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deepdarkdelights · 4 years ago

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Run Little Red (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Werewolf Namjoon, Stalking, Obsession, Forced Relationships, Blood (Lots of it), Gore, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Discussions of discovering dead bodies, People going missing, Devious Intentions, Depictions of Guns, Mourning, Wolf Courtship Rituals

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

<<Forbidden Fables Masterlist>>

Preview: A calm life in a small village was all you ever knew, your days spent in the bakery and keeping to yourself. You liked the quiet and gentle nature of your life, but one day a wolf stands outside of your window, a stranger arrives, and people begin to go missing. Do you dare don your red coat and enter the forest?

A/N: Hello babes! My fellow authors and myself decided to change up the order of our release dates for our Forbidden Fables Collab! And, since I recently finished this little beauty, I get to release it first. yay! Now I can sit back and savor the delectable writings of my fellow authors 💜 I hope you enjoy Run Little Red it was fun to make! I can’t wait to read the comments and asks 💜

There was a wolf outside your window.

It’s eyes gleaming in the early morning light like molten gold with silver fur that melted into the snow.

You sat up in bed, wrapping your patchwork quilt around your shoulders as you scooted to the foot of the bed. It was staring at you, that much you were sure of. And that startled you, the almost human like appearance to its gaze was intense and unsettling. It was an animal, but it appeared to be far more intelligent than you had first anticipated.

Maybe it was hungry, perhaps that was why it was so intent on peering through your window.

No, it certainly wasn’t, that was evident. What you had missed before was glaringly obvious now, its silver muzzle was stained in red. It had made a fresh kill before it had wandered over to your cottage mere feet from the woods.

So, if it wasn’t hungry, why was it here?

You watched in morbid fascination as its tongue slipped out of its mouth and laved over the fresh, thick, crimson blood that decorated its muzzle. You could see the rows of sharp canines hidden within its maw for mere seconds before the wolf clenched its jaw shut and settled on its hindlegs in the drift of snow.

“My, what big teeth you have.” You whispered to yourself, your voice seemingly louder in the empty room.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it had made it’s meal. Perhaps a deer, or a squirrel, maybe a bird, or even a small, innocent, little rabbit.

That would have been ideal. But, you knew it was most likely one of the poor farmer’s livestock. Your village was small and self sufficient, rarely reaching out to its neighboring villages and rarely receiving visitors of its own. So, when the cattle and the goats began to disappear, only their entrails remaining, the town quickly became suspicious.

It was either one of two things, rebellious teenagers making a hassle for everyone, or a wolf amongst you.

If only you had known what was to come.

You stared back warily out the window at the creature, suddenly realizing just how easily it could bust through your flimsy window if it wanted to. This wolf was probably the largest you had ever seen, it was almost the size of a pony, with long limbs that held thick muscle from the time it spent chasing down its prey. You were certain a simple snap of its jaws would kill you in an instant if it desired to do so.

It’s gaze had not left you, petrifying you to your very spot. You felt like the two of you were playing a game, waiting to see who would be the one to make the first move.

The call of your mother’s voice was the tie breaker.

You rose to your feet, your bare skin brushing over the cool wood of the floor as you retreated through your door, back first.

“Yes?” You replied, angling your neck to the hallway for a moment.

“Hurry, sweetheart! You’re going to be late!” She called back from the kitchen.

The bakery had been in your family for the past three generations now, starting with your grandfather, then your mother, and now you. Your mother was showing signs of her age now, her hands were unsteady and unreliable creating more of a mess than a sellable meal. So, it was your turn now. It was the only thing you could do for her, besides be married off and you weren’t quite ready for that. No one was.

At least that was the gentle way of putting it, in reality you had made yourself quite the social pariah. You were a determined woman, one who liked to keep to herself, one who liked owning the bakery and not having to sign over the ownership to a husband. You had your mother to care for, a business to run, and a grandmother that lived deep in the woods to fret over.

It didn’t really matter what you wanted, you did what was necessary to stay afloat.

“Just a minute!” You called once more before slinking back into your room.

There was a noticeable difference about the space now, the wolf was gone. The only sign he had ever been there being the large dip in the snow that his form had disrupted and a track of paw prints headed into the forest. How strange.

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts, you didn’t want to think about what you would have to do if the creature returned. The shotgun looming over you from above the front door said enough.

You couldn’t allow a predator to get comfy around your home, that would only invite trouble into your life.

You dressed yourself quickly that morning in as many layers as you could. The walk to the bakery wasn’t a far one, but it was a frigid one. You made sure to wear your wool stockings and your leather boots, the snow looked to be thick and you didn’t fancy the idea of wet feet all day while you worked.

You leaned over the side of your bed, scooping up your bag and throwing the keys inside of it in one motion. The extra sleep you had gotten the night before had cost you the time you needed in the morning to ready yourself.

Once you gave yourself a quick look over and ran through your mental checklist, you rushed out of your room and into the main room of the house. Your house was more like a cottage, it was incredibly small. With only your mother’s room, your room, and the kitchen in one corner with the fireplace in the other it made for a quaint and cozy home. Albeit a cramped one.

“Your breakfast is on the table.” Your mother said, smoothing a stray hair behind her ear with trembling hands.

You could see her cleaning up the mess she had made that morning in an attempt to show you kindness. Normally, you were the one to wake early and prepare the both of you for the day ahead. But she had also told you many times before that she was your mother and she was supposed to take care of you as well.

You eyed the bowl of steaming porridge that sat upon the rickety table. “I don’t think I’ll have the time to eat it.”

“Then you’ll make the time.” She huffed, wiping a wet rag over the counter in two swipes.

“I shouldn’t have overslept.” You sighed, resting your bag on the floor as you took a seat.

“You needed the rest, dear. You’re up every morning at the crack of dawn and you don’t come home until nightfall. You don’t need to work that much.” She chided you, smoothing her hands over your hair in a fond manner.

“I do, for you and for Grandmother.” You reminded her. The cost of living was not cheap.

“And what about you? You should be spending time with people your age, not working yourself to the bone.”

“I don’t need anyone but you, and Grandmother.” You smiled before sipping at your spoon quickly, hissing as you burned the tip of your tongue in your haste.

“Youth is wasted on the young.” She chided under her breath, spurring a giggle from your throat.

You finished your food as quickly as you could before excusing yourself from the table and heading for the door.

“Your cloak, dear!” Your mother called as you pulled the door open, the chill of the snow seeping into your bones.

“Yes, mother!” You chirped with an amused roll of your eyes as you curled your fingers around the crimson fabric of the cloak. Your grandmother had made it herself two winters ago, as much as you loved it and her you had to admit it was a tad ostentatious and you weren’t exactly one for attention. But it was warm and it served its purpose well.

The door creaked shut behind you, squeaking softly as it settled back into the frame. The snow had fallen much higher than you had previously anticipated. You tightened the ties of your cloak and delicately flipped the large hood over your head before gripping your layers of skirts and hiking them up as you began your journey.

It was rather slippery that day, you couldn’t restrain the slight squeals that fell from your parted lips each time the heel of your boot found a patch of ice and sent you sliding. You were certain you should have caught the attention of a few passerbys, but to your surprise a large group of them had become preoccupied.

There were about fourteen of them, all in one great circle fervently discussing something. They seemed to be worried, panicked even. It had caught your attention now that the group was made up mostly of men excluding the butcher’s wife and daughter. Both’s cheeks were stained red, their eyes brimming with unshed tears as they held onto each other tight in the crisp air.

Your face tensed in confusion as you approached the bakery, the group not too far away from you.

“Oh, poor Sarah.” A tender voice cooed worriedly from next door. It was the tailor, she and her apprentice were stood outside, thick shawls wrapped around the both of them.

You occupied yourself by rifling through your leather satchel, pretending to look for the shop keys you held in that very hand. You knew that eavesdropping wasn’t very polite, but you also were the curious sort, and that curiosity demanded to be satiated.

“Don’t worry, miss. I’m sure they’ll find him soon, you know how the young ones are.” The apprentice said, her hand resting on the tailor’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

“It’s not like William though, he’s a sweet boy. It doesn’t make any sense for him to go up and missing at the crack of dawn.” She replied, her dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I just find it funny is all, that a stranger shows up here the same day that Sarah’s boy disappears.”

“Coincidence isn’t evidence.” The apprentice hummed, pulling her shawl tighter around herself as she began to back up against the shop door, aggravated by the chilly air. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, with a search party that size he’ll be back home in no time.”

With that, you finally retrieved your “missing” keys and unlocked the door, sliding into the safety of the bakery. You knew William as well, he really was a sweet kid...to most. Your heart did go out to Sarah though, you didn’t know the pain of a missing child but you could empathize. The sight of her broken face remained burned into your mind as you readied the shop, lighting the hearth and preparing your materials to start your first batch of bread for the day. Your late start was going to nip you in the behind, most of the women arrived by noon to get their first pick of goods and the two hours it would take to make your batches was going to loom over your head the entire time.

You were mid kneading your dough when the familiar tinkle of the bell above the shop door demanded your attention. You paused for a moment, your aching arms thanking you for the short reprieve. Almost immediately your breath was caught in your throat. You had been expecting one of the regular mothers wandering their way in, or perhaps even one of their children running errands. Not this man that stood before you.

This was most obviously the stranger the tailor had been referring to moments earlier, there was no mistake. Your village was small, everyone knew everyone and this stranger looked nothing like any of the people in your town.

He was so much taller than anybody else, broader too. But most astonishing was his pure silver hair and the deep honey shade of his eyes. You had never seen anyone as young as him with hair that light, it surely wasn’t grey, the shade far too bright to be mistaken with something that dull. He was damn near ethereal and unfairly attractive. His looks had almost distracted you from his attire but now that you were paying attention, he was severely underdressed for the weather. He had to be freezing cold.

“Hello, can I help you?” You asked softly, patting your hands against your apron to remove the excess flour from your skin.

He had a rather confident stance, like he was the owner of the shop instead of you, you who was slightly cowering and thrumming with anxiety.

He sent you a wide grin, his teeth were pearly white and for some unknown reason that sent your heart crashing into your stomach. You could have sworn they even looked slightly pointy at the ends, not unlike those of the creature you had seen outside your window that morning. You had almost been distracted by the sweet dimples that rested in his cheeks. What duality he had.

He tilted his head back slightly, peering down at you from above, “Hm, I’m looking for something sweet.” He hummed.

“Sweet?” You mumbled to yourself, resting your hand on your hip in thought.

“Oh! I made some sweet rolls yesterday, how about that?” You said with a snap of your fingers, retreating further into the shop without a response from him.

Now in work mode you busied yourself with preparing the stranger’s order. You couldn’t help but wonder why he had arrived, what his reason for being there was. Barely anybody passed through your village, and they certainly didn’t stay as long as he had.

Once you had retrieved the tray of rolls you set them on the counter before grabbing a pot of freshly warmed icing and gently drizzling it over top. Once each roll had been thoroughly coated, you set the pot aside and headed to the cupboard to retrieve a bag for them.

“Perfect.” You sighed in irritation, craning your neck back to see the top of the shelf.

Normally, you had endless amounts of bags and never needed the ones stored on the top shelf. But this winter had been far more difficult than past ones and your stock had not been refilled in quite a while.

Desperately not wanting to search for your wooden stool, you stubbornly resorted to balancing on the tips of your toes, your fingers just barely brushing against the material of the bags. You groaned in frustration, bouncing up slightly only to knock the bags back further on the shelf and worsen the ache in your shoulder.

Just as you were about to give up and resort to looking for your rickety stool, you felt a hand settle on your waist and a chest press against your back as the stranger reached up and grabbed the bags for you. He was incredibly warm, so warm you thought he may even be sick. He felt as warm as the heat emanating from a fire of fresh coals and that was incredibly alarming, but also explained his state of dress.

You flinched in surprise as you felt him set the bags aside and settle his other hand on your shoulder. It was deathly quiet, the only sounds being his slow, steady breaths underlying your panicked ones accompanied by the calm rise and fall of his chest against your back. You had never been this close to anyone before, it was incredibly uncomfortable.

You felt much like a rabbit, cornered, panicking, and believing that if you stayed still enough he wouldn’t see you and would go away.

He gently rested his forehead against your hair, nuzzling from side to side before reaching up and playing with a stray strand. You could feel him taking a deeper breath this time, humming softly like he was pleased.

“Sweet.” He mumbled to himself.

Oh. Oh, no. Who did this man think he was? You were not on the menu. You shuddered in fear before jerking away, smacking his hands off of you.

You turned on your heel, backing away from him as you fixed him with an annoyed glare. The look he gave you was one of clear confusion, a layer of hurt and frustration buried beneath.

“I’m not sure how things work where you come from, but normally you ask for permission before you go touching someone you don’t know.” You huffed, slamming the empty bag on the counter as you began to package the rolls.

It didn’t matter if he was attractive or not, you were not going to let him touch you as he pleased or get the wrong message that you weren’t even conveying in the first place.

The stranger rounded the counter, the block of wood effectively separating the two of you, making you feel a little safer. His eyes looked darker than before, less like honey and more like amber.

His confident demeanor had returned, effectively confusing you even more.

“Forgive me,” He said, another smile gracing his lips as he rested his forearms on the countertop, “It seems we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot? My name is Namjoon, and yours?”

So, he did have the capability to be somewhat of a gentleman. He was rather well spoken, and his strange mannerisms and quiet demeanor had all but disappeared in a flash.

So, begrudgingly, you replied with your name.

He repeated it after you, his tongue swiping over the full flesh of his lower lip like he was tasting it, sending a chill down your spine.

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, you were correct in assuming where I come from we do greetings a little differently.” He said with a soft chuckle, his amber eyes tracing every movement you made.

You did feel a little bad now for how you had lashed out at him. Normally, you weren’t one who was quick to anger, but that still didn’t excuse what he had done.

“It’s alright,” You said, slowly, “You need to be more careful though, if that had been anyone else I don’t think you would have gone unscathed.”

“Are most of your people so quick to violence?” He asked, titling his head slowly, a strong sense of intrigue exuding from his form.

“I wouldn’t say so normally, but we’re all a little on edge as of late. Our livestock has been attacked and just this morning one of us went missing.”

“Missing?” He asked, a new glow to eyes.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. The butcher’s son hasn’t been seen all day, it’s very unlike him.” You said, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, unsure if you should tell him more. But, considering it concerned him you felt maybe it was in his best interest to tell him.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t stick around for too long. Some find it suspicious you turned up the same day that William went missing.”

“And what if I don’t feel like leaving just yet?” He asked, disregarding the information you had just given him as if he had no reason to be worried.

You had no answer for him, truly you didn’t. The packaged rolls sat between the two of you and a long stretch of silence as he stared at you and waited for a response that didn’t come. And, without another word, he dropped a few too many coins on the counter, gathered up the bag, and headed for the front door.

He stopped for only a moment, his fingers gently stroking at your red cloak you had hung up beside the door. His amber gaze trailed over each stitch as he lightly grazed the material a few more times.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, little red.”

~~~~~~~

After he had left, your day had not gotten any easier. Just as you had expected, it had been another busy day. You had managed to satisfy all of your customers, despite that late start you had made.

There were a few upsides to the job you had, one being that it allowed you to tune into any gossip you would normally miss out on. You were more of a hit with the older women of the village, the people your age finding you to be a tad strange and off putting.

That day your shop had been filled with hushed whispers of what had come to pass, the search party still had not returned from their trip to recover William. The outlook was not in the boy’s favor, not with the increase in predator activity you had been receiving as of late. You weren’t so sure you would be seeing William walking back into town any time soon.

Once the day had come to an end, the sun dipping just below the tree line and casting shades of red over the snow, you had extinguished the lights of your shop and were locking up, your hood drawn over your head. That was when you found out the horrible truth.

As you slid the shop keys into your bag and turned on your heel, you saw the search party emerging from the woods. And with them, you could see a blanketed form lying in the snow, the sheet swaddling the body slowing turning red.

You swallowed harshly, turning as quickly as you could and beginning to make your way through the snow and away from what you knew was coming. You didn’t want to see the look on Sarah’s face, you didn’t want to watch her go boneless in the arms of her husband. But it didn’t matter what you saw or didn’t see, you would never forget the sound of her screams piercing the crisp, snowy air.

Your breath was visible in hot puffs in front of your face as you felt the burn of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. It didn’t matter if you didn’t care for William, it didn’t matter if you knew what he was really like, there was nothing quite like the sound of a mother’s heartbreak. It was enough to send anybody down to their knees.

Your numb fingers wiped away the warm tears rushing down your cheeks, and amidst your blurry vision you could have sworn you saw a familiar figure slinking off into the woods, a flash of silver hair that just barely materialized. You could have sworn that that was Namjoon disappearing like a ghost into the frigid depths of the forest.

You shook your head, you shouldn’t bother yourself with what he was doing, your main goal should be getting home before the sun completely dips below the horizon and plunges you into darkness. So, with that thought, you rushed home.

Once you entered the cottage, things didn’t get any better. Your mother was stood there, waiting anxiously for your arrival. As soon as you had stepped foot inside she whipped the door shut and helped you remove your cloak as you toed your boots off.

“No more working late, do you hear me?” She said, gripping your shoulders to get you to look at her. “It’s not safe out there.”

“Word travels fast then?” You asked humorlessly.

“It’s a shame what happened to that boy, and I’ll be damned if that happens to you.” She replied sternly.

“And what about Grandmother then? What do we do about her? She’s out there, all alone, with no one to protect her.”

“She has the lumberjack-”

“And he only checks on her every two weeks.” You interrupted, “Let me go out tomorrow and bring her back to us. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”

Your mother bit her lip, her hands shakily settling on her hips as she thought to herself. “I’ll go with you then.”

“No, you can’t possibly think you’ll be able to make the trip. The snow is thick and it’s a long walk there, you’ll exhaust yourself. It’ll be better if I go, faster too.” You said as you approached the fireplace, raising your hands to the flames to warm them.

“And your grandmother, you think she’ll be able to make it back through the snow?” She probed, raising her eyebrow.

She had a point, if you were saying she wouldn’t be able to make it there how would you expect your grandmother to make it back with you?

You rested your hand on the back of your neck, pacing the floor and causing your layers of skirts to swirl around your ankles. You came to a sudden stop, your eyes settling on the shotgun that was mounted above your front door. Idea.

You didn’t like the thought of her being out there all alone, but if you knew she had something to protect her from the wild animals that would make you feel much better.

“Alright, what if I bring her some supplies instead? I’ll grab some things that’ll last her a good while and I’ll show her how to use the shotgun. I’ve saved up some money of my own, I could purchase us a new one.” You mused out loud.

You loved your grandmother, she was the last living member of your father’s side of the family, she was the only connection you had to him at this point. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing her just yet, not when you could prevent it from those creatures that were beginning to terrorize your people.

Your mother was silent once more, her thumb settled between her lips as she nervously chewed at the nail. She didn’t like the idea of you headed out into the woods alone, but she was comforted by the thought of you taking the shotgun with you, that much you were certain of.

“We don’t know when the next storm will hit, and the last thing we need is for her to be stuck out there, all alone, with no food, surrounded by the wild. Let me go.”

And that was enough to break her resilience.

“Promise me, promise me that you’ll come back.” She whispered, her body visibly sagging as those words left her lips.

“It goes without saying.” You murmured, wrapping her up in your embrace.

It was easier this way, you didn’t want to make a promise you had no certainty in keeping.

The air in the cottage had lost all tension, everything was much calmer than before. But your peace could only last for so long. It was when you entered your bedroom that you realized something else was wrong.

The room was positively frigid, and upon further inspection you realized that your window had been pried open, the cold winter air surging forth and snuffing out any traces of heat.

You surged forward and grasped the window, attempting to swing it shut as quickly as you could to try and insulate whatever warmth was left. But the thick scent of copper quickly stalled your movements. Instead of closing the window, you found yourself leaning forward into the brisk air, sniffing intently as you tried to make out where the scent was emanating from. You didn’t have to look far.

Your hands sealed themselves over your mouth, smothering the scream that threatened to break through them.

Sitting in the snow where the wolf had once laid, was a human heart. The snow seemed to sizzle around it, the organ still warm and slick with blood that carved rivers and valleys into the pure ice.

You could feel bile rising up your throat, your vision shaking so violently it made it appear that the heart was vibrating with steady pumps like it was still alive.

And, to your horror, you could make out a form a few feet back in the snow. The only thing that was visible in the pitch black were it’s molten gold eyes, shining back at you in recognition before it scuttled away into the darkness.

You frantically slammed the window shut and drew the curtains closed tight.

There was no mistake now, someone or something had been following you.

~~~~~~~

When you awoke the next morning from a restless sleep, you elected to keep your discovery to yourself.

Although you were incredibly frightened by what you had seen, the last thing you needed was to scare your already frail mother. Your grandmother was still in need of assistance, and you couldn’t allow your mother to halt your plans. You had a mission to accomplish, and you were set on completing it with a shotgun slung over your arm and a picnic basket on the other.

So, you shakily grasped your red cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders in haste, your fingers struggling to do up the ties at the base of your throat. Once you had completed the normally easy task, you slipped your basket onto the inside of your elbow and pulled down the shotgun from its resting place above the door.

You regularly cleaned it, a task your father had enjoyed teaching you at a young age, so you were certain it wouldn’t jam if you needed to use it in a hurry. You slid a box of ammunition into your pocket, one for you, and another box into the picnic basket, one for your grandmother.

And then you were off, bidding your mother goodbye with a hug and a swift kiss to her cheek, and an unspoken promise tittering on the edges of your lips saying that you would be home for supper. But those words were better left unspoken.

The sun was just barely peeking through the thick clouds overhead, you were certain a blizzard was brewing. This only urged you to move quicker through the cleared paths.

But the clouds weren’t the only foreboding message that morning, it was the mother’s wailing in the town square. There were three more now, holding each other in a comforting manner as they wept into each other’s shoulders.

More children had been snatched from their mothers.

Sarah sat by herself, of her own volition, an obsidian mourning veil obscuring her tear stained features. A chill ran down your back as you urged yourself to walk by them quicker, she looked more like an executioner than she did a mourner, surrounded by a choir of weeping women.

You could still hear the echoes of her cries in the back of your mind, the raw chords striking your ears once more.

You tightened your grip on the strap of your shotgun, your pace slowing as you reached the bridge that led you into the forest. You felt like you could breathe now, despite the knowledge that people your own age had lost their lives in the thick overgrowth before you. The relief that you felt from the women in the square outweighed your fear.

The bridge creaked in protest as your boots tapped against the wood. It would need to be repaired come spring.

“Little red!” A voice called from the treeline causing you to suddenly stop, snow kicking up beneath your boots.

Moments later, a familiar figure emerged from the frost coated trees, tall, ash hair, and honey eyes. Namjoon.

“Where are you off to, little red?” He cooed, his voice low with a sultry edge that sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t tell if they were delighted or terrified chills.

“My grandmother’s, what are you doing here?” You asked, your body tense and defensive.

He drew nearer now, a wide grin gracing his lips with a set of teeth so white they resembled the snow beneath your boots. The closer he got the more you noticed about him. His perfect white teeth seemed a little sharper than most, and the clothes he wore were once more, not suited for the frigid weather.

“I caught sight of this old thing,” He hummed, his finger tracing over your cloak and the strap of your shotgun as he slowly circled you, “And couldn’t help but see you.”

You stepped back hesitantly, his presence was unnerving. Without saying anything more you pulled away from his reach and began to walk by him briskly, headed into the woods.

“Leaving so soon? We only just met.” He laughed, it would have been a nice contagious laughter had you not heard the bitter edge to it.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the time to dawdle, Namjoon. I need to reach her before the storm hits.”

“Well then, won’t you let me accompany you?”

“I don’t need an escort, I know my way just fine, thank you very much.”

“And what about the beasts then?” He asked from beside you, sending you halting to a stop.

“Beasts?” You asked slowly, gazing up at him from beneath the cover of your hood.

“Well, surely you know?” He asked in a patronizing tone, his honey eyes narrowing. “Four people from your village have gone missing, red. Surely you know that wasn’t an accident. Great beasts have roamed this forest for centuries and they don’t take kindly to intruders. It would be much safer if I came with you.”

You stood there for a moment in silence, contemplating his words. He was not wrong, two people were much safer than just one.

So, begrudgingly, you accepted his offer.

His hand quickly captured your own, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pressed his side tightly to your own with a grin. How bold. You were struck once more by the fact that he was incredibly warm, it was no wonder why he wasn’t bundled up like you were. It felt like he had struck a fever.

Namjoon filled the silence between the two of you surprisingly well, telling you stories of the great beasts that roamed the woods, effectively scaring you and holding your attention. He had a way of speaking that drew people in, like a siren from the stories your father had read to you.

It was easy to forget with him, easy to forget why you had been frightened in the first place, easy to sink into his side as his warmth seeped into your flesh, and easy to get lost in his voice.

That was of course, until you felt him pulling you off of the path.

You dug your heels into the snow, tugging at his hand violently. “Namjoon!”

“Yes?” He asked.

“What are you doing? Her cottage is this way, we stay on the path, we never leave the path.” You said, gesturing towards the dirt pathway beneath the two of you.

That was a spoken rule in your village, never go off of the path.

“That’s ridiculous,” He chuckled, “If we continue the way you were going, that doubles the time it takes to get there, it’s better we take the shortcut.”

“No.” You sternly said.

“And why not?”

“Because, there’s predators out there! Mountain lions, bears, wolves!”

A mischievous smirk pulled at the corners of his lips, “Are you scared of wolves, little red?”

“I’m scared of anything that wants to eat me.” You replied with a dry tone.

“Well you do smell very sweet-”

“Namjoon!”

He took a deep breath, his eyes darting between you and the shortcut. “I promise you, nothing will hurt you while I’m here. Besides, did you know some flowers bloom in the winter?”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“I am, there’s a field of flowers this way, all different breeds that bloom in the dead of winter. Don’t you think your grandmother would enjoy those?”

You chewed at your lip uneasily. He knew exactly what to say to make you question your own actions. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to see what he was talking about, and you knew that yes, your grandmother would be elated by something so cheery in the bleak winter months.

So, after a few moments of consideration, you agreed.

And Namjoon had not been lying. After a few minutes of trekking through the deep snow the two of you emerged into a clearing, and just like he said, it was filled with flowers of all different breeds.

You found yourself crouching down into the field, your fingers trailing over each velvety petal that had somehow found a way to survive in the clutches of an icy death. Your favorites were the deep red roses. They were a dead match for your cloak, a beautiful color that was delicately dusted with soft flakes of snow.

You couldn’t help but greedily pluck several blossoms from the foliage, slipping them into your basket.

And, amidst your excitement, you hadn’t noticed just how close your companion had gotten until you felt him. That incredible warmth had returned as he crouched down behind you, and just like he had in the bakery, you felt him lightly nuzzling your head and breathing in your scent as he pressed himself closer to you, his arms winding around your body in an attempt to pull you even tighter to him.

You froze, your finger mid pull on the rose’s stem causing you to slice the appendage on a stray thorn. You hissed in pain as you watched the blood drip from the tip of your finger before rolling down your wrist and carving a pool into the snow beneath you.

And, without a thought, Namjoon’s hand encircled your wrist and yanked it up to his face.

His once honey eyes appeared brighter than before, his long lashes fluttering as his warm breath misted over your skin. And before you could stop him, he licked a line up your wrist, collecting the blood, and pressed your finger to his lips swiping his tongue over the wound.

You yelped in surprise, wrenching your hand free from his grip as your heart pounded violently. You rose to your feet and stumbled backwards through the snow.

Namjoon remained where he was crouched, a sudden hunger evident in his honey gaze, a gaze that was not so unfamiliar.

“We-we need to go!” You stuttered, turning on your heel and retreating from whatever had just happened.

You held your hand close to your chest as you walked, frightened by what had just transpired. A part of you suddenly wished you had made your journey alone as you had previously intended.

But the harsh crunch of snow behind you reminded you of the choice you made, and the molten glare digging into your back exemplified it.

~~~~~~~

The rest of your journey was made in complete silence, a new tension had settled between the two of you. And, true to Namjoon’s word, the way he had taken you was indeed a shortcut. So, you felt no remorse as you sprinted toward the cottage ahead of you and threw a weak thank you over your shoulder.

You couldn’t stand the awkward tension anymore, you couldn’t stand being in his presence any longer than you needed to.

As soon as you approached the front door, you threw it open and let it shut behind you. You leaned against the door for a moment to catch your breath before you shrugged the shotgun off of your shoulder and strung it up on the hook beside the front door.

“Grandmother!” You called as you began to approach the kitchen door, “I’m here!”

And upon opening it, a blood curdling scream broke free from your lips.

The sight before you could only be described as a massacre. Your hands desperately tried to cover your eyes, but the damage had already been done. There was blood, so much blood amongst other things laid out atop the counter.

You fell backwards, your body sliding down the wall as hoarse screams raked through your throat. The unmistakable scent of blood was thick in the kitchen sending your stomach churning in your gut. You knew that scent, it was clear as day whatever had remained in that room had once been human.

“Sweetheart?” A familiar voice called out to you.

And upon opening your eyes, you saw your grandmother standing before you. The sudden feeling of elation surging through your body at the sight of her alive quickly died out. She wore a leather apron stained with blood, both fresh and old, and her hands were gloved. You quickly stood and began to back away from her, your sense of self preservation suddenly kicking in, your eyes zeroing in on the meat cleaver she held in her left hand.

“Sweetheart, calm down.” She whispered softly, carefully setting the blade down on the counter beside the gorey mess.

Your eyes were darting everywhere but her, panicked breaths leaving your parted lips. Your gaze finally settled in the corner of the room where a pile of clothing sat and a familiar axe. The lumberjack, she had murdered the lumberjack.

“Why?” You cried, trembling as if you had been drenched to the bone. “Why did you do it?!”

“I had too sweetie, I have to feed them.”

“Them? Who?” You asked, backing out of the kitchen as she followed your trail, her face soft with sympathy despite the flecks of blood that decorated her cheeks.

“The wolves, of course. I made a deal with them long ago, if I fed them in the winter I could stay here.” She replied, her voice alarmingly calm. “The lumberjack was a sweet man but this winter was a rough one, not many travelers I’m afraid.”

“You’ve gone mad.” You whispered.

“I know this is a lot to take in, but it’s best if you listen to me darling. Your grandfather was one of them, he courted me and then we had your father and your uncles. It’s always tricky with litters, you never know who is going to take after who. Your father though, he was the most human out of all of them. Poor thing couldn’t even shift.” She sighed, her eyes glazing over.

“You need help, you’re not well.” You tried again, doing your best to keep distance between the two of you.

“I know you’re a bit shaken up, but you need to listen to me, it’s in your best interest.” She sighed, untying the leather apron from around her waist.

“That cloak you’re wearing, it’s a symbol that you’ve come of age and Namjoon has had every intention of courting you. He’s been rather obvious really, he’s becoming quite frustrated with you.”

You suddenly became still, your mind flashing through every time Namjoon had ever touched the very item you were wearing. What she was saying, although deluded, had some semblance of truth.

“I-I have to go.” You mumbled, your throat tightening from the copper scent and smell of flesh that hung heavily in the air. You needed to get home and far away from her before she killed you too.

A deep sadness spread over her features as her head hung low, shaking from side to side. “Don’t run,” She breathed, “They find the chase seductive.”

All this time you had been slowly backing away from the person you loved the most, and now you had been stopped by the feeling of a solid form behind you. You quickly spun around, a shriek of horror escaping you as you met the bright, gold eyes of your escort, Namjoon.

And, without thinking, you ran.

Your cloak was fluttering behind you rapidly in the harsh, cold winds, the snow coming down thicker than it ever had before. And, to your absolute horror, a loud howl was echoing throughout the trees.

You peered over your shoulder as you sprinted to the best of your ability through the snow drifts. The wolf that had sat outside your window days before had returned and was chasing you down. Now that there was nothing separating you from the creature you were terrified, it was massive and hunting you down. It had the clear advantage, you were inevitably going to die. You were never going home again, another child was going to be ripped from their mother.

Tears were pouring down your cheeks like waterfalls as you blindly ran, unsure as to where you were going. You knew that you didn’t have time, four legs were faster than two and you were greatly impaired by the weather.

With no goal in mind, no destination in sight, you ran in hopes you would be able to live for a little longer. You did your best to weave between the trees, slide down hills of snow, and keep running for your life. Your lungs burned and your legs ached but still you ran, even as you heard the loud steps of the wolf coming nearer and nearer.

And, just as you had lost all hope, an outcropping of rocks became visible at the base of a snowy hill. And with every intention to save your life, you recklessly threw yourself down the hill allowing gravity to take over for you.

The second you felt yourself cease rolling, you rose to your unsteady legs and dizzily stumbled into the cluster of rocks, pulling yourself into the shelter away from the blizzard.

But your hope was fleeting as you came to a realization. The shelter was a den, one that had clearly been in use. It was littered with furs, blankets, books, and materials for a fire. The creature had been corralling you to this very location.

You turned as another burst of adrenaline shot through your body only to be stunted by the sight of the silver wolf blocking the exit to the den.

It’s bright eyes stared back at you with a gleam of satisfaction as it crouched down, shimming it’s way into the den and backing you up further into its depths.

You watched, horrified, as the wolf began to whimper, it’s body shaking violently as the sound of bones beginning to snap and crunch echoed throughout the space, reforming and distorting themselves into vaguely familiar shapes as it’s fur began to melt away.

Those bright golden eyes faded to a recognizable honey shade, and the silver fur disappeared and showed itself as ashen hair. On the floor of the den sat Namjoon in the place of where the powerful wolf had once stood.

He carefully rolled his head from side to side, his neck cracking loudly in response as he rose to his feet. A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips, a triumphant gleam to his eyes as he confidently approached your trembling form.

A broken cry escaped from your throat as you felt him press his forehead to your own, lightly nuzzling his head against yours. His strange behavior now made sense, he had been courting you in a way that was unfamiliar to you, but natural to him.

All of the people that had gone missing were male’s your age, he had been wiping out the competition.

And the bloody organ he had left outside of your window, had been a horrific present. A show of his dominance and his twisted affection.

You were crying uncontrollably now, everything you had experienced suddenly crashing down on you. You flinched in terror as you felt his fingers grip your jaw, his lips just brushing against your own and he hummed happily.

“You have nowhere left to run, little red.”

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maplecornia · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 4

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.06K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: this one is literally just revolving around one of the BTS members. i don't really have much else to say other than HYUNJIN'S BACK and I'm crying.

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne

Kim Namjoon never imagined he would lose his assistant.

JaeJin was a great worker and a great friend. He loved music and expressed it through his very soul, his every move whenever he danced or helped Namjoon produce a song. Namjoon smiles as his hand hovers over the soundboard.

In the back of his mind, he remembers the days spent here ever since Jaejin was promoted to his assistant. He remembers the first time he met his dear friend, how nervous Jaejin looked, unspoken excitement reverberating off of him in waves.

As Namjoon pushes up the volume on the soundboard, he thinks back to the moments spent as Jae learned how to be his assistant, as Namjoon taught him as much as he could. How what started as respect turned into a mutual friendship, and later, a brotherhood.

Though Namjoon is sad to see JaeJin go, he is happy to see his dream accomplished. He will miss Jae's smile, his laugh, and his good heart, but he knows that just because Jaejin is taking a different path doesn't mean they will cease to be friends.

As soon as Joon finishes a part of his song, he sighs, pulling away from the board and whipping out his phone.

He doesn’t know why he started thinking about him all of a sudden, he was one of the first people to know that Jae was leaving. Besides, he would see him soon, it’s not like Jaejin leaving for a couple of months means that he won’t ever see him again.

Standing, RM walks out of the room, leaving Suga to continue by himself.

He's lucky that Yoongi has his headphones on. If he caught Namjoon slacking he wouldn't get off easy. Carefully, RM exits the room, shutting the door softly behind him as he leans against the wall next to the door to the studio. Turning his phone on, he checks the time, his heart thumping slightly.

8:30 am.

Perhaps the reason his mind is so full of nostalgic memories is that he’s been waiting since last night to meet his new manager.

Jaejin said that his replacement should show up around this time, but he hasn't given much information other than that. Namjoon pockets his phone and heads down the hallway towards the front lobby.

Staff members pass by him, some working for TxT, others for the new girl group they put together about 3 years ago, and even more for the new boy group that BigHit began putting together in 2020.

Namjoon finds their presence surreal.

The members of BTS's staff have been around ever since their debut, and even more, have joined the crew over the years. These staff members will no doubt do the same for their groups, maybe stick around till the very end.

If anyone asked Namjoon's opinion, he would say it was the staff that had to do the real work. And all from behind the scenes. They are the ones who help them put on a great show. They are the ones who tutor them, provide for them, allow them to create their vision, their masterpiece. They are the stitches behind the fabric.

To Namjoon, BTS is just the face. The whole idea of them, of their message, was created through everyone's effort. Including ARMY, including their staff, including BTS themselves.

Losing one of their members would be like trying to fill a hole that cannot be filled.

Perhaps that's why Namjoon is so worried about Jaejin's replacement.

No one can truly replace him.

Namjoon never wanted a new manager.

There was a reason he chose Jaejin out of all the others, a reason he turned a backup dancer into his manager. He needs someone with the same passion, the same grit, the same determination that he has. Jaejin had that, and more. He was able to keep up with Namjoon’s crazy schedule, his unhealthy habits, his tendency to overwork himself.

Normally it was Suga trying to keep up with him, trying to help him, trying to do the best for him, but when he met Jaejin, he found exactly what he needed in a manager.

Will his replacement be able to do the same?

Entering the lobby, he knocks on the counter, where a receptionist is taking a call. She looks up at his knock and he smiles at her, receiving the usual smile back and a slight blush on her cheeks.

After a moment of their little staring contest, Namjoon grows impatient. He indicates silently that he’s waiting to speak with her and her eyes widen in realization. She nods sheepishly at his signal, holding up one finger to signify to him that she'll talk to him in a second. He complies, settling in as she continues her call, faintly aware of Kim Namjoon behind her.

Namjoon is never sure how to feel about these types of things.

People recognizing him in the street, others noticing him even with a disguise, he doesn't know what to do with the attention.

Why didn't people pay attention to him before? When he didn't have all the makeup, the money, and the influence? Are they looking at him because they appreciate who he is as a person?

Or because he is Kim Namjoon?

RM of BTS.

Putting the thought out of his mind, he turns his back to the receptionist, unlocking his phone, and opening the chat with Jaejin. He doesn't see any sign of his replacement, but then again, how would Namjoon know what she looks like?

Hey

YOUNG APPRENTICE- oh hi, what’s up hyung?

When was your replacement supposed to be here again?

YOUNG APPRENTICE- ummmmm, 8:00 am or so, why?

RM pulls away from his phone, looking around for any sign of a girl who looks lost or out of place in the lobby. Every time Jaejin talked about this so-called friend, he referred to them as a “she” so the only thing Namjoon knows about this new manager is the fact that she’s female.

Sadly, as he desperately scours the lobby, there's no sign of anyone there that fits the description. The one girl who was waiting in the waiting area has just been called aside and led to a meeting room. Namjoon, a little worried, bites his lip before a buzz in his hands causes him to glance at his phone.

YOUNG APPRENTICE- Namjoon?

Yeah?

I’m sorry it’s just….she’s not here yet

YOUNG APPRENTICE- WHAT

Namjoon rolls his eyes playfully at Jae's reaction before walking out of the lobby. If she's not here, there's no need to hang around, and it doesn't seem as though the receptionist is paying much attention anyway.

As he leaves, the receptionist stares after him almost hopelessly, Namjoon oblivious to the longing gaze.

He glances at his phone once more maneuvering his way through the hallways of the building.

YOUNG APPRENTICE- are you sure?

YOUNG APPRENTICE- I'm gonna murder her

Well I can’t know for sure

Could I have a picture or maybe a name?

YOUNG APPRENTICE- I never gave you one?

Not to my knowledge

YOUNG APPRENTICE- oh I am so sorry hyung! Her name is Lin Yen and just give me a minute and I'll find you a picture

"Lin...Yen...." Namjoon murmurs, pondering it in his mind.

"Just who exactly are you?" he whispers, putting the phone down once more as he comes to a stop in a corner of the hallway.

Yen...he repeats in his mind, playing around with it, trying to see how it sounds on his tongue, how it feels circling in his thoughts, how it plays on his voice.

It's a beautiful name, one he hasn't heard often, and for some reason, he feels as though it's foreign. Another vibration from his phone jolts him out of his pondering thoughts, and he looks down at the screen, immediately bursting out laughing.

Jaejin has sent the picture of you, but it's not just any picture.

It's a picture of you eating salad.

But that's not what makes it so funny.

You and Jaejin are at a Korean BBQ in the picture, and you hold the signature salad bowl up to your face, your chopsticks hooked around an enormous bite. You're shoving the bite into your mouth, your cheeks puffed up like chipmunks, your eyes wide and nose pinched.

Your expression, your face, the fact that you're attempting to shove a huge bite into your mouth, everything about the picture is hilarious, and Namjoon can't stop looking at it.

He can't stop looking at you.

Now he is sure that you are a foreigner, with that complexion and your facial features. You aren't necessarily tall, but not super short either. Then again, Namjoon doesn't think that Park Jimin is short, so what does he know?

One thing is for sure, though…

You are beautiful.

And it’s not only the physical things that make you beautiful, though they are a contributing factor.

It’s the personality.

The charisma that exuberates off of you, managing to touch him most charmingly through a mere photo. The way you smile, how it lights up your eyes. The blush of your cheeks, and even the color of your hair. Everything about you has captured his attention, and he can't look away.

His smile doesn't want to fade, so he covers his face with his hand, leaning against the wall. No doubt he looks like an idiot, but he doesn't care.

You have that gift.

The natural gift of familiarity when you are less than strangers.

And it has surprised him. The cool, calm, professional, wise Namjoon wouldn't have thought that such a thing could reach his heart...and yet he can't stop smiling.

"Namjoon."

Startled, the smile fading just as quickly as it began, Namjoon jumps, his phone slipping out of his grip. Frantic, and a bit embarrassed, he fumbles to catch it before it falls, but to no avail.

He watches in hopeless despair as the phone hits the ground with a sickening thud, the screen immediately cracking at the impact of the harsh tiled floor.

Namjoon lets out a groan, while a slender, pale hand reaches out and picks it up. Wincing, he glances to his side.

Where Min Yoongi holds his phone in between his fingers as though it were a dirty piece of trash; looking unamused. Glaring at him with a stare as cold as ice, he drops it into RM’s hands before folding his arms across his chest. Namjoon rolls his eyes at his luck, sighing inwardly.

He doesn't look too happy.

"Hey, Yoongi, I--"

"Yes, please explain, Kim Namjoon." Yoongi drawls, his voice monotone and sending shivers down Namjoon’s spine. Almost shamefully, Namjoon turns off his phone and slides it back into his pocket, avoiding that icy stare.

"You're supposed to be helping, yet you left for what? To laugh at memes? Now is not the time to be fooling around with Jackson for heaven's sakes!” Though Yoongi doesn’t raise his voice, the severity of his tone is enough to make it seem as though he has and Namjoon has to restrain himself from visibly flinching away from him. After a moment of silence, Suga sighs, rubbing his temple with frustration. “Why are you so distracted today?"

Joon has been asking himself the same question.

"For one thing, they weren't memes and I wasn’t talking to Jackson. It was a picture of Jaejin's replacement. I was trying to see if she's arrived yet." He explains, a bit indignantly, before walking away towards the studio once more, hoping to escape the conversation.

He should have remembered that nothing escapes Yoongi.

"And did she?" Suga follows Namjoon, managing to walk fast enough to catch up with him and yet still look nonchalant and unbothered. RM sighs at the question, speeding up his pace, as he notices the studio door in the distance.

Jumping at the opportunity, Namjoon makes a break for the door, Yoongi calling after him in surprise. He reaches it, leaving Suga behind in the dust. Opening the door he sinks into a chair as though it were a refuge from the uncomfortable situation he found himself in. As Yoongi comes to a stop in front of the door, Namjoon acts as though he were there the entire time.

"Do you need something?" he asks innocently, and Yoongi rolls his eyes, walking in and closing the door behind him before settling into a chair of his own.

"Yes. I need you to focus on this project. This is important, and is nowhere near done if it's going to be our next title track." He murmurs, immediately setting to work, his mouse echoing in the silence. Biting his bottom lip in guilt, RM turns back to his phone, frowning a bit at the sight of the cracked screen.

Yoongi is right, Namjoon knows this.

They dedicated this day to work on BTS’s new title song.

Namjoon especially wanted Yoongi to produce it because of his incredible skill and work ethic. He practically begged him to take time off from his other projects to work on this with him, Yoongi is sacrificing a lot of his time just to be here.

Namjoon knows how important time can be.

It doesn’t help matters considering how this song is so essential to their comeback album. Promotion is still far off, but it doesn't change the circumstances. ARMY waited for them for so long to come back to them, it’s only fair that they give them the most groundbreaking album they can.

But RM can't focus.

And it’s for such a stupid reason.

Just because Jaejin is gone doesn't mean the world will fall apart.

He knows this, it's just...

Namjoon smiles a bit bitterly, turning back to the booth as he resumes his work once more.

"She wasn't there." Suga turns to Namjoon at the sound of his voice. Namjoon notices but doesn't pay any mind, continuing to play with the soundboard, creating his type of spell, his sort of magic. "In response to your question."

Yoongi doesn't respond, waiting for Namjoon to finish. That's the way he is, sometimes RM can’t finish a thought in one sentence and it takes him a moment to piece things together, what with everything else running through that expansive mind of his. Suga knows when to wait, when to stay silent, and allow RM a chance to tell him everything he needs to.

He's no stranger to listening to people, especially when it comes to Namjoon.

Sometimes, Joon just needs to let something out without anyone saying anything, and Yoongi won't say anything unless he feels it's necessary. He’ll listen, and be there for anyone to lean on, able to offer them the emotional support they need to carry on.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm a little nervous to meet her." After a moment, Yoongi responds to him, his soft voice carrying across the room in a comforting murmur.

"What's the big deal? If she's professional, she'll be perfect. I'm sure there's nothing to be worried about." He reassures him. RM nods, trying to concentrate once more, and put the thought of your arrival to the back of his mind.

Maybe Yoongi is right, maybe there is nothing to be worried about.

However, Namjoon can't help but think that your arrival will change their lives.

And who knows if it'll be for the better?

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: how are you guys liking Jaejin now? lol

chapter 5 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

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burning-thistles-bt · 1 year ago

Note

So for Frosted Thistles, did every apprentice have a crush on Whitepaw/storm or just a few? and why? (Sorry if I'm getting confused but I thought at least a few of them had crushes on him)

ahaha this is so relevant to what im doing right now

but here's who had a crush on him:

Frostfur Redtail Tigerclaw

here's who didn't have a crush on him:

Spottedleaf (lesbo) Brindleface (aro/they're besties) Willowpelt (only got a crush on him as senior warriors)

and Whitestorm had a crush on:

Willowpelt only

#frostfur spread gossip abt BrindleWhite being mates #frostfur shipped everyone at some point tho #and Adderfang assumed Spotted was mates w/ White at some points #and willow thought he was cute but she like. wasn't focused on romance at the time #she vaguely knew he had a crush on her as apps and was shocked to find he still had one as warriors #White is Straight so Tiger and Red were Brother-zoned so hard #lolling response #bt ships #ft apprentice group #frosted thistles #whitestorm #willowwhite #burning thistles #burning thistles au #asked and answered #anon ask

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chubbytummy · 3 years ago

Text

¸.·✩·.¸¸.·¯⍣✩ ⓗⓔⓛⓛⓞ ✩⍣¯·.¸¸.·✩·.¸

welcome to my personal blog!! ヽ(^◇^*)/

my name is jelly!! ૮ᴖﻌᴖა

about me :

彡♡ i'm 18 years old

彡♡ my pronouns are she/they

彡♡ i'm bisexual

彡♡ i am single ╥﹏╥

彡♡ i'm a mutual gainer!

彡♡ i currently work as a baker's apprentice

彡♡ i'm new to this! please take care of me! ( ͒˃̩̩⌂˂̩̩ ͒)

♡´･ᴗ･`♡ ♡´･ᴗ･`♡ ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

just a few things to keep in mind:

彡★ this is a kink-centric blog dedicated to soft!feedism. if that's something you don't like, move on!! please and thank you!! ~(^з^)-

彡★ i am an adult!! minors, do not interact with this blog, please and thank you!! it would make me uncomfortable, so please stay safe and away!!

彡★ i will NOT tolerate hate, bigotry, mean comments or harassment of any kind. it won't be entertained, either!! blocked!! take your negatively elsewhere!!

♡´･ᴗ･`♡ ♡´･ᴗ･`♡ ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

i'm kinda nervous ʕ⊙ᴥ⊙ʔ but i'd like to post on here soon!! here is a list of what commissions i will and will not do:

will write:

彡✿ weight gain/feedism (obv)

彡✿ wlw and mlm!!

彡✿ BTS (YES 100% ヽ(^◇^*)/)

彡✿ most kpop groups (if i don't know/stan them, i'll do some research)

彡✿ ocs!! if you have a character of your own you'd like me to write about, i will!! i will credit you for your character as well!!

彡✿ imagines and reader scenarios with character/person of choice

彡✿ platonic/romantic pairings

彡✿ nsfw (nothing too crazy hehe)

彡✿ sickfics

彡✿ burping/eructo

彡✿ epructo/scat (only for sicfics)

彡✿ emeto (not the best but i will try!!)

彡✿ anything to do with tummy rubs

彡✿ fluff ╰(✿´⌣`✿)╯♡

彡✿ hybrids and fantasy

won't write:

彡✿ vore (absolutely makes me uncomfortable but to each their own!)

彡✿ death

彡✿ immobility

彡✿ impossible wg

彡✿ wlw/mlm fetishes (NO!)

彡✿ anything involving minors (NO!)

彡✿ body shaming

彡✿ anything involving degradation

TRIGGER WARNING!!

彡✿ anything involving eating disorders or body dysmorphia!! those are issues i, myself have dealt with and would not enjoy to relive!! thank you!!

♡´･ᴗ･`♡ ♡´･ᴗ･`♡ ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

please send me asks or message me!! please reblog if you can, it would be a big help!! i will try my best to be a blog worth following!!

♡(.◜ω◝.)♡

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #eructo #bts feederism #feeder kink #feedisim #chubby #chubbiness #fatten me up #wlw community #writer #bts fanfic #fantasy feeder #weight gain

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akookminsupporter · 2 years ago

Note

Nooo, but the fact the HS left but came back becoz of JK, JK planning to left the group to be a dance apprentice instead but stayed after a conversation w/ JM, and JM having almost getting kicked out of the group multiple times before debut but didn't becoz of TH... I'm Fine 🥹

BTS is 7 💜

https://twitter.com/queersuga/status/1583751492875747328?s=20&t=_BlZRPsSRIAKfbwDn7Kr8w

💜

#ask #bts

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mountphoenixrp · 3 years ago

Photo

We have a returning citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Arwyn Lachance, who is known by no other name, a 25 year old son of Mani. He is an apprentice designed at For the Fairest and a fighter at The Pits.

FC NAME/GROUP: jeon Jungkook from bts CHARACTER NAME: Arwyn Nikodim Lachance AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: March 3rd 1997 PLACE OF BIRTH: Crete, Greece OCCUPATION: Apprentice Designer at For the Fairest, Dress Boutique ; Fighter at The Pits HEIGHT: 179 cm WEIGHT: 57 kg DEFINING FEATURES: Arwyn was born with naturally silvery-grey eyes, which gives off the impression of them glowing in the dark at times, especially when he’s particularly emotional. Arwyn is also said to resemble Mani the most in physical qualities and features, delicate, handsome and soft in contemplation, but also with the propensity to be rather fierce and cold as well.

PERSONALITY: Emotional, Delicate, Sensitive and Melancholic, Compassionate and Empathetic, most of Arwyn’s personality and emotions are affected by his powers and its relation to Moonlight. He’s a lonesome figure, keeping mum about his problems and issues and forever drifting from place to place, never settled in one particular area and always finding it awkward to remain as if it is natural for him to be in some place without having to leave.

Self-sacrificial , insecured and almost self destructive in his personal relationships, Arwyn cannot help but constantly blame himself, due to the side effect of his powers and its relation to the darker and colder energy of the moonlight. He is currently receiving occasional professional help for his self-destructive behaviours and tendencies to cut his personal ties away from others out of the blue, though Arwyn also has the tendency to skip some counselling sessions, due to not being used to opening up to others.

He’s learned how to box over the years, and has taken to expressing some of his self destructive tendencies through The Pit’s fighting rings in the cover of the night.

HISTORY: Arwyn is delicate, in many ways to none.

He’s five when relocates to Denmark, to be closer to the Norse Pantheon—and his intangible guardian, the goddess Sol. The touch of the moonlight upon his face is cold, unlike Sol’s warmth in her words, lonesome and draped in the skies, silvery rays cast upon his face and aglow in his silvery-grey eyes, a hand raised to the skies and melancholy etched on the lines of his youthful face.

“ Am I bad?” He asks the question to the woman in the mirror in his hand, adorned with a thousand splendid golden suns, bathed in the warmth of the a sunlight that shouldn’t be present in the darkened night skies and the glowing chariot beneath her feet. “ That’s why they left?” It’s a question that he needs no answers for, cheek rested against the marble and fingers curled into the front of his covers, bedspreads tangled between his pale legs. He’s not bad, Arwyn imagines the goddess assuring him with a gentle touch of her hand to his face, wistful and concerned. Mani’s the one that’s bad.

It’s a lie, Arwyn tells to himself, even as he clings to the thought of it with all the fervence he could ever wish for, and the beat of his soul, bared in his hands.

…

Things don’t change for the better, even as he grows older, and his understanding about his powers grow wider.

Its affecting you. Perhaps like all the others. He wonders why Sol cares so much about him, takes him under her wing almost like her own child, when he’s nothing of her own. Perhaps he reminds her of things that she wishes were once before, he whispers to himself in the depths of the night, eyes aglow and thoughts lingering upon the sadness in her eyes as she turns her gaze towards him.

Perhaps, he’s a shadow—of someone that she tries to hold onto.

A man with dark hair, silvery eyes, and a melancholic smile upon his face.

Mani.

He has little to no knowledge of his godly parent, the only memory of Mani being the moment he turns his eyes to the rounded moon in the skies, pulsing with silvery coldness and the lack of warmth that one could feel from afar. Were all moon gods from the various pantheons like that? Unfeeling yet cold?

He asks himself that question when he tends to a deer’s broken foot, the pulses of silvery light emanating from his fingers as he watches the wound mend, another part of his soul emptied for another.

It will come back in time. He comforts himself gently at the thought. Its not as if it will be gone, forever.

And he has to do so, since that’s his only useful purpose left in the world.

PANTHEON: Norse CHILD OF: Mani POWERS:

Lunar Powers: Arwyn is able to tap into lunar energy, manipulate and control the flow of it. Its one of his most practiced powers, though it holds no particular special effect or aspects.

Lunar Healing: Tapping into the energy of the moon, Arwyn can heal people relying on the power of the moon, though there are certain conditions to be fulfilled. Unlike demigods with healing powers due to their godly parent, the source of Lunar Healing is self-sacrifice . For every person that Arwyn heals, including himself, he has to pour out a fraction of his soul along with it, since genuinity is the only thing that’s worthy enough to be exchanged to heal the mortal and physical soul. This power exhausts Arwyn a lot, and tends to drain him and affect his emotions very deeply. Even when used on himself, using Lunar Healing can cast Arwyn into more than a month’s worth of emotional turmoil and pain, with his mental health taking a serious blow.

Lunar Regeneration & Physiology: In the same line as Lunar Healing, Arwyn can very very slowly regenerate his own wounds, especially when he fights in the night, and under the influence of the moon. However, this speeded factor of healing and enhancement also affects his emotional capacity like much of his other powers as well.

Lunar Generation: Arwyn is able to generate, manipulate and shape Lunar energy into specific items that can help him, especially when fighting. Whilst he’s proficient in fighting with his bare fists, Arwyn’s most preferred form of sparring is utilising Lunar Generation to constantly conjure up throwing knives to hurl at others, either for distraction or intention to hurt. His accuracy is incredible due to his honed willpower and focus, as well as his deep sense of responsibility towards everything he does.

STRENGTHS: Responsible, Compassionate, Sensitive WEAKNESSES: Melancholic, Insecure, Self-sacrificial

#kpop rp #krp #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #mp; welcome

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leafpool-loves-ashfur · 2 years ago

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why did i do this to myself

yep its a Burning Thistles Friendship Map as of Chapter 101! ...well, and a few spoilers, technically, but shhhhh. they’re minor anyway lol. i made sure not to do the big spoilery ones ;)

betcha cant identify every character here lol (i feel any avid BT fan could name 31/32 of them, bcus that 32nd one is a curveball whose only been important in like... 1/101 chapters. and prob only mentioned in.... 5/101?)

anyway here’s all the names, have fun putting them to faces: Fireheart, Sandstorm, Cherryfur, Creekflower, Oliver, Airleap, Morningflower, Onewhisker, Copperleaf, Dawncloud, Grasswhisker, Silverstream, Lightningfur, Mousefur, Runningwind, Darkstripe, Longtail, Dustpelt, Ravenpaw, Barley, Runningbrook, Ashheart, Cinderfur, Tallpoppy, Mistyfoot, Graystripe, Gremlin, Brackenfur, Feathercloud, Cricketheart, Scraps.

so there are also a lot more characters in this “friend group” but i tried to only hit the major ones. but just to have the full scope here, I’m gonna list every main-main character’s friend group. this means NOT including kin, so no sibs/parents/niblings

Fireheart’s: Runningwind (BFF), Darkstripe (ex-BFF/brother-figure, still wants to be friends w/), Sandstorm (crush), Cherryfur (friend through his sis Creekflower), Graystripe (apprentice), Cinderpelt (apprentice), Brackenfur (apprentice), Oliver (through Creekflower), Mistyfoot (apprenticehood friends), Stonefur (apphood friends, not as strong as Misty’s), Cinderfur (apphood friends), Onewhisker (apphood friends)

Creekflower’s: Cherryfur (BFF), Sandstorm (frenemies through Cherryfur/Fireheart, who are both friends w/ her), Brindleface (queen friends), Runningwind (through Fireheart), Longtail (mutual hatred; through Cherryfur) Mousefur (through Sandstorm), Oliver (mates), Oliver’s kittypet friends (through Oliver)

Lightningfur’s: Silverstream (BFF), Mousefur (ex-BFF, no longer friends), Rippleclaw (supporter), Sedgecreek (Sedge has a crush on her; she hates Sedge), Beetlenose (supporter), Mallowtail (supporter), Grasswhisker (thinks Grass is annoying but also Grass is her step-mom technically), Vixenleap (supporter/through Grasswhisker), Shadepelt (supporter), Greenflower (supporter), Mistyfoot (through Silverstream) .... (really Lightningfur has no friends at this point since Silverstream’s death)

Airleap’s: Morningflower (platonically raised kits together; his first WC friend), Onewhisker (friend; One probably thinks of Airleap as his closest friend), Ashfoot (friend), Deadfoot (friend), Runningbrook (friend), Whitetail (friend), Ravenpaw (mentorly towards him), Barley (through Ravenpaw), Sandstorm (from the mission/through Fireheart; he doesn’t think they’re friends but Sand feels defensive over him bcus of what happened), Tallpoppy (same reason as Sandstorm), Cinderfur (same reason as Sand and Tall but less so)

Copperleaf’s: Dawncloud (QPR mate/BFF), Cinderfur (BFF), Ashheart (friend), Tallpoppy (friend/Dawn’s BFF), Whitethroat (through Tallpoppy), Wetfoot (through Tallpoppy), Badgerfang (son-in-law/mutual respect), Flintfang (mutual respect), Fernshade (mutual respect)

Darkstripe’s: Fireheart (ex-BFF/brother-figure, still wants to be friends w/), Runningwind (ex-friends/kinda still friends but distant), Cherryfur (mutual hatred), Longtail (apprentice), Dustpelt (apprentice), Tigerclaw (idol), Onewhisker (apphood friends that grew apart)

Feathercloud’s: Graystripe (kithood friends that grew apart), Ravenpaw (ex-mate/crush), Brackenfur (BFF/crush), Gremlin (from mission), Scraps (from mission), Barley (through Ravenpaw), other WC cats (through Ravenpaw)

Spottedleaf’s: Yellowfang (most trusted), Mudfur (sympathetic to her), Bluestar (admirance; now weakening), Brindleface (rekindling friendship), Frostfur (formerly; crush), Tigerclaw (only slightly; formerly), Whitestorm (kinda awkward friends now)

Frostfur’s: Willowpelt (formerly), Spottedleaf (formerly), Redtail (formerly), Whitestorm (formerly/strained politeness on Whitestorm’s end), Tigerclaw (reluctantly/formerly), Speckletail (BFF; starting to strain)

also everyone hates Grasswhisker and its... kinda sad. like, hello, she’s a victim... yeah she’s been really mean, but truly it’s been out of fear and desperation for Thistlestar to love her and only her just like she loveslovesloves him (why can’t he just love her? why isnt she good enough? her mind cries). like Airleap was the only one who was like “Hey wait a minute-” (and now everyone hates her bcus she was mean to Airleap... by blaming him for murder)

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bangtancentricsblog · 4 years ago

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jhs/qw: 1

↳ with a war on the horizon, there is only one person who could take the throne when it all came to an end

❒ pairing: jung hoseok x reader

❒ genre: Angst(?) tbh idk

❒ alternative universe: historical, mythology,

❒ rating: PG 15

❒ word count: 3.3k+

warnings/disclosures: rebellions, it’s really more MC x bts than Hoseok but it has the potential to lead to mc x hoseok, greek gods because that is my thing, nothing bad, just some talks of death, nothing graphic i swear

main ml • AO3

The streets are dimly lit, shadows obscuring the tracks that the small group of armed soldiers have left. The air is damp, no doubt the scent of the oncoming rain, but the quiet of the night isn't all that's off putting as one would usually assume when it came to the Kingdom of Dionysia. There are no terrifying screams or wailing moans of the sick and injured, rumors of the rebellion grow louder the longer the royal family does nothing. Though this little band of men know that the rumors are not rumors at all, for they have done much work under the cover of shadows. The group turns a sharp corner leading them to an unmarked door, one that towers over the rest, an information guild, or at least an illegal one according to their sources. They knock their fist against the aged wood, a code to let them know they are friends looking for information or merely a place to rest for the night.

The door swings open slowly an eerie creak accompanies it, on the inside stands a burly man, tough looking but young. His features are pinched as his gaze rakes over the group, even the sole hooded figure among them, especially them for they have hidden their face from his sight. He grunts shooting a look to the side and no sooner is a new man standing before them. His build is different, he’s taller, leaner perhaps, packed with much less muscles but still looks just as strong, not as rugged but strong nonetheless. His gaze is trained on the hooded figure, eyes squinted in the little light provided by the candles. He can make out no features only knows that they are of much smaller build than any of the others in their party.

“The rest of you can come in, but they can’t.” he says with a furrow to his brow.

“They are one of us, we can vouch for them.”

“I don't know them, how can I trust your word.”

“You just can, their identity isn't important right now.”

“Reveal yourself, or leave.” He mutters narrowing his gaze on the hooded figure. The group seem unwilling to leave but it is out of their hands on whether they should reveal the identity of their companion. The man in the door gasps at the sight, beautiful ringlets of hair cascade down their back as the hood comes off, their eyes twinkling in the candlelight. He’s quick to bow his head, in shame or in fear he’s not sure because before him stands the crown princess.

“There’s no need to bow your head, I understand your hesitance, but don’t worry I am not your enemy.”

“I should be punished for my insolence, your highness should not be in a place like this.” He says head still bowed.

“Raise your head, I know you are still wary of my presence but if you will allow it, I shall prove to you that I come only to offer my help.” you smile placing a tentative hand on his shoulder watching as he rises to his full height, he towers over you almost like the titans of old. He says nothing more, instead meeting the gaze of your Major who stands too close for it to be proper.

“C’mon Johnny we have more pressing matters to attend to.” Yoongi says shoulder checking him not unkindly, more playful than anything in the way that men do. He steps aside following the older man further into the building as do the rest of your party. Johnny leads you all to a room in the back, one hidden with a small incantation that both shocks you and soothes you. He must be of elven descent you think following them through the door and finding a room filled with maps of the kingdom Dionysia, it’s split into four sections the North, East, South and West, red chalk has marked areas that have already joined the rebellion. Black chalk circles areas that have yet to be touched that much is obvious at least to you. In the center of it all is the largest map wooden figures sit in many places, most of them are located in the West and South. The East for the most part remains untouched by said wooden figures, a troubling idea for you and the rest of your party as you gather around the table.

“Our men have already taken the western and southern ports, just as you instructed Major Min. The merchants were eager to join our efforts to usurp the king. The North is proving to be the most difficult as the imperialist faction holds more influence in the area surrounding the capital.”

“And the East, what of their ports?” you ask, bringing the attention to you. You can feel the reluctance of the men who stand before you, truly you understand but there is one thing they have yet to understand.

“We have yet to send anyone.” a new man speaks up. His face betrays no emotion, but it’s one you recognize easily. A smirk tilts one side of your lips as you gaze back at him.

“Thank you Lieutenant Kim, it has been a long time has it not?”

“It certainly has, Commander, or would you rather I call you princess?” he says his own lips twitching up in a playful smile, one you relish in just the slightest. The room has gone quiet after your exchange, many of the unknown faces scream shock at the simple revelation. By now you have grown accustomed to such a reaction, for most men would liken you to a fragile bird who should be kept in it’s gilded cage only to be sold to the highest bidder.

“I think it’s about time I formally introduce myself.” you sigh, shooting Taehyung a glare before finally removing your cloak. They are surprised to see that you are not dressed in lace and silk, as one would assume a princess should be, no, you wear the colors of the rebellion. The knight uniform you wear is the same black trousers, and white shirt but the coat which once was black and red has now become white and a soft blue with gold embellishments.

“I am______, first princess of Dionysia, Commander and orchestrator of the rebellion, pleased to make your acquaintance.” you breathe bending at the waist in a bow. Surprisingly the rest of the meeting goes smoothly as you plan your next move.

The capital is in mourning some time after you visited the information guild. News of the princesses' untimely death has spread far and wide, the king has made it so that people believe it was the work of the rebellion. An attack on a royal carriage, one that took her life, the tale is well crafted you must say, on both parts. The rebels have played their part well, the king had taken the bait as you had said he would, and you were finally free of his reach, a pawn that no longer sat on his board. Now came the hardest part, the war really was looming on the horizon, your party has grown, and you have all taken refuge in the forest, setting up a camp far away from the capital. Your little group has grown vastly as there are more than 50 knights, healers and even priests helping to aid you in the fight for a new reign.

Currently you are in the main tent, the one used to talk strategy the one only higher ranked knights can enter and a few selected others. There aren’t many in the tent, only yourself, Major Min, Captain Park and a knight you have come to know as Yeonjun. Yeonjun is your shadow and apprentice, he’d once been a mercenary for hire but had joined the rebels when your small group passed through his hometown. His skills are more than ideal, in fact he is naturally gifted so much so you hardly have anything to teach him, yet he insists on learning from you. As it is your efforts in destroying the current ruling monarchy is going smoothly, you aren’t afraid of the imperialist faction, not by a long shot but there is something foreboding about their lack of movement in the last month.

“Yeonjun, take a small squad with you and travel to the capital, we need to know what the nobles are plotting.” you say as you stand over the map, something swirls in the pit of your stomach, something unpleasant. It seems that the time has finally come.

“As you wish, Commander.” he says with a bow exiting the tent, leaving you with Jimin and Yoongi.

“Major Min, I need you to travel to the East, take only the best men. I trust you to standby and await further instructions once you arrive.”

“If I may ask Commancer, what am I looking for?”

“There is someone in the east who you must protect, no matter the cost. Prepare for the ride, come here once you are ready to depart.” He bows leaving you alone with Jimin.

“Captain Park, send word to our men in the south and west, have them slowly cease all shipments of goods to the capital.”

“But Commander what about the commoners, they will starve.” he asks his tone filled with hesitation.

“Make sure all the commoners get their food rations, and carefully evacuate them to the hidden estate that resides in the north-west.”

“I shall do as you say Commander.” he says before turning to leave.

You take a seat after he’s gone, quickly scribbling down the name and location of the person Yoongi will be protecting. The unpleasant feeling from moments ago has yet to subside, it really is unsettling the longer it persists. It settles just the slightest, as Yoongi returns, the stoic look he usually carries is replaced with something softer.

“We are ready to depart, Commander.”

“I can see that, eager are we Major?” you tease playfully.

“Eager to carry out my task and quickly return to your side.” he says, and there’s this soft twinkle in his eyes. You recognize the emotion easily despite not having experienced it yourself, you know that he’s in love with you.

“I pray the goddess grants you safe travels.” your gaze is guarded, as if to keep him out.

“I will return to you safely Commander. I swear it, I will come back to you.” he takes a step forward, he’s standing too close but you don't mind. You cup his cheeks, smiling softly watching the slow blush color his cheeks. He looks almost bashful like this, it’s endearing.

“Save those feelings, for I am not worthy.” you whisper.

“You are.”

“No, keep them safe. Something so precious shouldn’t be wasted on me, one day you will find someone who will feel for you what you think you feel for me but it will be pure.” the words you speak sound cryptic to his ears but he will take them if that is what you wish. If you wish to push his confession away then so be it, but he will not find someone else like you.

“I will await your orders Commander, may the goddess bless you.” he says before leaving the tent. You offer a smile at his back, you know he will meet his one in the east, for the east holds many changes. Jimin announces his entrance, taking note of the way your skin has lost some of its color in the time he has been absent.

“Are you feeling well?” he asks, his concern evident in his tone the longer he stares watching your skin lose more of its color. You offer him a smile, one that doesn’t settle his being, you wave him off saying it’s fatigue and that you’ll be taking your leave. You ask him to call for Seokjin and direct him to your tent, you leave him in the tent alone hoping that he does as you asked.

Seokjin is bursting through your tent, gaze falling to your form easily as you stand near the desk in the back. You don’t look too good, your skin has lost much of its color, he can see the faint sheen of sweat that clings to your hairline. Something is wrong, so terribly wrong but he’s not sure what it could be.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks, he watches intently as you open your mouth only to spit up blood. Your knees wobble and you're soon hurtling towards the ground, luckily Seokjin is quick to break your fall. His gaze has grown wide watching as you continue to cough up blood, it stains your hands and your shirt. There’s a water bowl sitting on a table beside your bed as he sits you down dunking the cloth that sits beside it in the bowl and cleaning your face and hands. The shirt you wear is ruined, but he supposes he can get you a clean one. He waits till you’ve cleaned up and changed clothes to ask.

“Have you been taking your medicine? Your symptoms shouldn’t be this severe with the medicine i’ve given you.” he says taking your pulse.

“They hinder my abilities.”

“So what? Do you want to die?”

“I need to be able to use my abilities to their full capacity, especially if we expect to win the oncoming war.”

“And we will, we have neighboring kingdoms support. The knights are loyal and will follow you onto the battlefield. There is the small matter of the man you are hiding in the east. So please take your medicine, our efforts will be for naught if you leave us before your time.”

“My dear friend, it seems you have yet to understand. This vessel is deteriorating, and I’m afraid my end will come sooner than we’d like.”

“What do you mean by vessel, is your body not your own?”

“Do you know the story of how our kingdom came to be?” You ask and the way you speak has always confused Seokjin, it’s almost like a riddle, it’s something that has persisted throughout your life. A trait he cannot say he’s fond of.

“Of course, but that is more fairytale than history.” He answers.

“As the story goes, the goddess Hera allowed for the twin prince and princess to reign over this land if and only if they could conquer it together. Prince Ares, god of War and princess Eris, goddess of Strife were surely set up to fail as their mother did not want to part with them. So she watched over them in wonder as slowly but surely they conquered all, winning the wars that had plagued this land for far too long and so when the final war was won she had no choice but to allow them to rule over the kingdom they had forged and fought for themselves. Loyal followers were given titles of nobility, Ares became king and Eris queen regent until Ares finally took a wife. They ruled together for many years following their victory, until Ares finally married, and Eris just vanished, as if she had never been there at all.”

“That is how it has always been, which is why no one thinks it’s history.”

“But it wasn’t, there is more, in the palace there is a book that tells the full tale. Eris, happy for her brother, did not mind the lack of authority she would hold but Ares would not have it, for she had been the most crucial part in forging this great kingdom. So in return for her years of service gifted her a title of nobility on par with that of the king. She became the sole Arch Duchess of Dionysia, with a vast amount of land in the north west that would be her duchy.”

“We don’t have an Arch Dutchy, at least not one that I know of.”

“Not anymore, I removed all traces of the land and title. Eris became Arch Duchess, and while Ares sired an abundance of children, Eris fell in love with an oracle. She gave birth to a single child, one that gained the power of their father. For many years after, Eris' true descendants gained the power of the oracle, a power that was kept secret hidden from that of the Kings that came after Ares. Like Eris, the children of Ares’ line gained his power, a sign of their divine right to rule, another legend no one truly believes, but one that very much still exists.” you sigh heavily, the air wheezes out of your being and it troubles Seokjin. He’s never seen you look so fragile, not for years.

“Unfortunately, my mother couldn't avoid the gaze of the king. She wed him, knowing she possessed the power of the oracle, and the king remained none the wiser. He only thought he’d married himself a beautiful concubine. The power of Ares never manifested in the king, the same goes for the crown prince, neither of them showed any signs of being worthy to hold Ares’ power. The truth is the king isn’t my father.”

“That cannot be.” Jin gasps at the simple way you’ve uttered such a thing. He’d known of the rumors, the whole kingdom knew, idle gossip spread by the noble women. He never believed them, no one had since your mother had only spent her time in her home and in the palace.

“It is, my mother was already with child when she married the king. There was a man she had loved, one she’d left behind to keep her family safe. Unfortunately the king still destroyed her family, virtually erasing it’s once long and noble bloodline. The line of Eris will end with me, but not before I put the true king on the throne.”

“What are you saying?”

“I hold the power of the oracle, and Eris, but none of those are the reason for my deteriorating body. I may not be the daughter of the current royal bloodline, but the king’s brother, a man he would have me call uncle, was my father. The power of Ares did not manifest in the king and the crown prince because I already held that as well.” Your skin has warmed significantly. It's almost too warm, Jin is growing more and more worried the longer you go without being treated.

“We should treat you, we still need you commander.” he says, tightening his grip on your hands.

“I won’t leave you yet, the goddess awaits me once I cross the threshold, but not yet, my time hasn’t come we still need him.” you whisper slumping forward into his hold, the fever you run is too high he’s afraid that they’ll lose you. He’s begun to chant quietly over you in the hopes to help alleviate the pain if only for a bit. The war is yet to be over and he doesn't know what will come if they were to lose you so soon.

Yoongi arrived in the east four days after his departure, the village is small, smaller than even his own before he’d become a knight. He sees no sign of anyone matching the description you had given him, and for once he thinks you might’ve been wrong. It would be the first, though he’s not sure what to make of it if you are. Still he sends the other knights to search for this person, he clicks his tongue directing his horse towards the meadow he sees. He thinks of the description written in your pretty penmanship, golden skin kissed by the sun god Helios himself, dark hair gifted to him by Erebus, blessed with beauty by Aphrodite, strength like that of Hercules, he goes by the name of Hoseok.

In the field he came upon a man, one whose description matched that of the one you’d given and yet there was something that you’d left out. Something much more terrifying than anything he had encountered in all his life. For as Yoongi gazed upon the man named Hoseok only one word came to mind, one that had been buried deep in a fairytale but one he knew on a personal level, for he was just like you, this man was a “Demigod.”

tagging @boymeetsweevil because I’ve been teasing her with this since February 🤭 this one is for you bb🤪

#bangtanedu #heartsforbtsnet #bangtanarmynet #mine #emm writes #an emm writes production #jung hoseok x reader #emms hoseok content #mine writings #alternative universe: royalty #alternative universe: mythology #quick writes

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