognize as wyvern blood.
Hold on… Verbosity potions don’t require wyvern blood. Very few potions require it at all, and the only one you can think of that would need it is none other than—
“Oh fucking shit,” you curse for what feels like the twentieth time in this story. You whip your head to face Seokjin, whose entire upper body seems to be bathed in a deep red flush. He’s panting in earnest now, tongue lolling out as he fights the fever consuming him. Little does he know, it isn’t a regular type of fever that he’ll be able to recover with medicine. You gulp, struggling to find an explanation.
“So, umm…” You laugh hesitantly, rubbing the back of your neck with a wry smile. Seokjin peeks up at you from behind his bangs, some of it plastered to his forehead from sweat. The faraway look in his eyes has disappeared, replaced by an unsettling hunger and darkness that is uncharacteristic for the mischievous hamster shifter. You gulp. “Seokjin, I think I know what you drank and it wasn’t the verbosity potion.”
“What?” he croaks, wincing when he adjusts himself to lean on the kitchen counter. You catch sight of a bulge forming in the front of his pajama shorts, miraculously still unnoticed by Seokjin himself. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m burning up.”
The way he utters your name brings a shiver down your spine, and your familiar notices immediately. His gaze is transfixed on the exposed part of your neck, trailing over your skin until his eyes finally land on your lips. You lick them unconsciously, with Seokjin following the movement.
“Seokjin, I need you to get to bed right now. I don’t know how long this potion is going to last, but I’m gonna need you to—”
“What did you do to me?” Seokjin growls, his grip on the counter tightening to the point that he may have cracked the marble. You know he’s strong despite being a prey shifter, but you didn’t think he’d become this powerful and aggravated. You’re guessing that it might be a side effect from him drinking the potion when he was in his hamster form. He had more or less drunk the dosage required for a regular-sized human, so his smaller body size must have led to a slight overdose. This is all guesswork on your part, but hindsight isn’t going to help you right now.
“I, umm… I think I might have accidentally mislabelled the potion,” you admit reluctantly, feeling meek under his heavy presence. You’ve never felt threatened or intimidated by him before, so this is completely uncharted territory for you. You know deep in your heart that he’d never do anything to hurt you even in his inebriated state, but you would still do well to take all your precautions when approaching him. “I think… I might have given Taehyung the wrong potion, too.”
Seokjin doesn’t respond and just keeps watching you as you fidget in place. You continue, “H-he came over today because he wanted a refill, right? W-well, he actually asked for libido potion. And, so—”
“You gave me horny juice? Is that what’s happening?” Seokjin groans, crossing his legs together when he finally registers the very distinct swelling in his underwear. “Fuck,” he moans, involuntarily humping the air to search for some sort of reprieve.
You scoff, trying to keep your tone as level as possible so as not to alarm him. “What do you mean I gave you horny juice? You’re the one who drank it without permission!” you retort, but the scolding dies on your lips when Seokjin starts to grind against the counter, small gasps leaving his mouth. Your throat goes dry, and you know it’ll only be a few more moments before Seokjin’s limited control will start to slip away.
“Y-Y/N, what do I do?” he whines, giving up on the counter and weakly reaching out for you. “I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t cum right now. I-I need you.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you start, your stomach swirling with arousal. His scent is stronger than usual, filling your senses with nothing but caramel, mint, and Seokjin. Even as you’re talking, you feel your resolve chipping away despite your better judgment. “You’re not thinking properly right now, and I don’t wanna take advantage of you—”
“N-no! I want it, no, I want you. I’ve always wanted you,” he pants, taking the two short steps to latch his hands on your waist. You flinch when you feel his large palms touch you, the heat palpable even through your clothes. Even with lust clouding his vision, he is gentle with you, like he’s afraid of hurting you. “I-I know you must think I’m a nuisance, and I’ve done n-nothing but annoy you these past few months, but I… I genuinely care about you a lot, Y/N. W-which is why I was so hurt when I thought you forgot my birthday, but even if you did, I was j-just happy to be living with you. Because I really lo—”
He gasps, unable to finish his thought as he accidentally tightens his grasp on you. He pulls you closer until your bodies are aligned, nuzzling into your neck. His teeth scrape your skin slightly, pulling a loud moan from you. You flush, embarrassed, but you have no time to worry about that when you feel how incredibly hard and solid he is against your stomach.
“P-please, help me? It doesn’t have to mean anything; we can forget about it after but right now, I don’t think I’m going to live past tomorrow unless I have my cock stuffing your pussy right this very moment,” he says in one breath, his hands reaching behind you to squeeze your ass. He inhales deeply, releasing it with a content sigh. “Fuck, I can already smell how wet you are. I just know my cock will stretch it out real good, just like how I always dreamed.”
“You… you dreamt of me like that?” you whisper, shocked. You don’t know why your brain latches onto that piece of information out of all the filthy things he just said, but you have to admit that the thought of him having wet dreams about you turns you on greatly.
“Are you kidding me? Have you seen yourself?” He sounds incredulous, like you’d just said something completely unfathomable to him. “Fuck, do you remember when I got my rut two months ago, and I stayed with Namjoon and Yoongi so that you wouldn’t feel awkward around me? They love to tease me about the number of times I moaned your name every time I came,” he admits. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you even if I tried.”
“Fuck, Seokjinnie,” you whine, your fingers scrambling to hang onto his chest, his back, his neck—anywhere, really. Your legs feel like jelly, afraid that you might stumble from how weak you’ve become from your own arousal. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?”
“I’m sorry I had to confess this way,” he says, caressing your hair with unexpected tenderness. He chuckles quietly, his breath tickling your neck. “But I really mean it, horny juice or not.”
Your heart squeezes inside your chest, not believing your lucky stars for allowing you to meet this wonderful boy in front of you. You can hardly believe your ears; never in your wildest dreams would you ever expect that he would also like you back.
“Seokjin, I also—” you begin, ready to spill your feelings all over the floor, but the moment is broken when Seokjin abruptly lifts you by the ass, his palms squeezing you as he barrels determinedly to his bedroom. You shriek in surprise, clutching onto his neck and holding on for dear life. “What the fuck? Seokjin, put me down!”
“No time for feelings! We can talk after we fuck,” he hoots, bouncing you onto the bed. You grunt from the impact, disoriented by the quick turn of events. Your head is spinning, so you don’t even register Seokjin’s hands peeling off your pants in one smooth motion.
A mixture of the cold air and nerves causes your legs to be littered with goosebumps. Seokjin, ever the attentive familiar, notices and rubs soothing circles all over, the heat inside of you coming back with a vengeance. “Sorry about that, baby,” he coos, massaging you. You shake your head, telling him it’s alright.
You are embarrassed when you feel how your panties stick uncomfortably against your skin, already so painfully aroused as if you had been the one affected by the potion. Your shame melts away when you see how much worse Seokjin is, however, as his nostrils flare with want.
“I’m glad my nose still works, by the way. I don’t know what I’d do if I missed the opportunity to smell your pretty pussy,” he sighs, situating himself in between your legs. He blows gently against your clothed slit, effectively causing all coherency to leave you for the night.
He watches your reactions slyly, his body heat radiating off of him in waves. For once, he looks more like predator than prey. “I know I said I was desperate to fuck you, but do you mind if I start with an appetizer first? I wanted cake today, but turns out my dessert was here all along…” he trails off, smirking when he catches the steadily growing spot on your underwear. “Oh, baby. I know you’re going to be the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“I-I,” you stutter, shuddering with desire. You whimper pathetically as he traces your panties with a fingernail, your stomach clenching with desire. “I didn’t know you could be like this.”
“Like what?” he hums, pulling your panties off to join your discarded pants. He grins at the sight of your glistening core, wetting his lips in anticipation. “God, you’re so pretty. I could just eat you up.”
“Then why don’t you?” you reply, trying to gain some semblance of control. That silly notion is thrown out the window, however, the moment Seokjin licks a fat stripe up your cunt. “Ngnnhh, fuck!”
Seokjin moans in tandem with you, slurping you up like a starved man. “Baby, you’re just as good as I thought. I could cum from eating you out alone.” He takes a deep breath, kissing your core almost chastely. “Fuck, I know I could cum from this alone,” he amends, rubbing his clothed length against the bed sheets.
The velvety wet heat of his tongue on your dripping pussy makes you clench around nothing, ripping a scream out of you when he focuses directly on your clit. He sucks with an obscene grin on his face, holding your hips down when your entire body begins to tremble.
“So sensitive,” Seokjin says, sluggish and gravelly like he’s drunk on your taste. “So fucking sensitive. How are you real, baby?”
“Jinnie, please,” you whine, doing your best to grind on his tongue despite his iron hold on you. “I want more, please.”
Seokjin only chuckles darkly, continuing his vicious pace. “C’mon, use my tongue like you want,” he says, letting go of you and allowing you to hump his mouth with reckless abandon.
You do as he says, swirling your hips against him with reckless abandon. The heat in your abdomen steadily builds, and you know you’re only seconds away from tipping over. “I’m close, Seokjin,” you huff, chasing your high. “Please, let me cum? Can I cum, Seokjinnie?”
He nods his head, unable to respond verbally as you continue to assault his tongue. After three more licks, you release with a silent scream, writhing violently from the strength of it.
He gives your clit one last sweet peck, sitting up with a feral grin on his face. His chin is dripping with your arousal, his plump lips redder than usual. He makes a show of licking your juices around his mouth, chuckling when all you can do is swallow wantonly.
“Thank you for the meal, baby,” he teases, his lust-riddled gaze slightly clearer now that he’s had a proper taste of you. However, the glaring tent in his shorts is still painfully present, a small darkened patch visible on his crotch.
“Wan’ your cock,” you slur, boneless and blissed out but still filled with the longing for more. “Fill my cunnie until I can’t walk anymore,” you croak, pussy twitching for extra measure. Seokjin’s expression twists, his pupils widening until his eyes are pitch black.
Seokjin doesn’t waste any more time. He rips his shorts off in record time, stripping himself of his shirt as well. You remove your own shirt and bra, causing your nipples to harden from the cold air. You tweak them as you wait for Seokjin to get himself situated, hungrily appreciating his beautiful torso and god-like shoulders. “Don’t use a condom, Jinnie. I want to feel all of you,” you say when he begins to reach inside his dresser. You can physically feel his unhinged desire growing from your words, your pussy dripping in anticipation.
“Gonna fill your pretty pussy, huh? Fill you until you have my babies?” he rasps, positioning his cock in front of you. “Gonna plug you up with my cum, Y/N? Is that what you want?”
You cant your hips upward, whining when his tip only just grazes your lips teasingly. “Fuck me already,” you beg. “Want you to ruin me.”
“Who am I to deny you? Ask and you shall receive,” he grins, before slowly pushing inside. Your jaw drops at the intrusion, as it’s been a while since you’ve last gotten fucked like this. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Almost like your pussy is sucking me in,” he groans, straining to keep himself from thrusting all the way into you. “Like you’re made for me.”
“You can m-move faster. I can take it,” you whisper, eyebrows pulling together. You sound desperate to your own ears, the pain and pleasure mixing deliciously and making your cunt weep with want.
There is a moment of hesitation on Seokjin’s part, but that all drains away when he sees your determination. Without another warning, he shoves himself up to the hilt, causing you to arch your back with a loud cry.
“Fuck,” he curses, but there is still worry in his eyes. “Baby, are okay? Are you good?”
It takes you a moment to remember how to speak. “C’mon, Seokjin. Move. I can take it,” you beg.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he moans, but nods his head anyway.
Seokjin pulls back until only his tip remains inside you before slamming back harshly, hard enough that you’re sliding backward. He begins his brutal pace, his dick stretching you out nicely like he promised. You let out tiny squeaks with every pump of cock, hitting you perfectly in the spot that makes you see stars.
“Kiss me?” you gasp out in between moans, pulling him by the hair until you’re kissing him sloppily. It’s more teeth than anything, as Seokjin grunts into your mouth with every tug of his roots. You bite his bottom lip after a particularly rough thrust, but it only encourages him to pick up the pace.
You wrap your legs around his torso, pulling him as close as humanly possible. You can already feel your second orgasm approaching rapidly, your toes curling in anticipation.
“Seokjinnie, I’m gonna cum soon. Please, I can’t hold it—”
“I’m close too,” he says hotly in your ear. He sucks a bruise into your neck, moaning when he feels your pussy tighten in response. He drills into your cunt faster, the rhythm of his thrusts growing sloppy as he reaches his own release. He reaches down between the two of you, rubbing circles into your clit. “Fuck, baby. Cum with me?”
You sob his name, your muscles contracting as your body lights up with intense pleasure. Your back arches off the bed, your walls milking Seokjin dry until thick white ropes of cum start leaking in rivulets down your sopping cunt and all over your thighs. You can feel his throbbing length inside you as continuous streams of hot seed keep flowing from him, filling you to the brim.
Seokjin slowly comes to a complete halt, but he still hasn’t pulled out. “I’m gonna keep my cum in you for a moment, okay? Don’t wanna waste any of it, right?”
You can only nod tiredly in agreement, completely tuckered out. Your chest heaves from your laboured breathing, but the smile on your face can only be described as content. “Wow. Color me surprised. Didn’t think you’d wanna be a father so early,” you say hoarsely.
Now sated, Seokjin’s demeanor returns to its normal state, his aura less crazed than before. He has the decency to look embarrassed, but the twinkle in his eyes shows that he doesn’t regret it in the slightest. “I’d be more than happy to be the father of your children. We’re already going to live with each other forever, so I might as well raise your children anyway.”
“Might as well?” you laugh, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. “You make it sound like it’s your obligation. And who said I’d live with you forever?”
“Well, I mean, who else is going to love you the way that I do?” he murmurs, nuzzling your noses together. “Who else would be your annoyingly handsome hamster familiar?”
“Quite,” you grumble, allowing him to maneuver you into a more comfortable cuddling position. You kiss him properly this time, enjoying the sweet, warm pleasure of his affection. You’ve never felt so happy in your life. “Happy birthday, Seokjin. I’m sorry this isn’t the way I planned for it to go, but I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Agreed. It’s just like us, huh?” he snorts. He cushions your face against his chest, carding his fingers tenderly through your hair. “Say… Y/N?”
“Hmm?”
“Tell me, what does your pink hair actually mean?”
You chuckle, snuggling deeper into his comforting scent. You feel yourself slipping into slumber, eyelids threatening to fall. You’ve always loved cuddling Seokjin, after all. But most of all...
I love you, of course. “I think you already know, genius.”
Even when the sun finishes its descent from the sky and darkness fills the room, the bright pink of your hair glows—unfaltering.
#networkbangtan#btsguild#bangtanarmynet#bts smut#seokjin smut#jin smut#seokjin x reader#bts x reader#bts reader insert#bts fanfiction#bts scenarios#bts#seokjin scenarios#kim seokjin#bts jin#bangtan#bts fanfic#i feel like i could punch the sun rn LMFAO
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Member: Jaehyun
sugar dadddy au ,“Can I taste you?”
thankyou❤️
pairing. sugar daddy! jeong jaehyun ✗ sugar baby! fem! reader
genre. borderline smut, sugar daddy au, non idol au, strangers to lovers au
warnings. cursing, suggestive themes (heavy make-out scene), implied smut, not proofread bc i’m tired as heCk
author’s note. SKSKKS okay so kiss scenes are prob my BIGGEST weakness so bEAR WITH ME HERE i’m trying my best but feedback is awesome guys bc i can’t tell if i’m doing it right send help
Anyone born in the modern era can absolutely vouch that college is a fucking bitch to fund for, for society has decided that it would be a great idea to force the young generation into thousands of dollars in debt just to get a degree you probably won’t have a use for. In no way are you saying that obtaining an education is useless—in fact you love learning new things around the world—but you find it utterly repulsive that there is this pressure placed on you to get a college degree or else you’re deemed a failure to the public’s eye. And with the increasing debt from your loans and the interest rates attached to them, you were desperate to find different means in paying them off than working your ass off for the next twenty years.
What better way to pay them off by having someone pay it off for you?
Succumbing to the internet has landed you with a single businessman in his twenties, fully loaded with cash to spend on anyone who is willing to attend with him on one important business affair to scare off possible marriage proposals from his potential business partners.
The man’s name is Jung Jaehyun, and holy fuck is this man knees-down attractive. You were a little skeptical at first of his offer because what’s so hard about acting like a trophy girlfriend wrapped around someone’s arms when there at thousands out there that would do it for free? Whatever, you thought. Easy job, easy money. And it was an easy job indeed, for he was gentleman all throughout the whole evening. He made sure you were taken care of, pampered for, and made sure that you were comfortable for the entire evening you were with him. He was a sweetheart, and you felt like you were on the top of the world. You get to have your debts paid off and spend some time with an attractive businessman. Nothing gets better than this.
Oh darling, don’t speak too soon. This is just the beginning.
You sat in Jaehyun’s passenger seat as he drove you back to your home. For the first time in years, not a single dime in your wallet has been spent for the latter has provided it all just for you. From the dress you embodied to the jeweleries you complemented all the way down to the heels you traveled on, you wondered how this feels to be part of the upper class. To be able to afford such luxury without fear of making a dent in your bank account seems like a dream too good to be true. And yet here you are, having already a taste of what it’s like to become the rich, you couldn’t deny how glamorous you felt.
However, rules are rules, and it’s upsetting to say that you won’t be experiencing it again any time soon. You and Jaehyun have already agreed that this is a one-time arrangement and you two shall depart from each other’s live once he drops you off at your door. It’s a shame really because you were actually enjoying his company, exponentially exceeding your expectations of how a rich person acts. In the short amount of time you’ve spent with him, if you were to erase his title of a rich businessman, he is just like every one of your friends, just a dash more mature.
You let out a sigh. ‘If only I could spend a little more time with him,’ you thought.
“You okay, y/n?”
You pulled yourself out of your thoughts and looked over to the driver side, Jaehyun half-concentrating on the road and on you.
You giggled a little. “Yeah I’m okay,” you shrugged. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”
The time on his dashboard currently reads 11:34pm, certainly coinciding with the dark skies splattered with millions of diamonds. You immersed yourself into the leather seat and looked out the window, gazing at passing cars and trees as you reached closer to your home.
You could hear a chuckle from his end. “I just want to say thank you for joining me tonight. It really means a lot to me.”
You smiled, your expression reflected on your windows to which he catches a glance of. “Of course, it’s the least I could do for our agreement.”
Right when those words left your mouth, there’s a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. You winced a little. Was it wrong of you to say? You’re not sure. One thing you’re sure of is that it’s the truth, and sometimes the truth hurts.
As your front door came to view, Jaehyun parks his car in your driveway. Turning the ignition off, he was quick to unbuckle and exit his vehicle to open your passenger door, sweetly smiling down at you. You couldn’t suppress the chuckle in you. “I guess chivalry is not dead,” you joked, earning a smirk from him. You got out of his car and walked up to your doorsteps, Jaehyun following behind once he shut and locked his door. You two stopped in front of your entrance and faced each other, your porch lights automatically illuminating the dark after sensing your presences.
He gazes down at you, intensely, eyes peering into your own that sends shivers down your spine.
“I-I guess this is goodbye then,” you whispered.
He nods, his eyes never leaving you. “I guess it is then.” You two continued to stare each other down, time slipping into a continuum where nothing else mattered in the world. It’s just you and him, alone at night, the crisp air failing to cool down your heated cheeks as he gazes down at you intensely.
You shakingly let out a sigh. “Be careful driving.”
And right when those words left your mouth, there’s a sweet taste left on your tongue, your body trapped against your front door. Jaehyun’s lips are pressed against yours, his arms pinned on both of your sides. You reciprocated his kisses, moaning in between as your mind loses all focus. He was soft, sweet, and so delectable that you left you wanting more, craving more.
He pulls apart from you, breathing heavily as a translucent thread of saliva connected both of your now-swollen lips. Your face is flushed, your pupils are dialated, and the growing tent in his pants makes it harder and harder to think rationally.
All throughout the night, he adored your innocent nature, finding it no less than adorable for a compassionate individual you are. In just a span of a few hours, he found you more intriguing than all the other women he encountered in his lifetime. He wanted to get to know you more, explore further into the depths of your lens and see the treasures that holds within.
He places his hands on your waist, pulling you close against his own body and knocking the air out of you. “Ma chérie,” he groans, “may I request one more favor of you for the evening?”
You wrap your arms around his neck to bring your face close to his own, your lips only gasp away from crashing into his.
There’s a saying that the eyes are the mirrors of one’s soul, and you’d be damned in hell for lying through your teeth that you didn’t anticipate for this moment to come. You saw how he looked at you the whole night, and you were dying to see more sides of him.
You nodded. “Be my guest, mon cher.”
He sighs deeply. “Can I taste you?”
May all your innermost desires be released from their shackles, for the taste of temptation is too great to bear within.
You let out a mischievous giggle. “Do as your wish, love.”
Oh darling, looks like your professors won’t be seeing you in class tomorrow.
jeongvision’s milestone event!
#jaehyun#nct jaehyun#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun smut#nct#nct 127#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines#jung jaehyun#jeong jaehyun#nct smut#nct 127 smut#jaehyun x reader#jaehyun x oc
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rewriting fate (to get the ending we deserve) | yang jungwon
pairing: Yang Jungwon x gn!reader
genre: soulmate!au, angst (with a happy ending), some fluff
warnings: blood, self-inflicted wounds (in an unconventional sense), mentions of scars, self-doubt
word count: 2.3k
summary: in a world where the universe designates two people as soulmates with matching tattoos, you were raised to trust and respect the universe’s will to no end. however, when the boy you love turns out not to be the other half of your fated pair, you begin to question how much the universe can really be trusted. are you and Jungwon actually making a mistake? Or has the universe?
-
You were laying on your back next to your boyfriend, the blanket he always kept in his car for moments like this protecting your clothes from the wet grass. With the stars shining above you and the boy you loved beside you, you felt like you could conquer the world.
You turned your head so you could look at Jungwon; his big, sparkling eyes, his soft hair resting on his forehead. Your eyes travel down his long neck and pause at the collarbones peeking out from his t-shirt. You watch as his chest rises and falls, it takes a moment for you to realize that yours is moving at the same pace. Your breathing was linked.
Jungwon, having felt your stare, moved his head to confront you. He raised his eyebrows and started to smirk, obviously about to make a joke about how whipped you were for him until you interrupted.
“You’re so beautiful,” you tell him.
Now it’s your turn to smirk, watching Jungwon try and fail to hide the way your words affected him, pressing his lips together to hide his smile and turning to face the night sky again so you can’t see how pink his cheeks are.
Your boyfriend unlaces your hands and, before you can whine, configures the two of you so that you can rest on his chest with his now free arm around you.
You snuggle closer into him, feeling his heartbeat pulse through your body.
“My parents had a talk with me,” you blurt out, unable to keep it a secret like you originally planned.
“…About?” Jungwon asks tentatively.
“They think we’re too old to be dating someone who isn’t our soulmate.”
God, you hated that word.
In this world, everyone was born with a mark, sort of like a tattoo, somewhere on their body. The placement changed with each generation and growing up, you and your peers walked around with dark blue drawings right above your hearts, courtesy of the universe. There were only two of each mark per generation, a matching pair indicating that those two people were soulmates.
Soulmate, perfect match, life-long confidante, a person who complemented you in every way and was worth any sacrifice, a person fated for you and you, them.
If you didn’t think it was total bullshit, you would’ve found it romantic.
You weren’t usually one to question the universe or think up complicated conspiracies to refute how the world worked, but this was something you wouldn’t budge on.
Because how could the universe always be right when you and Jungwon didn’t have the same mark?
Yang Jungwon, the boy with the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen and a smile to match. The person who could make you laugh at the most inappropriate of times, smile at the darkest, relax at the most stressful. The boy whose side you would never leave, the boy you would let the world burn for, the boy for whom you would do anything because anything that brought him happiness brought it to you by default.
Your best friend-turned-boyfriend, Jungwon has been by your side through it all. But now that you two were becoming adults, you were expected to leave your little “crushes” behind and start looking for your respective soulmates. People in your world still dated, even if they knew their significant other wasn’t their soulmate, but it was mostly seen as a way to gain experience for later. It was a given that if the person you were dating found their soulmate (or wanted to start looking), you would let them go with no questions asked.
That was sort of the plan when you and Jungwon started liking each other back in your last year of middle school, giggling and looking away whenever you held hands or made eye contact for long enough, but the young relationship that everyone cooed at easily developed into a strong bond between you and the boy lying next to you, an unbreakable bond that nobody could seem to understand.
So, to everyone else, you and Jungwon were just wasting time.
“Do you agree with them?”
“What?”
“Do you agree with what they said?” Jungwon repeated quietly. “Do you think we’re wasting time?”
“No,” you answered immediately, feeling your boyfriend exhale. “Do you?”
“Y/N, if I ever thought that this wasn’t worth it, I would’ve ended it right away. I would never hold you back like that.”
He always thought in terms of you, not him.
“But what if I’m holding you back? I want you to be happy, the happiest you can be, and if that means you have to be with someone else-”
“It doesn’t,” he assured you.
Your hand that was resting on his stomach fiddled with the fabric of his shirt.
“I told them that I had already found my soulmate, that I haven’t needed to look for anything since you moved in down the street.” You smile, thinking of how chubby Jungwon’s cheeks were when you first met as children.
He huffed out a laugh, raising his head to kiss the top of yours.
“You make me feel unstoppable,” Jungwon told you, “like the two of us could take on the universe when we’re together.”
“We kind of already are,” you joke, referring to how you’ve been ignoring the universe’s will for years now, “even the universe has failed at keeping us apart.”
You hesitated, unable to force something to the back of your mind.
“What about them, Jungwon? Are we horrible people for leaving them alone?”
He knew who you were talking about.
“I hope that they both have someone in their life who chooses them,” he told you, “instead of letting some glorified drawings control their happiness. I mean, if they really are supposed to be exactly what we need, maybe they aren’t looking for us either. Maybe they’ve found what we have.”
You sat up suddenly, Jungwon’s arm falling off your shoulders and flopping down beside his own body.
“What happens when you’re running errands one day or you’re out with your family and you see someone with the same mark as you?” You ask softly, staring ahead at the ground as your fingers tangled themselves in the grass, tugging and breaking the weak strands. “What if you meet them one day? What if someone’s shirt slips and it’s like you’re standing in front of a mirror or someone taps you on the shoulder because they could’ve sworn that-”
“Y/N,” Jungwon stops you, pleading.
You hear him sit up to join you.
You looked at him and physically felt all the anxiety leave your body in waves once your eyes met his. His sparkling eyes held so much love that it would be painful for anyone who didn’t share his feelings to look directly at them.
“There is nothing that anyone could say or do to ever make me rethink my decision, make me rethink you. We’ve never needed something to tell us how to feel, this relationship is entirely our own. Nothing can take away what we feel for each other… what we’ve built together.”
That was when you smiled, overwhelmed by the sweetness and the realness of the boy sitting next to you.
He was right, of course, your love wasn’t sketched out in the blueprint of the universe. It was grown and cultivated by two pairs of gentle hands, like a flower blooming in the box outside someone’s window or a blazing fire heating a home.
You had never needed the universe’s help to find true love.
Your boyfriend reached toward you, cradling your tear-stained cheeks with his hands.
“Do you feel that, Y/N? Do you feel like you’re on top of the world? Because that’s how I feel whenever I’m with you. You give me strength, strength that has defied the universe. How could a stranger pull my attention away from all of this? From you.”
“If they see them, how do we explain to them that there was some mistake?” You whispered.
You and Jungwon may be set on ignoring the curses inked on your chests, but the ones who shared your marks may not be.
One would think Jungwon was going to kiss you with the way he was staring at you, but his gaze was much too serious for that. It looked like he was searching for something, searching for a solution, an answer to your question.
But, instead of kissing you, he moved away and toward the picnic basket you had packed and brought for your little stargazing date.
He dug around for a few seconds before finding what he was looking for. The moonlight flashed across the silver knife as Jungwon moved back to where you were sitting with it in his hand.
“Jungwon…?”
He pushed his shirt off one of his shoulders. Your eyes grazed over his bare upper chest and sharp collarbones before settling on the blue ink resting above his heart.
The skin around his soulmate mark was a little lighter than the rest of his body, because of how often he covered it, which made it stand out even more.
It was the thing you hated most, permanently attached to the thing you loved most, so you couldn’t stop staring.
The glint of the knife tore you from your daze. Jungwon had raised it to his chest.
“Jungwon, what are you doing?”
He paused. “Choosing my own path.”
You placed your hand on top of his that was clutched around the hilt of the knife. You weren’t really sure what he was trying to do, you had never been so in the dark when it came to him before, but you knew that you didn’t like the idea of something dangerous being so close to your boyfriend.
“We should be free to be with whoever we want, Y/N, and for me, that’s you. Mark or not,” he told you.
You stared into each other’s eyes, a silent conversation passing between your gazes. You let go of his hand and watched, torn, as he brought the edge of the knife up to his chest and began to slice a clean line through his soulmate mark. He hesitated before drawing another line in the opposite direction, ending up with an “x” over this tattoo.
The blood dripping from the cut exposed how deep it really was. It would definitely leave a scar, as you knew was his goal.
You grabbed napkins from the picnic basket, carefully wiping the blood away from Jungwon’s skin before it all traveled far enough to stain his clothes. He sat there quietly, watching you, trying to gauge your reaction to what he had done.
You dabbed at his skin gently. With the blood gone you could really see what the knife had done. A red “x”—the blood was already coming back—had marred the small stain of the universe. He had made sure that nobody, not even his soulmate, would be able to see it, let alone recognize it as a copy of their own.
All those years of being told that the universe’s will was absolute and that a splotch of blue ink was the highest law that could be adhered to had been rendered invalid with two swipes of a knife. Jungwon had freed himself from the heavy, groundless expectations set by an invisible force and upheld by your friends, family, society.
The one thing that kept Jungwon from being completely yours (at least, in the eyes of everyone else), was now gone.
The knife lay discarded next to the two of you, blottings of Jungwon’s blood staining the blade and the picnic blanket beneath it.
“Y/N, if you’ll still have me-”
You picked up the knife, already brushing your shirt to the side with your other hand.
“Wait, I never expected you to-” he tried to stop you.
“I want to.”
His hands reached out toward you but stopped halfway, watching, confused, as your fingers traced the mark that, while completely different from his, was in the same exact spot on your chest.
You could feel your heart beating beneath your soulmate mark. It was pumping hard, as if to force the mark off your body from the inside. You thought of how much time you had spent hating the tattoo, wishing you would wake up one day and it would be gone or would have somehow morphed into something that resembled Jungwon’s.
You recalled the night when you realized that you loved Jungwon, no matter how much your own skin was telling you you didn’t, and you had tried to scratch the ink off. Of course, it was much too deep to take off like that, and the resulting redness just made it stand out even more like Jungwon’s had, results of the contempt for your marks.
You mirrored your boyfriend’s movements from before, crossing out your tattoo with the knife and ignoring the bleeding. Jungwon went to clean up the wound with napkins, like you had done for him, but you stalled him, wanting every last remnant of ink to bleed out of your body.
Once the bleeding had slowed down, Jungwon placed a hand over your heart that beat solely for him. His thumb rubbed the tender skin gently, marveling at the new look of it while still being careful around the fresh cuts.
“Look, Wonnie.” you point a finger at his hand on your chest and another at his own. “We match.”
The two of you had overridden the universe and created your own matching pair. A soulmate pair.
Jungwon smiled warmly, a giggle escaping past his lips as you shared this moment of disbelief and freedom and love.
He cradled your face in his hands once again, pressing his lips to yours and making you question how something so obviously perfect could ever be a mistake.
-
A/N: i hope that this isn’t… too much, the idea of two people making this choice for themselves, in this way, knowing that they were defying a fundamental law… i thought it was so romantic! drama is a little necessary when it comes to love, you know?
mwah <3
#yang jungwon#jungwon#jungwon fluff#jungwon angst#enhypen jungwon#enhypen#jungwon fanfiction#enhypen fanfiction
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Suicidal Misunderstanding XIX
Part I - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Part XVI - - - - Part XVII - - - - XVIII
Star Wars Time Travel AU #27
Author’s Note: This chapter may contain triggering material. Depicts canon-typical violence and deals heavily with themes concerning the aftermath of attempted suicide.
“Commander- Cody- CODY! Would you wait up.”
Someone was calling his name, but now that the briefing was over Cody was having trouble focusing past the faint ringing in his ears. He worked furiously to move past the white noise and marshal his sluggish thoughts towards overseeing the shuttling of the remaining on-planet 212th back to the Negotiator, and finishing crew complement reports for General Krell and-
He had barely gotten his train of thought back on track when it was derailed by someone grabbing his shoulder. He barely managed to restrain himself from punching the irritant in the visor.
“What is it, Waxer?” he asked impatiently.
“Can we talk? Alone?”
“Fine.” Cody grunted.
Waxer dragged him into the closest small armament room. At a sharp gesture from Waxer, the few milling clones inside quickly shuffled out.
Waxer pulled off his helmet, eyes wide and sad.
“Cody-” he said hesitantly. “I’m not going to pretend that I completely understand what’s going on, but I’m here for you, whatever you need, if you ever want to talk. I never even told Boil about the- the trip to the temple, or any of it, ok? But I’m really worried about you and I want you to know that you can trust me- even if you just need a shoulder to lean on.”
The ringing in Cody’s head got louder. A beat passed.
“Is that all?” Cody finally asked. “I have work to do.”
“...yeah, that was all.”
Cody made for the door but was stopped by a frantic cry.
“I’m Sorry!” Waxer half-shouted. “I’m sorry- you told us something was wrong and we just laughed and I’m so sorry Commander. And then when you started getting weird and the General wasn’t answering comms I just assumed things were good, but then we found he was sick and I was making jokes about bedrest while he was in sickbay- and then I was remembering the surveillance you put on the Cantina and I made jokes about that at the time but I was right next to him at the bar while you over at the table and now I can stop thinking that he got poisoned while I was right next to him at the bar. And then General Skywalker stepped down from Command this morning and I don’t even want to imagine what would make him do that. And I don’t know what the kark all that was with Krell but I’m so sorry Commander- I feel like everything I say is making things worse but I- I’m sorry.”
It took a while for Cody’s sluggish mind to process all that. He stared blankly at Waxer as he quivered at attention.
“Waxer...” The ringing had stopped, and was now replaced with a growing headache. “None of the General’s injuries or anything are your fault, ok? I- its classified and I don’t- I don’t know what happened this morning but...nothing actually happened in the Cantina. You have to keep this secret- but...” Cody hesitated over how much to say.
His voice dropped to a low whisper. “Practically the only thing I do know for sure is that he wasn’t poisoned. It was just regular alcohol and at most it made him slightly vulnerable... Anyway nothing was your fault so just- focus on the mission. Ok?”
Waxer stared at Cody. He cleared his throat. “You said Injuries.”
“What?” No I- what are you talking about?” Cody asked weakly.
“Commander. You said injuries. Not illness. Are you telling me that the General was attacked?” Waxer asked, voice growing quiet and angry. “Are you telling me that the General was attacked and High Command lied to us about it?”
Cody responded with similar hushed irritation, “No! Waxer- look. I can’t talk about this, it’s-”
“I swear to the force if you say classified I don’t care if you are my commanding officer I will slug you.” Waxer took in a shaky breath, clenching his fists. “Is this why you’ve been wearing your bucket? Because you can’t look your troopers in the face while you lie to us about a threat to the 212th?”
“That’s enough lieutenant- there are things you don’t know-”
“Yeah, because I’m being lied to- I’m supposed to be your lieutenant and even if you couldn’t tell me everything I at least trusted that you wouldn’t lie-”
“We didn’t lie- illness is the best description because even if we don’t understand what caused it, that’s what caused the injuries, and the troops needed to know this isn’t going to be fixed even once he’s technically out of the Bacta tank.”
“What the kriff kind of illness causes injuries you treat with a Bacta tank-”
“Fuck. Waxer, please. I can’t do this-”
Waxer stepped forward as Cody shifted back.
“Cody. Seriously. What kind of illness causes injuries you treat with a Bacta tank? That- that doesn’t even make sense.”
"It’s class-”
“What do you mean the alcohol made him ‘vulnerable’?”
“Lieutenant, I’ve got to back to work-”
Waxer grabbed his arm before he could pull away.
“Commander, was this an attack or not?”
“We- we don’t know. There’s Jedi bantha fodder involved...and, Waxer you can’t discuss this with anyone, I can’t-”
“What the kriff do you mean you don’t know- how could it not be clear if his injuries were caused by an attack or an illness?”
Cody yanked his arm away and shoved Waxer back with his shoulder. The lieutenant quickly regained his balance and charged forward, tackling the commander to the ground, helmet make a hard thud as it made contact with the duracrete floor. They rolled around, each trying to gain leverage over the other.
Cody managed to get on top, knee driving harshly into Waxer’s back, pinning him down. After that, it only took a few more seconds to twist one of Waxer’s arm behind his back.
“Fine!” Cody sneered, pressing hard on his Lieutenant’s neck with one hand while yanking the trapped arm painfully. “You really want to know?!”
“Obviously, asshole” Waxer grit out.
“The general tried to karking kill himself and we have no idea why.”
“no-”
“Or rather we have too many ideas why. Did you know Jedi can take psychic damage from being around too many violent thoughts? Or that the General got abandoned in a fucking planetary civil war when he was a cadet?”
“that-”
Of course, he could have just had a vision that melted his brain and actually he wanted to wake up by killing himself. And if that’s true than it means he vividly remembers the nightmare shit from the hovercar ride. Remember that stuff? Temple burning? Us firing at him while mind controlled? Yeah, could be he just thinks that’s more real than reality, and he’s never going to be able to move on from stuff we didn’t even do. And he might never believe anything we say or do is real ever again.”
“I-”
“Of course, it could be some sort of crazy dark forbidden Jedi attack from Dooku or Ventress because they’re still running around despite all the times we’ve almost captured them, and if it is that then there’s not a karking thing we can do to defend him!”
“Cody, please-”
Cody breathed heavily for a second, staring uncomprehendingly at the trooper pinned beneath him. After a moment, everything clicked into place and he scrambled back, stopping when his back hit a sealed munitions rack. Waxer gasped for breath.
“Fuck- Waxer, I am so sorry, that was, kriff, you shouldn’t have found out that way- I shouldn’t have told you like that, I’m so sorry. I- are you ok?
"Oh yes, I’m doing great,” Waxer wheezed. “How about you?”
“I’m fine.” Cody replied automatically, wincing immediately at the absurdity of the sentence.
“Wizard, so glad we had this conversation.” Waxer coughed, voice starting to get back to normal.
The door clicked open and a trooper Cody didn’t recognize stepped in, looked between Cody, who was braced defensively with his knees up, and Waxer who was panting face down, a small distance away. He immediately stepped back into the hall, not saying a word, door clicking swiftly closed again, lock audibly activating.
Waxer flopped over to lay on his back, head turned to the side to pin his Commander in place.
“...Thanks for telling me, Cody.” Waxer said quietly.
Cody thunked his head back. “You wish you never asked, fuck off.”
Waxer sat up with a groan, “No...Cody you shouldn’t have to go through this by yourself.”
“...Rex knows. Not- not everything I just said. But the basics.”
“Good.” Waxer crawled over to sit next to his Commander, sitting back heavily.
“...I’m sorry, Cody. If Boil ever- I’m just...really sorry.”
Cody dropped his head to his knees. “I can’t let myself feel like that, Waxer,” he rasped. “I was already hanging by a thread and then- I thought he was there at the meeting for a second, and I- the men need me, I can’t focus on stuff that’s going to make me go nuts.”
“Um... you mean you thought he was there, when the Jedi were ‘sensing’ him?” the lieutenant asked tentatively.
“...yeah,” Cody sighed.
“That sounds like force stuff.”
Cody hummed in response.
Waxer took a deep breath. “Did- did it seem like he died?”
“I don’t...know,” Cody answered softly. “He- was there. And then he wasn’t.”
There was a long pause before the Lieutenant spoke, deliberately cheerful.
“Well then, I bet he’s alive. He’s obviously not very good at dying.”
Cody choked on a harsh breath, coughing heavily enough that he finally yanked off his helmet to suck in air.
“For- for force sake, Waxer-”
“You said you couldn’t go nuts,” Waxer said, shoving him with his shoulder. “We’re soldiers, right? This is how we deal with horrific shit that no one should ever have to think about, let alone have to keep to himself for fear of demoralizing an entire army, eh?”
“Waxer...”
The trooper climbed to his feet with a groan, ignoring his commanding officer.
“Come on, let’s get those kriffing manifests completed for Master Krell. I’ll make sure you keep going. For our Vode.” He offered a hand down to Cody, who tentatively accepted it. Waxer yanked him to his feet, drawing his Commander in for a quick, crushing hug, before ducking down to pick up the discarded buckets.
They both pulled on their helmets, puffy eyes and swollen lips hidden neatly.
“For our Vode,” Cody repeated.
They unlocked the door, joining the throng, all company marching to the familiar rhythm of a quickly ticking deployment countdown.
Next (Part XX)
#star wars#my au#suicidal misunderstanding au#star wars au no 27#potentially triggering#violence#suicide references#star wars fanfiction#star wars au
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Chapter 3: Where it Began
summary: Park Jimin is a fuckboy through and through. It’s a well-known fact. His friends know it, the men and women he hooks up with know it, and people who’ve only heard whisperings of his name know it. But what if there’s more than meets the eye? What if that’s only a small part of him? What if…in your endeavor to find out more, you find out more than you bargained for?
genre: social media au, romance, angst
rating: pg13
pairing: jimin x reader
chapter word count: 1.1k
tag list: @nabiwrites @yoongiofmine
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Clubs. You don’t hate them, but you don’t really love them either. You like dancing, you like having a good time with friends, and you even like having a drink on occasion. But, overall, you could do without the music that’s too loud to speak over, the sweaty bodies pressing in from all angles on the dance floor, and the obnoxious fuckboys that permeate the crowds.
It’s, unsurprisingly, where you met Jimin for the first time.
As odd as it sounds, you sensed him before you met him. Skin prickling with goosebumps, a gentle thrill traveling along your spine, you froze in place next to your friends. Raising your glass to your lips, you took a tentative sip as you glanced around.
It wasn’t hard to pinpoint where it was coming from, your body thrumming to life the moment your eyes met his. A wide grin stretched his lips, eyes wandering over your dress-clad form. A chill ran down your spine and you averted your gaze with a soft smirk.
The fact he and his friends approached you was not surprising.
What was surprising, however, was when he addressed your cousin so warmly, as if they were old friends.
“Sunmi,” he hummed, placing a hand on her waist and leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Beautiful, it’s good to see you.”
Your cousin’s answering grin told you all you needed to know. She’d already sunk her claws into him once or twice, maybe more.
How terribly unsurprising.
“Jiminie,” she’d sighed, wrapping a hand around his bicep. “Long time no see.”
Jimin raised his eyebrow, smirk twisting the edges of his mouth. “We saw each other last week.”
She hummed. “Entirely too long if you ask me.”
This earned a snort from his wavy-haired friend and you immediately decided you liked him better. The man’s bunny grin made an appearance when his eyes met yours, nose wrinkling as he nodded toward his friend and your cousin.
Your stifled laugh didn’t go unnoticed by the blond, whose sharp gaze moved from Sunmi to you. The intensity of his stare made you shift uncomfortably, fighting off another bout of goosebumps.
“I don’t believe we’ve met yet,” Jimin drawled, eyes dipping over you. “I’m Jimin.”
You quirked an eyebrow when his gaze met yours, not missing the flicker of interest in his eyes.
“Oh! This is my cousin,” Sunmi explained when you remained silent.
“Our angel,” Minji cooed from beside you, looping an arm through yours.
Jimin’s smirk grew. “Angel, huh? I take it that means you’re the good girl of the group.”
You swallowed hard as the term rolled off his tongue, tone a tinge huskier, and you shifted on your feet. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t affected by it, mouth suddenly dry and stomach swooping.
“Oh, she is,” Sunmi agreed with a small grin. Her hold tightened on his arm. “Actually, she’s so good sometimes she’s boring.”
Jaw clenching, you decided to ignore her jibe and take a big sip of your drink instead.
Still, Jimin’s gaze didn’t waver. Instead, it wandered. Across your face as you purposely ignored your cousin, to the way your lips wrapped around the straw of your mixed drink, to the way your thighs rubbed together ever so discreetly beneath your little, green dress. God, he wanted to tear it off you.
And yeah, maybe he liked the idea of calling you a good girl. Liked the idea of kissing your curves and seeing such a good girl get a little dirty. Maybe he’d even shower you in praise, worship you like the goddess you didn’t even seem to realize you were.
“Hm,” he hummed finally, thumb brushing across his lower lip. “I doubt that.”
You swallowed yet again, this time nearly choking on your drink. You coughed into your fist, causing Minji to pat your back with a look of concern. You feigned a smile and averted your eyes to a point across the room, trying to pretend the man didn’t affect you.
From the impression you got from him, you would have hazard to guess he was like this with a lot of women. You weren’t special. You weren’t the exception.
You were just one in a sea of women.
Which made the excitement that coursed your veins all the more disappointing.
It also meant that every interaction you had with him going forward was tainted, made you think that every word he ever said was just a regurgitated copy of what he said to everyone else.
Because you realized quickly that he didn’t only talk to women like that, but men too, all significantly older, his age, and a few years younger. To him, age and gender didn’t seem to matter as long as they were attractive and gave him the attention he desired.
Because another thing you realized rather quickly is that he liked the attention, actually craved it, and you had overheard him enough times to know it drove him insane not to have it.
So, maybe you’ve gotten a little too much enjoyment out of not giving him attention. Maybe you’ve enjoyed the pout that would draw his plump lips down, would pry his toffee eyes wide. And the flush of his cheeks when he felt slighted by you...felt ignored by you...was a little too satisfying.
So maybe it was a game to you. A little bit of one, but you also really couldn’t be bothered to get involved with a fuckboy. As fun as it would be to explore that, you weren’t really interested in something without strings. Clearly, with the thought of who else he was talking to looming in the back of your mind, it wouldn’t work for you. Wouldn’t bode well.
You are a selfish person in regards to your partner. You want them to yourself, want to know they’re committed to you and that you don’t have to share them romantically or sexually.
It’s self-preservation, really. To protect your heart. Plus, isn’t the old saying that you sleep with every partner your partner sleeps with? And...you really don’t want to sleep with all the partners Jimin’s been with.
Least of all your cousin.
So, when Jimin hits you up, you shoot him down. No matter how often, no matter how bored you are. No matter how much you may want to say yes, even just once, because you can’t afford to. You can’t afford to get involved, then get attached, then get your heart broken.
You can’t afford to get distracted from your life and your goals.
And that’s what Park Jimin is.
One giant distraction.
One you’re adamant about avoiding, regardless of how often he tries to weasel his way in.
You don’t care if it hurts his pride. You won’t give in.
next
#park jimin fanfic#park jimin x reader#jimin x reader#park jimin#fuckboy!jimin#bts smau#bts social media au#bts x reader#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic
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Clexaweek 2021: Day 3 - Reunited (a summary)
Several months after Praimfaya, Clarke is roaming the now deserted Earth without a destination. All her friends on the spaceship actually died (ship exploded after take-off); there’s no Madi either. So she’s roaming the desert when a portal opens and out comes.... her doppelganger.
After a less than warm introduction, because it’s Clarke (and there’s two of them now), Clarke 2 tells Clarke that they don’t just look alike — she’s her but from another world and her name is Ruby. And she makes her an offer (mind you, Clarke is desperate and 100% she is going to die sooner or later): trade places with her. Ruby will stay in the desert, where she actually has the tools to survive, and Clarke can take her place in her own world.
Clarke’s like 🤔 a chance to actually live a life 🤔 know what could’ve been in a different world 🤔 well what the hell, I’ll take it. So Ruby hands Clarke an object that allows her to travel ONCE to another world and they part ways — Ruby stays in our Earth, whereas our Clarke goes to that other world.
Clarke lands in a 16th century style palace bedroom. She barely has time to collect her bearings when the door opens and---
---in full 16th century noble garb, looking heartbroken, when she suddenly sees Clarke and... she nearly faints.
Sixteenth century Lexa goes totally neurotic because her Clarke just died so who is this imposter??? And she knocks Clarke down and is about to kill her (as if she could bring herself to do it) when the door slams open and---
Yes. Another one 👀 two Lexas. Clarke’s lil bi heart can’t take this.
This one is dressed completely different, a lot more sci-fi, almost like a modern deity. And she just comes in and MIB’s the first Lexa and Clarke is like WTF IS GOING ON HERE??? But also-- LEXA????
This Lexa, we’ll just call her Lexa for the sake of both our collective sanity and the story because Lexa is you-know-what, helps Clarke up and asks her to come with her, to which Clarke is like lol no, explain first. But Lexa’s all like annoyed eye roll and look we don’t have time, I promise I’ll explain everything if you come with me. She also assures Clarke that 16th century Lexa will be fine, she just won’t remember what happened.
Anyway, Clarke goes with her and they enter a sort of palace/tower in the middle of space or like in a rift between worlds. There’s a big room there with an oval/round table, which is basically a database for every single Clarke and Lexa in existence. The building is called The Observatory.
Lexa explains that there is a multitude of universes and timelines where the two of them exist. A lot of their iterations have different names, but sometimes they’re called Clarke and Lexa. Those are like their “purest” versions.
So, yes. They’re soulmates. Obviously.
And there is always a Clarke-Clarke or a Lexa-Lexa watching over all of them, making sure everything runs smoothly. Which is what Lexa does. When an Observer dies (time passes normally for them) another takes her place.
Basically, in this AU, every Clexa fic that’s ever been or ever will be written is canon.
Anyway, Lexa tells her tat the Lexa-Lexa or Clarke-Clarke that becomes the Observer is one who has passed away too soon. And Clarke is like 👀👀👀 so are you MY- but Lexa shuts that idea down very quickly.
So what happened to this rogue Clarke? A Clarke aka Ruby has been killing other Clarkes for a while but Lexa has no idea why and she also doesn’t know WHICH version of Clarke she is. There’s millions, billions of their iterations.
She killed 16th century Clarke (whose name wasn’t Clarke), too.
And why can’t Lexa just go after her in Clarke’s world? Because while you can detect anomalies (like a live Clarke in a dead Clarke’s world) you can only locate Clarkes or Lexas if you know WHO they are. Also, the Observer can’t stay in any world for longer than two weeks.
Clarke asks Lexa why she didn’t just go back to her world after being sort of brought back to life. Lexa explains she’s only allowed a short total amount of time in her original world and she already used some of it a long time ago when she went back to help her soulmate when no one else would. Clarke, remembering how her Lexa showed up in the City of Light to help her, says it must have killed Lexa’s Clarke to lose her a second time. Lexa says it was just as painful for her.
And she can’t stay on HER original world for longer than a day — otherwise she dies/disintegrates (and another Observer will take her place.
Clarkes and Lexas are supposed to live out their lives without outside interference. In some worlds they know about soulmates, in others they don’t, bu they need to live in their own worlds and timelines. The Observer observes — everything else is considered tampering with how things are supposed to be. So the time limit rule is meant to keep her from influencing other Clarkes and Lexas and from going back to her own world.
So Lexa can’t just jump into Clarke’s world going after Ruby because it might take too long to find her.
Still, they have a name now, thanks to Clarke — Ruby. So they look it up... Only to find out there’s like a thousand Rubys. Obviously they can’t find a ruby needle in a haystack so they try to understand why Ruby would go on a soulmate killing spree. Clarke and Lexa start visiting every world and BONDING and shit.
There’s also some soul searching on Clarke’s behalf because she’s struggling between being sad about Lexa but also mad because once again she was left behind. And Observer Lexa helps her sort through all those feelings, and our Clarke starts maybe developing some feely feels for this Lexa but also feels GUILTY.
And this one time there’s something Lexa says that makes the lightbulb go off in Clarke’s head.
What if Ruby never had a soulmate?
What if there was never someone meant for her in the first place?
Lexa counters with the fact that several iterations of them never even get together, that being someone’s soulmate isn’t binding — there’s still a choice. But, Clarke says — how heartbreaking would it be to never have a choice at all?
You can never make the wrong choice or the right choice. You can never change your mind. And it’s heartbreaking to have that choice ripped away from you.
That’s Ruby. She never had a choice. And, as they find out eventually, she comes from a world where soulmates are a pretty big deal. Upon finding out by accident that there are billions of Clarkes in millions of other worlds who have a Lexa, while she — sue to some crazy glitch of the universes — had that choice taken away from her, her excruciating pain turned into something ugly. And she decided to start killing Clarkes, so Lexas all around other worlds would feel HER pain.
And that’s how Clarke and Lexa realize what was missing: the numbers didn’t add up. The sum of Rubys with living and dead soulmates didn’t match the total number of Rubys — because there was one whose soulmate was neither dead or alive. She never existed in the first place.
So they manage to filter out all the other Rubys and find the right one. Lexa’s intention is to stun and arrest her, but Clarke is a little more practical and just takes a gun.
Before they go, though, Clarke and Lexa have a heart to heart.
At this point, their feelings for each other are too strong to ignore. So before they go, Lexa asks larke to stay with her in the Observatory even after they catch Ruby. Clarke wants to, but she also feels guilty because she’s falling in love with THIS Lexa and it feels like a betrayal of HER Lexa. And she feels like she owes it to HER Lexa to make an effort to survive and build something in their world. So she tells Observer Lexa she can’t, because she can’t run away again like she did when Ruby came to her. She HAS to build humanity back up in her world. She HAS to survive.
And that’s when Lexa — nervous, tentative Lexa — asks:
“Maybe life should be about more than just surviving. Don’t we deserve better than that?”
So, yes. It’s Lexa 😌
(If you think about it - I didn’t mention it but - she knew which Clarke Clarke is right away. She didn’t ask, the Obervatory didn’t tell her. She just knew who Clarke was. Because Clarke has that scar on her forehead from when Emerson attacked her. And the moment she saw it — she KNEW.)
Lexa didn’t say it before because she knew Clarke would want to stay with her but she didn’t know if there would be any consequences. And if there were and it turned out to be impossible for Clarke to stay, then the heartbreak would have been all the greater, because they’d be losing each other a fourth time.
Anyway, Clexa reconnect and everything is beautiful but they still have a murderous soulmate to catch.
They teleport themselves to a spot close to Ruby. Some fighting ensues, Clarke loses her gun, which ends up in Lexa’s hands, and Ruby ends up pointing her own at Clarke’s pretty head. And Lexa has a double reason not to dire that gun: one, she’s still a grounder and grounders don’t touch Mountain Men weapons; two, she’d be shooting a Clarke for all intents and purposes.
Ruby taunts Lexa about not being able to shoot her, pokes the bear a few times about how she’ll have so much fun killing Clarke — You wouldn’t mind, would you? After all, it’s just another one in a billion —, yada yada.
And then Lexa actually shoots.
And Ruby dies and Clarke runs to Lexa’s arms and Lexa is like, I thought I was over the violence, and Clarke pulls her to meet her eyes: We are now.
Clarke and Lexa go back to the Observatory and Clarke asks if it’s actually safe being there, if she or Lexa won’t be harmed for it. And Lexa tells her she’d been thinking about how everything happens for a reason and maybe, just maybe — maybe this WAS always meant to be their second chance.
(Or third. Or fourth.)
So they stay there and live out their days together traveling between worlds and making a home for themselves in the Observatory. Their maybe someday has arrived at last; they owe nothing more to their people.
#Clexaweek21#Clexaweek21 Day 3#Day 3 reunited#reunited#clexaweek#clexaweek2021#mine#my fics#sorta#all great things
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Proposal fic + hair (braiding/brushing) InuKag
Ooh thanks Nonny 😘
Okay, I'm gonna revive an AU I've never actually written but it's been loitering around in the back of my head forever. I may even write it one day if I feel like doing a longer AU full of comedy fluff. The first bit was posted on Tumblr forever ago, but now it gets to be continued!
Inuyasha wasn’t quite sure how he fell into it; who would have thought you could make a career out of being a model for romance covers for fuck’s sake?! Apparently his half-demon heritage that had blessed him with his father's long thick white hair, amber eyes that glowed in the darkness and pointed dog ears gave him an edgy look, whatever that meant. His ability to retain a lean muscular build no matter what he ate didn't hurt either.
But, the money was very good, even if he had to fight off the occasional stalker, and hide from screaming female fans trying to stuff underwear in his pockets when he went out to buy milk.
His manager Miroku was a total letch, and Sango had been slacking on security - waking up to find a strange woman in his kitchen making coffee in nothing but an apron was more than a little surprising. He actually had more than a sneaking suspicion that something was going on between those two.
But the best part of being a model was Kagome. His photographer, his best friend. He'd known her for years now, and there was no one he trusted more.
Their first photo shoot three years ago had been memorable. He’d accidentally called her Kikyo, and she'd exploded at him. How was he to know? They looked kinda the same, and they were both photographers. It did kinda suck that her cousin Kikyo had possibly ruined her chances of having a serious career in photo journalism, but this gig she was doin’ paid the bills right?
Why did she have to be so serious anyway? He’d abandoned any thoughts of self respect long ago. When you knew what it was like at the very bottom, didn’t know where your next meal was coming from, you understood that self respect was a luxury.
Ah, but Kagome. He couldn't help but love her. Even though this wasn't what she wanted to be doing, she put her whole heart and soul into her work, wanting it to be the best. He knew all her little mannerisms by heart - the way she blew upwards into her fringe when she was feeling frustrated, the way she jiggled her legs under the table when she was feeling fidgety, the way her eyes lit up when she got a good idea for a shot.
He'd always said he'd do anything for her, would gladly take a bullet for her. He'd already blocked a knife attack for her, that had to count for something, right? He'd never been more terrified when she'd been threatened, and the thought of what might had happened if he'd left just a little earlier still broke him out in a cold sweat sometimes.
They'd been closer after her life was threatened, so much closer. He'd been hopeful, but pretty sure she still only saw him as a friend. I mean, how cliche was it for a model to fall for a photographer? He was pretty sure she'd think he was joking, and laugh right in his face. And then on the steps after the trial against that stalker she'd kissed him. And it had been like the heavens had opened and angels had sung.
Kagome had always wanted to be a photo journalist. She'd dreamed of it since high school, starting her career with the local paper, gaining notice when she won a world renowned travel photography competition. That was the chance that should have got her a job with a top magazine, the chance that should have made her career. But it had been stolen by her cousin Kikyo.
Kikyo, who had been her flatmate when they finished high school, so they could share their passion for photography and help support each other in their move to New York as they tried to achieve their dreams. Kikyo, who had taken the message about the year long internship she had been offered after they saw her winning photo. Kikyo, whose features were similar enough to her own that they were often mistaken for each other, if you didn't know both of them that well. Kikyo, who had turned up for that internship and somehow convinced them that she'd used a different name for the competition.
Her cousin had milked that experience for everything it was worth. And now she was the one working for a world renowned magazine, and Kagome was paying rent doing cover photos for romance novels. She may be the best one in her field, but it wasn't quite what she'd dreamed of. It's not like she'd wished upon a star when she was five and asked if she could be the one to discover the next Fabio.
The best thing about her work was spending time with Inuyasha. She'd been so angry at him the first day they'd met all those years ago. Fresh from a weekend at a family event where she'd had to hear once again that Kikyo couldn't make it because she was overseas, doing some big story, and they were all so proud of her. And he'd called her Kikyo, because he'd seen some article recently and mistakenly thought she was her cousin. After she'd calmed down, she couldn't really fault him. They had the same last name, same initial, even looked similar enough.
But he'd grown on her. And it wasn't just his good looks - he had those in abundance, but he didn't really seem to care about that. He was rough around the edges, a little rude, definitely obnoxious, but very funny, charming, brave, and also... kind of sweet?
That day she'd had that terrible cold but had still come to work because they'd had a deadline, he'd given her his jacket and then rushed out to the supermarket at lunch time so he could make her a sure fire cold remedy his mother had taught him. It had tasted absolutely feral, but surprisingly, she'd felt a lot better the next day.
Just a few weeks ago, they had finalised the court case with Inuyasha's stalker. For some reason, Jakotsu, one of Inuyasha's most ardent fans, had bizarrely seen Kagome as a threat, even though it was obvious they were only friends.
At first it was just strange letters delivered to her workplace, which she'd ignored totally. She'd only begun to be worried when weird notes appeared in her own letter box at her apartment. And then the late night phone calls had started.
She'd managed to keep it from Inuyasha until Jakotsu had slashed her tyres, and then he'd been furious. Angry at her for not telling him what was happening, and incandescent with rage at the stalker.
After that he'd been there for her whenever she'd been afraid, so protective and caring. When Jakotsu had snuck up on her late one night in the parking lot, he'd blocked the attack, stepping in front of her in the nick of time, taking a slash to his arm that was originally aimed at her face, then knocking out Jakotsu and holding him until the police arrived.
He'd been the one injured, with nearly 20 stitches in his forearm, but he'd been worried about her. Thank goodness for swift youkai healing. She'd been devastated that he'd been injured, but he'd just shrugged it off, telling her he was glad it was him and not her.
After that, she'd finally admitted to herself that her feelings for him were more than just friendly. Had been for such a long time now. He was gorgeous, but she wasn't the kind of girl that slept around. She needed to be friends first, be comfortable, and there was no one she was more comfortable around than Inuyasha. He was her first thought in the morning and her last at night. But wasn't that a little cliche, a photographer falling for a model? She'd thought he'd probably think she was joking and laugh in her face.
But that moment after the trial and they'd been standing out in the sunlight, she hadn't been able to help herself. She was just so happy, so grateful that he hadn't been injured worse. So she'd practically crash tackled him and kissed him. No tentative pecks. No warning. She couldn't bear to let another day pass without him knowing how she felt. And when he'd kissed her back, with Miroku and Sango cat calling in the background, yelling at them to get a room, it had felt like heaven.
"Where's Yura this morning?" asked Inuyasha, glancing around the make up room, as if she would suddenly appear out of nowhere with her ever present combs and scissors.
"She's called in sick, so you've got me on double duty today. Aren't you lucky?" Kagome teased, poking her tongue out at him.
"So, you gonna model with me too?" he grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist and holding her close to rub his nose softly againt hers. "Who's gonna take the happy snaps?"
"You wish. It's a new model today, Tuva, we haven't met her before. This is for the viking one, so we needed someone with fair hair and pale skin. The photos in her online portfolio are gorgeous. And the agency recommended her, so she should be fine."
Kagome gave him a quick peck on the cheek, laughing at his pouting face, then patted the chair in front of the mirror. "Sit down already will you? I called her earlier to let her know what was going on and she offered to get her own hair and makeup done at the studio there, so now I've just got to do you."
Inuyasha couldn't help the flutter down low in his stomach at her statement, even though he knew she'd meant it innocently enough. She began by brushing his long hair and he closed his eyes, feeling the regular pull of the brush on his scalp, her fingers gently protecting his ears from the rough bristles.
Damn that felt good. If he were a cat he'd be purring, and it took every inch of self control to not let out a deep rumbling growl of pleasure when she ran her hands through his hair, pulling the top back and securing it in a rough pompadour with a ponytail behind his head.
Then her nimble fingers were making small cornrow braids near his temples, adding little leather thongs and silver charms. The gentle tugging of his scalp felt so good. He squirmed in his seat a little, keeping his eyes closed.
"Sorry, am I pulling too hard?"
"Nah, feels so damn good. You're a natural at this. Wanna change careers and become my hairdresser?"
She pretended to think a moment, then giggled.
"Maybe. You're hair is fun to play with. It's much prettier than mine."
He opened his eyes, watching her as her deft fingers twisted his hair together.
"Nope. Untrue. Have you ever seen your hair in the sunlight Kagome? The way it shimmers almost blue? It's beautiful."
Her cheeks pinked, and she glanced at the mirror, her eyes fluttering downwards again when he caught her eyes.
"Stop. You're the one that's the freaking model, Inuyasha. Let me concentrate on this or we'll be behind schedule."
"So Ms. Higurashi can take a compliment about her photography skills but not her person? That's kinda weird don't you think? Especially when you're so pretty."
"Inuuuu..."
"C'mere", he said, tugging on her arm to move her into his lap, ignoring her squawk of protest. "Why can't my pretty girl take a compliment from me, huh?"
"I can! But we're at work right now Inuyasha!"
"Alright, prove it. Look in the mirror and say what I say, and then I'll let you go." She squirmed but he tightened his arm around her waist, pinning him close to her. "Gotta do what I say Higurashi. Gotta keep the talent happy!" She smacked his arm, still trying to wriggle out of his hold, doing her best to hold in her smile, but failing miserably.
"So, how should I keep the talent happy Inuyasha?" she smirked. "You were pretty happy when I left your apartment last night."
He moved his head to rest on her shoulder, looking at her reflection in the mirror.
"Ah, but that's where you're very wrong pretty girl." Kagome's face fell.
"You didn't enjoy last night?"
"Oh I did. Very much", he grinned, bucking his hips underneath her, then kissing a path down the arch of her neck onto her shoulder. "But then you left. And I was in that big empty bed all alone, with no one to keep me company."
"Oh, poor you. You know why I left Inuyasha. You needed to have a good night's sleep before the shoot today, and you know what would have happened if I'd stayed longer. There wouldn't have been much sleeping going on."
He nuzzled into her neck. "Maybe not, but this talent would have been much much happier. I don't want you to leave anymore." Kagome froze.
"You... you want me to move in with you?"
"I want you to move in", he said, his teasing face now serious. "I want you to be with me always. I know we've only been going out for a month Kagome, but I love you. I've loved you for years. And that's not going to change."
She turned on his lap so they were now facing each other, cradling his cheeks in her palms. "I love you too", she whispered. "So much."
"Would it be crazy if... if I said I wanted even more than that?" he asked softly, his eyes searching hers. "Would it be crazy if I said I want to be more than just your boyfriend, that I want more than you moving in. That I want us to belong to each other? And tell the whole world about it?"
Kagome's eyes widened, and her heart began beating wildly in her chest.
"That sounds an awful lot like a marriage proposal Inuyasha."
"That's because, maybe it is. We wasted so much time Kagome. I don't wanna waste another second. Please say yes."
"How could I say no to those puppy dog eyes of yours?" she giggled wetly, her eyes filling with happy tears.
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