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sailoryooons · 1 year ago

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Gods of the Dark | Two | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Dream god!Yoongi x f. human!reader

☾ Summary: Don’t ask for help in the dark. It’s an old tale you always heard whispered among the people of your village. But when you find yourself dragged kicking by the man you’re to marry, you have little choice but to beg for help long after the sun has set. The god who answers your pleas promises to save you, but every deal comes with a price.

☾ Word Count: 21,443

☾ Genre: Fantasy, angst, strangers to lovers, smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Sexist and patriarchal society inspired by medieval europe, a lot of world building and discussion about theories/concept of dreams, discussions of morals and ethics, world building, angst, mentions/light depictions of an abusive family, discussions of gender roles and forced marriages, attempted murder via arson, sexual dream sequences, depictions of oral (f. receiving), exposed bodies (in a brothel), pining, townsfolk essentially bullying reader, intense nightmare sequences, light depictions of PTSD (including memories of almost drowning/being physically attacked), explicit language, idiots who are obviously into one another being idiots, recreational drinking, topics of desire, feelings of shame, depictions of anxiety and fear, slight voyeurism, attempted murder

☾ Published: December 2, 2023

☾ A/N: It's finally here! This chapter took so long to write and I want to apologize for how long it took. The creative process can be so difficult sometimes, and I have been having a very hard year, which reflects in my writing. Thank you for sticking with me - I really hope this chapter is okay. This originally wasn't going to be as slow of a burn as it is, but this is where the story took me naturally, so I hope that's okay with everyone. I am going to be adding an extra chapter to this now to tell the story the way I want, so we will have five total chapters to this. I am already working on chapter three, and my goal is to write just this series until the next three chapters are done! Note: The sections of italics are used to indicate dream sequences for this fic - the way I use these are very specific and with intent... that's the only hint I will give you.

A huge thank you to @here2bbtstrash for being my beta reader - I give them huge beta projects with very little time to do them, and this story would not be nearly as polished or tuned as it is now without them. Also thank you to everyone who has been so encouraging and patient with me - your kind words are not lost on me and I'm thankful for you all!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Eyes in the sky crying geysers How dare I have private desires

First is your mother’s screaming. It’s loud enough to make you clap your hands over your ears, wincing as she drops all of the things in her hands. Second is your father storming into the house like a hurricane, an axe clutched in his hand from cutting wood in the yard. When he sees you, he blanches and takes a few steps back, raising the axe.

“Demon,” he whispers. He reaches for your mother and pulls her behind him. “You are a demon.”

“No, I-”

Without a warning, your father launches the axe at you. You scream, arms going up to block your face, unable to dodge the attack. There’s a loud crack as the axe hits an invisible barrier. You feel your hand fly to your open mouth, staring at the axe that’s now hewn in two on the floor.

Silence follows the destruction of the weapon. In that silence, it occurs to you that your father has attempted to kill you, and was only stopped by whatever protection Yoongi promised you. The realization is dizzying and you stumble away from your parents a little, bumping into the wall that separates the kitchen and the entryway.

No one says anything at first. Your mother clings to your father, trembling violently. Her hair is greyer than you remember and it looks like the last few days haven’t been kind to her. But she has always been soft and weak.

It’s your father who no longer looks the same. Always such an imposing figure in your life, he looks aged. His face is wrinkled, his hair is grey. His presence is so much smaller than you remember, once full of rage and ferocity, now just a terrified man in a doorway.

You cannot believe this is the man you’ve spent most of your life afraid of. Where once stood a great fear of yours now stands nothing more than a shadow of a man. Weak. Afraid. Vulnerable.

“You can’t hurt me anymore,” you say in a voice much steadier than you feel. “You can’t marry me off, you can’t make me burn my books, and you can’t hurt me anymore.”

“What kind of demon are you?”

It occurs to you that you could tell him you’re not a demon. You’re just you, with a little added protection. But the realization that they are afraid of you wakes up something ugly inside of you. Something oily, that slithers, something wicked and sharp.

You don’t have to tell them you’re not a demon. You don’t have to tell them that you are. They have come to that conclusion themselves, and it has put them beneath you. Afraid of you. You’re more powerful than you’ve ever been in this home.

So you let them think you are. “The kind that survived Nathaniel Laudermill beating me in the woods and trying to drown me.”

Your father straightens. “That wasn’t supposed to happen! You weren’t supposed to run and he- he wasn’t supposed to hurt you.”

“Well, he did. And he paid for it, didn’t he?”

When you say it, you have a sneaking suspicion that Nathaniel Laudermill is dead. When your father nods feebly at your question, the knowledge slides into place. You don’t feel bad. It almost horrifies you that you don’t, but you think of the burning in your lungs, his nails against your skin, the roaring of the water.

You’re glad Nathaniel is dead.

“What do you want from us? Money? Our lives?”

“Nothing.” You realize it’s true, suddenly stricken with wondering why you came back at all. “I want you to go about your lives, and let me do what I will.”

Pushing off the wall, you turn around and head out the front door. You feel their eyes on you as you go, but you don’t look back.

For now, you walk out into the woods. Crickets chirp happily, growing quiet as you walk by and starting once again when you’re a distance from them. Under the shade of the trees, it’s cold. The river isn’t flooded up into the woods anymore, but the ground is soft beneath your feet, mud giving way to your steps.

It feels different when you walk through the woods this time. They aren’t as vibrant. No Tiera is lurking in the boughs of the wisteria. There’s no lake with merfolk peering at you with large, alien eyes. A world that was once so full of life and peace feels unsaturated now. Devoid of color.

A nasty feeling creeps up on you as you walk. You look for the creatures of the wood, hoping to see their bright colors and little lives. A snake slithers away from you, but it’s just that. A snake with normal scales, in a normal bush. A rabbit rushes by, quick as lightning, a blur of fur.

None of the birds have plumes of purple feathers. There’s no trilling song that sounds like dreams spun into notes, no smell of drifting sweetness on the wind. The air is damp and cold, and it smells like fresh earth and water. But there’s nothing about it that seems as vibrant as before.

By the river, the water rushes as fast as your thoughts. You weren’t sure what to expect when you came home, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t your parents thinking you were a demon, but that isn’t the worst part.

The worst part is that only after two weeks, your world has lost its magic. It pales in comparison to Yoongi’s world or even your imagination. You stare at the water you used to think rushed with so much promise, the waxy leaves that used to contain so many shades of green. Now they’re just leaves and the river is just water.

A tingle presses at your neck. You turn, expecting Yoongi to be looming behind you. There’s no one there, but the feeling of awareness doesn’t go away. Frowning, you lean against the tree and stare out into the woods unseeing.

Clove and cinnamon hang in the air. You close your eyes, inhaling. The tingle at the back of your neck feels familiar. In your mind, you feel it like a phantom touch, sliding from your neck across your shoulder, dragging down the length of your arms until there is a soft twitch in your palm.

It’s easy to imagine Yoongi this way. But when you open your eyes, Yoongi isn’t there. The feeling doesn’t go away. But you always have that feeling out here, the something of other. Your heart flutters at the thought of the god lurking somewhere that you can’t see.

A silly thought. You brush it away, trying not to delude yourself into fantasies that Yoongi has any interest in you beyond your deal and beyond that night in the woods where you asked for help. Yoongi’s kindness is just that, and though you dream of him often, you know the difference between your dreams and reality.

Instead of leaving to go back to the house, you sit down on the ground. Closing your eyes, you imagine a brighter world. A more magical world. It’s easier to do this than to contend with the fact that the woods you loved so dearly are not as you remember them.

This, at least, is familiar. Sitting in the woods for hours and imagining worlds away from yours. Now, you imagine a specific world, made up of twilight and mountains in the distance. With a wonderful castle full of rooms saturated with candlelight and books you’re learning how to read.

When your stomach growls, you’re forced to stop your imagination and get up. You feel a bit better, knowing that you can at least remember what Yoongi’s dream realm looks like. Two weeks. You have two weeks until you can go back, and until then, Yoongi expects you to study.

Back at the house, your parents stare in silence when you enter. You hardly look at them, walking to the kitchen as though they are merely ghosts harboring the same space as you. Your movements are methodical as you make yourself lunch. When you reach for the knife to cut cheese, you feel the pointed look of your parents.

Part of you wants to turn around and scream at them to scare them. Another part of you has divorced the idea of them as your parents already. Yet you do nothing, biting a piece of cheese as you finish plating your meal and go to your room. They say nothing.

Sitting on your bed, you eat your meal. The world is quiet for the most part, though the muted sound of nature hums beyond your closed window. You realize there is a desk in your room stacked with books, parchment, and inkwells.

Heart racing, you get up from your bed and cross the room. You wipe your fingers on your shirt as you pick up a note written in Yoongi’s neat scrawl. You chew your lip as you look at the swirls and dips of letters on paper, immediately intimidated at the prospect of making sense of the writing.

You take the note with you to the bed and begin to parse the letters and sentences apart. It takes all of your concentration, going over the sounds each letter makes in your head to build a word. It’s not fast work and it isn’t easy, but after a while, you work out the first sentence.

Do not forget to practice every day.

A smile makes your mouth twitch, both in pride that you managed to work out the sentence and at the thought of Yoongi hunched over his desk writing you a note.

The second sentence is trickier. Afternoon light pours through your window as you spend another fifteen minutes sounding out the letters, quietly muttering them to yourself until you’ve got full words to build the sentence.

I will be watching, so you better practice as often as you can.

You bite your lip. It sounds like a playful threat, quietly muttered in one of Yoongi’s teasing moments. You can almost hear the soft rasp of his voice and picture the smirk that would accompany his words. You shiver before reading the final sentence.

Sleep well, and dream as often as you can.

The desk is a nice touch. You don’t remember seeing it this morning and you wonder how it got there. Remembering Yoongi’s magic is overwhelming. You’re still unsure what the limits of his power are, if there are any at all.

Hunched over the papers, you begin to trace letters again. It feels good to have the quill in your hand. You’re careful not to spill the ink all over the paper like you do when you’re practicing in the library - you have a limited amount of parchment here, compared to Yoongi’s endless amounts in the House of Dreams.

It does beg the question whether he’ll drop you off more magical paper if you run out, though.

By the time your hand is cramping too much to practice more and your head hurts, it’s evening. Your parents are locked away in their room when you come out. You can hear the soft voice of your mother go silent when they hear you enter the kitchen for food before heading out to the porch.

Twilight skies stretch above you. Sitting on the edge of the porch, you watch the world fade from purple to black. The stars begin to dot the sky, the moon making her climb upward. You grin, feeling relieved that maybe not all of your world has lost its magic.

Perhaps it’s just the light of day you’re no longer interested in. The night is far more mysterious and alluring, calling to you as you finish your last bite of dinner. You set your plate down on the porch and hop down, feeling the soft grass beneath your bare feet.

The last time you entered the woods in the dark, you were almost killed. That memory alone makes you pause at the edge of the woods. Your mouth dries a little bit and though the urge to step into the shadow of the night is strong, the memory of Nathaniel’s hands on your hair is stronger.

You turn around quickly and walk back to the house, picking up the plate along the way. It feels shameful to be afraid of the dark woods, a sour taste in your mouth as you lock yourself in your room and crawl onto the bed.

Closing your eyes, you try not to think about Nathaniel. His yelling haunts you, the phantom grip of his fingers pulling your hair, the way your mouth filled with water- a hooting owl disturbs your spiraling thoughts.

You open your eyes, straining your ears, only to find silence. Just as you begin to close your eyes again, you hear the hoot once more. Turning toward the window next to your bed, you sit up and pop the latch, casting open one of the shutters.

Above the house, the moon is a glowing coin in the sky. Everything her light touches is awash in grey. Sticking your head out of the window, you sweep your gaze back and forth, trying to look for the sound of the hooting.

As though it senses your gaze, the owl hoots again. You see it this time. A great horned owl stares at you from its perch on top of a pile of chopped wood. Its eyes are burnished gold, like two burning beacons in the night. It’s a stunning owl, all browns and whites, feathers luminous under the sheen of the moon. It moves its head in a circle, opening and closing its beak.

Then, the owl surprises you. You flinch and sit backward on your haunches as it takes flight, great wings flapping as it flies to your window and lands on the ledge. You gasp in delight. The creature is far bigger up close, its ochre eyes warm and intelligent.

The back of your neck tingles familiarly and you smile.

“Are you supposed to watch over me?” The owl chirps, a much higher-pitched noise than the hoot. “Hmm. I see. Do you have a name?”

The owl bobs its head from side to side in an uncanny movement. Though you’re not sure, you think it means to tell you no. “Well, what if I give you one?” The owl chirps again. “What about… Moony?”

Fluffing its feathers, the owl shifts back and forth and lets out a hiss. You giggle, covering your mouth as the bird settles, looking at you in a way that certainly feels haughty and bothered. “Alright. What about… Dream?” Another hiss and a bob no. “Okay, well you’re making this quite difficult. What about…”

A dozen names run through your mind. You think of the owl as Yoongi’s way to watch over you at night. It makes you feel warm and far less alone than you were before. It’s nice knowing that you have a protector, someone to warn Yoongi if you’re ever in danger. Or to steer you away from your bad thoughts.

“How about Guardian?” you offer. It blinks two large eyes before chirping and bobbing its head in a circle, pleased at the name. You grin and slowly reach your hand forward. “I like it. Guardian, then.”

Gently, the owl leans forward and lets you brush its feathers. They are silky under your touch, each plume delicate and wonderful. You can’t help but smile, stroking the owl's chest until it shuffles back and forth and gives a short hoot.

“Go on,” you urge. “Do whatever you need to do. I’ll leave the window open?”

Guardian hoots in affirmation before shuffling its wings and flying off into the night.

Laying in your back, you stare up through the open window, watching the stars go past. Slowly, you feel sleep pull at your edges, beckoning you to give in. You finally do, drifting asleep under the silver light of the moon and a blanket of stars.

Yoongi sits in front of the fireplace in the library. You blink a few times, a little dazed. You don’t remember how you got here, but you know the smell of this library and you know that shadowy frame better than anything. It suddenly makes you ache to realize how much you miss it already.

As if sensing your presence, Yoongi turns to look at you. He smirks, showing no sign of surprise at seeing you standing behind him. He gestures to the armchair next to him and you grin, quick to join him.

Warmth leaps from the fireplace, the logs popping and crackling under the hungry, orange flames. Yoongi is dressed in a simple linen shirt and pants, his necklaces reflecting the burning light. He watches you sit down and fold your feet onto the chair.

“Am I here? Or am I dreaming?” you ask.

“Are both not possible?”

You think about it. “Well yes, I suppose they are. I’m dreaming but I can come here because I’m dreaming.”

“Clever girl.” Yoongi’s eyes dance as he looks you up and down. “How was your first day back?”

“Strange. I…” You chew on your lip, wrapping your arms around your legs. Suddenly, you feel more at home than you did earlier that day in the place you were raised. You think about the woods out behind your house, the alien way you felt among trees that should be familiar. “It feels as though the world doesn’t hold as much magic anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like here. It is so vibrant and beyond imagining that now that I’ve gone back… nothing compares.”

Yoongi hums. “I promise you that there is so much magic in your world. There is real magic in living that cannot be found among the imaginary.”

You rest your chin on your knees and sigh heavily. “If only I could find it.”

“You will.”

Silence passes between you. It’s comfortable. You watch the dancing fire, the world fading away. Though you are acutely aware that Yoongi is staring at your side profile, you don’t squirm or feel anxiety. You simply feel peace, happy to be here. Happy to be with him.

That makes your stomach flutter. At least you’re not dreaming of him in ways you shouldn’t tonight. As soon as you think about it, you feel your cheeks heat up hotter than the flames from the fireplace.

After a little while Yoongi sighs, drawing your attention back to him. “You should sleep.”

“I thought I was.”

“Sort of. You’re more… dreamwalking right now. You’re not really resting.”

“Do I have to stay here?” The question is small. You don’t meet his eyes when you ask, suddenly filled with shame that you can’t even last a day in the world you’ve known for over twenty years. “There’s nothing for me here.”

“There is. You just have to find it again.”

“I don’t know how.”

Yoongi stands up. You look up at him and see that his expression is soft. Kind. Your heart speeds up, tongue heavy in your mouth as he slowly reaches out to you. His hand hesitates for a second, pauses in mid-air like he’s unsure, and then he touches your cheek lightly. “Trust me.”

Before you can respond, Yoongi is walking away. The skin on your cheek tingles where his fingers were a moment before, a shiver racing up your spine. You lift your hands to touch your cheek where his fingers were moments ago. You can’t help but smile, fondness for him growing. Blooming.

Leaning back in the chair, you close your eyes and settle into real sleep.

Tap tap tap.

You twitch your nose and roll your head to the side, sniffing. For a moment, it felt like something had been tapping your nose, almost waking you from sleep. You start to sink back into it, pulling your covers tighter as your thoughts drift… further…

Tap tap tap.

You frown. Now you’re awake, your thoughts clawing their way to break the surface of sleep. When you finally collect yourself and register that you’re waking up, you open your eyes to reveal a face hovering inches from yours, so close that you cannot make out the features.

A shriek rips through your room as you scramble away from the face, clutching your blanket. You slam into the wall near the window, heart hammering as you press yourself flat, trying to make yourself small.

Taehyung falls backwards on his ass, covering his ears and giving you a ghastly expression, as though horrified to be screamed at in such a manner. Your hand clutches your chest as you realize it’s him sitting on your floor and him who had been inches from your face - tapping your nose.

“What are you doing?” you holler at him, fisting your blankets. You suddenly feel sick, the adrenaline making your stomach turn and your head spin. Groaning, you lay on your side, squeezing your eyes shut. Colors coalesce behind your eyelids as you take deep breaths, hoping it will pass. “Are you insane?”

“Well, that is up for debate.”

You open your eyes and glare at him.

Taehyung sits with his long legs out in front of him, leaning back on his palms. His dark hair hangs in his eyes as he grins at you, giddy. He’s dressed in a flowing white shirt with laces at the front that he’s kept open, revealing a tanned chest. His shirt is tucked into brown trousers and you spot a small chain with a charm tied through one of his belt loops.

You think you recognize the charm from one of Yoongi’s necklaces.

“What are you doing here?”

“Visiting, obviously.”

“You can just… visit?”

“I do what I want.”

As the adrenaline rush fades, you slowly sit up, glaring at the man on your floor. “I doubt that. How did you get in here, anyway?”

“Your window is open.”

The window in question is still wide open from last night, only now, morning light streams through. The air is cool and smells of rain, the wind rushing through the trees and making them bend and dance under its guidance. A robin flits from bough to bough, singing.

“So you came through the window?”

“No, I came through the front door. No one else is home.”

“Then why did you say you came through the window?”

“I didn’t. I said the window was open.” Taehyung gives you a white, square grin. You clench your teeth and resist the urge to throw a pillow at him. Though you’re pleased to see him, you’re equally as vexed by his teasing. “Anyway, I want you to show me around.”

“Show you around what?”

He gets up from the floor, clapping his hands together to get rid of the dirt and dust before doing the same to his pants. He shrugs, giving you a cheery smile. “I don’t know. Anything. Everything. I want to see what your life here was like.”

“It wasn’t very good.”

“That’s okay. I want to see it anyway.”

Slowly, you get out of bed. He makes room for you, walking over toward the desk where your writing practice sheets are. He flips through them, examining your work as you eye him, stretching. Your joints pop and you groan, eyes fluttering at the release of tension.

“Why?” you ask. He looks up at you, brows raised in a question. “Why do you want to see?”

Taehyung contemplates his answer. He taps one long finger on top of your tracing. “You’re getting better.” He leans against the desk and crosses his arms, regarding you steadily. “I’ll make you a deal. Show me about your life here. Teach me about you. And I’ll tell you about me.”

That sparks your interest. You know so little about Taehyung, even in the two weeks that you’ve lived in the House of Dreams. He is a charming mystery, someone who speaks in riddles and likes to goad you and talk about so much that you realize he talks about nothing at all. At least, not anything substantial.

For the amount of things you know about Taehyung, like how he enjoys cinnamon in his tea or that his favorite color is green like the bottom of the lake, or how his favorite snacks are honey cakes or that music makes him cry, you also know… nothing about him. Where he comes from. Who he was before he was Yoongi’s companion in a big, lonely castle.

Sighing, you walk up to him and extend your arm. “Deal.”

Taehyung’s hand is warm and tingles when you shake it. He grins at you, happier than ever before he drops your hand and gestures at your clothes. “Well go on,” he says. “Change out of your nighties. Unless of course, you’d like to stay in them.”

“Get out of my room and I will!”

He raises his brows. “Don’t want me to watch? How boring.”

You don’t take his teasing to heart. You’ve already adapted to Taehyung’s jesting and prodding, learning that it’s a key part to the way that he shows his affections. For the first few days, you’d thought perhaps he didn’t like you much, but after seeing him rib Yoongi for two hours straight in the library, you realized it was good that he was teasing you.

You open the small trunk of clothes and slide on pants and a loose shirt. When you enter the main house, you find Taehyung standing on the porch with his arms crossed over his chest, looking into the woods with a frown. Tucking in your shirt, you step out onto the porch, the wood creaking underneath your weight.

“What is it?” you ask when Taehyung doesn’t turn to greet you. His eyes are dark and there’s an expression on his face that makes you nervous. “Is there something out there?”

Instead of answering directly, he asks, “Is that where Yoongi found you?”

Oh. Oh. Taehyung is looking at the woods where you ran off the night that your parents tried to make you marry Nathaniel. You nod and hum, trying not to think much about it as you finish tucking in the shirt and adjusting the material.

“There’s a bad energy there,” Taehyung observes. He turns away from the woods finally and drops his hands at his side. “You should stay away from that place moving forward.”

“I didn’t exactly go in there on purpose.”

“I know.” Something flashes in his eyes. “Best not to do it again, if you can help it. You can go into the woods, just not there.”

“Okay…”

You wait for Taehyung to elaborate, but he doesn’t. A chill settles over your skin, the wind picking up to rustle the trees. He shrugs and grins, the dark expression gone in a flash as he gestures for you to enter back through the house and leave by way of the front door.

Taheyung follows you, a bounce to his step as he hurries to walk next to you. You say nothing as you lead him out of the yard and toward the main road by your home that leads into town, your stomach fluttering with nervousness as you go.

If Taehyung is confused as to why you’re not starting the story of your life at home, he doesn’t let on. He tucks his hands into his pockets and walks next to you, his feet crunching the gravel beneath his boots and the wind lifting his hair.

Studying Taehyung’s side profile, you think he looks like something from a dream. He has the kind of beauty that seems purposeful and handcrafted, each one of his features carefully designed to be the wonderful, glowing being that he is.

You don’t know what he is, really. But you’ve made a deal and you have to deliver on your end first.

“We live a bit away from town,” you say eventually. “My father inherited the house after his father, who was a very talented wood carver. He used to cut the trees here himself and decide which tree was perfect for what project, which is why we live almost thirty minutes from town.”

“A wood carver is a nice talent to have.”

You nod. “He was very good. It made a good income. My father had no talent for it, though, and opened up a store instead. He sold my grandfather’s wares and then eventually added items from other folks in town, including my mother's clothes. She’s a seamstress.”

“You were wearing a dress the night Yoongi brought you home.”

Home. Taehyung says it so easily, like he’s already accepted that the House of Dreams is yours as much as it’s his. A warm feeling blooms through you, and you look up at Taehyung and smile at him despite the looming subject of the doomed wedding dress. He returns your smile just as broadly, even if he doesn’t know the reason for your sudden turn of happiness.

“Yeah. That was one she made,” you sigh, turning back to the road. “A wedding dress.”

“It was beautiful, but I did burn it in the fire.” You look at him with your brows raised and he gives you a sheepish shrug. “You were assaulted in that dress. We wanted nothing to do with it.”

“I’m glad that you did. I never want to remember that night again.”

“Good. Memories have a way of haunting us, even when we don’t know it.”

Taehyung’s tone is ominous. Instead of asking him what he means, you let his weighted silence fall around you, propelling the both of you toward the town.

As you get closer, houses and other roads begin to pop up. You see the pathways leading up to the homes of your neighbors, pointing out each one to Taehyung along with filling him in on summaries of their family histories and gossip. He listens with a conspiratorial smirk, gasping and asking you scandalous questions as you whisper rumors you’ve long heard from eavesdropping on your parents.

Gossiping with Taehyung is nice. You feel lighter than you had the day before, nearly skipping as you near the town proper. You start passing people on the road. Normally, you’d greet the ones you know. Now, you hear gasps as people flinch when they see you, making signs with their hands to ward off evil.

You blink in surprise, glancing at Taehyung for his reaction. He frowns when he sees the second group of people do it. By the third, he pulls a snarling face at them, making a child cry. You jam your finger in his ribs and he hisses in pain, shoving lightly back.

“What?” he demands. “You’re not evil. That sign doesn’t do anything, either. If one of the more malevolent deities wanted to snatch them, they would.”

“Really?”

Taehyung rubs his ribs where you poked him. You pass the bakery owned by the Yen family, heavenly smells wafting out the door. “Of course they would,” he huffs. “Most deities aren’t bound by the rules and logic the mortals try to make to create a sense of safety from them. Many can simply do what they want.”

“Then why don’t they?”

“Because of Eternals, like Yoongi. The gods who are always here, never changing. That’s why they’re called Eternals.”

“I see. There’s seven of them, right?” Taehyung hums the affirmative. As you pass a music shop, Taehyung slows. His hands are linked behind his back as he eyes the instruments through the window and gestures at them. You nod and follow him indoors, the bell on the door above chiming. “So other deities are afraid of them?”

“Of course they are,” Taehyung muses. He stops to admire a mandolin. “Yoongi, for example, is a being that creates dreams themselves. He manipulates reality. He can create things on a whim. He’s almost as powerful as life.”

“Really?”

“What are dreams if not creation? The difference isn’t all that big, though it drives Seokjin mad to admit it.”

“Who?”

Taehyung plucks the string of another instrument. You don’t know what it is, but the note is sharp, making you cringe. “Life, of course.”

“You know Life? What are you?”

He glances at you sidelong. “We’re supposed to learn about you first. I’m doing a lot of talking.”

“Not like it’s hard to get you going,” you mutter.

Taeyung shoots you a scowl, but is interrupted by the shop owner coming around the corner. He’s a man in his late thirties, greeting Taehyung politely and wiping his hands on his trousers. He asks Taehyung if he’s looking for anything and just as Taehyung leans out of the way to reveal you standing behind him, the shop owner’s eyes go to you and he gasps, stumbling backward.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” he whispers, his back bumping into a shelf of items. You feel a shiver slip down your spine as you stare at him, arms tingling. He makes the symbol to ward off evil, the whites of his eyes wild. “Evil. Evil creature, you are a demon. You do not-”

“Another word,” Taehyung cuts in, his voice dark in a tone you’ve never heard. “And I’ll show you what evil is, sir.”

“G-god of Light spare me.”

“Your God of Light won’t answer.” Taehyung spins on his heel, facing you. His expression is thunder, his gaze dark and eyes wild as he hisses, “Speak their name all you wish. It's not daytime in here, sir.”

For the two weeks you’ve known Taehyung, you’ve never seen him like this. The room feels oppressive and dark, and you swear the lights have dimmed, shadows pressing up against the wall as Taehyung strides forward and passes you, taking your arm firmly in his hand.

Taehyung escorts you out of the store, walking swiftly. When you hit daylight, the oppressive dark sheds itself immediately. Taehyung’s presence dims with the sun beating down on him and turning his skin copper, black hair shining almost blue in the light.

He lets go of your arm and shoots you a troubled gaze. “Don’t listen to him,” he grunts. “You’re not a demon, nor are you evil.”

“My parents called me the same thing.” He scowls and begins pacing. To keep him moving, you start walking toward the other side of town where the old cemetery and abandoned church is. You don’t know why you go there, but you’re drawn to it. “They called me a demon.”

“Demons are much nastier. You might be annoying, but certainly not a demon.”

You scowl and he shrugs. “I didn’t realize everyone here thought I died. I thought I would come back and it would be…”

“Normal?” You shrug a shoulder.

The houses on the edge of town are shabbier than the rest. People hesitate in their doorways, staring at you and the tall, handsome man next to you. You see them do the warding sign as you go, and you squeeze your hands into fists as they do.

Weeds crawl up the side of the old church. The structure leans heavily to the left, the stairs unusable and the ceiling fallen in. Instead of walking up the hazardous steps and inside the dilapidated building, you lead Taehyung around it, where the grass grows higher than your knees and the sound of grasshoppers buzzing by you follows.

A dry-rotted fence surrounds what was once a graveyard. You walk toward it, leading Taehyung until he starts slowing down a few paces behind you. You stop and turn over your shoulder to look at him, bringing your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun.

Taehyung looks thoughtful, dark eyes scanning the area. He’s stopped walking entirely, head cocked to the side. “Why’d you bring me here?”

“I don’t know. I just… walked in this direction. I used to come here for the silence, sometimes.”

Taehyung has a strange look on his face. “Is that so?”

“Why do you look like that?”

“How long has this place been here?”

“The church closed before I could remember. Honestly, they said it was haunted by this graveyard, which has been here a lot longer than the church. Even the oldest families in town don’t have their dead buried here. Rumor has it that it was built long before the town was.”

Taehyung starts walking normally again. Side by side, you begin to navigate around the graveyard. “And you come here? Why?”

“It’s quiet. When I was too young to stay at the house alone, my mom would bring me to town while she ran errands. I was allowed to explore, but I liked to come here.”

“Most kids are afraid of places of the dead.”

You shrug. “It was quiet, and it gave me time to imagine things. I liked to make up fantasies about the old gods here or… what I imagined they might be. Of heroes descended from them, maybe.”

“And you felt drawn here?”

You startle when a grasshopper shoots across the grass in front of you. You laugh as it vanishes into the foliage. “Yeah, it just felt… safe.”

“Strange.”

“Am I allowed to ask why or are you going to complain you’re talking too much again?” He snorts and gestures for you to continue. “Why is that strange? Beyond the fact that it’s, you know, a graveyard.”

Sighing, Taehyung squints up at the line of trees nearby. His hand hovers along the tops of the grass as he runs it over each blade, letting the tips tickle his hands. You’re almost waist high in grass, glancing down to make sure you don’t step into any holes.

“This place is old. The people of the church felt haunted because they were. Death owns this land.”

You frown. “Well, the dead are here. The other graveyard doesn’t feel the same.”

“You misunderstand me. Death - the Eternal. His presence is all over. Someone important to him must be buried here.”

“Oh.”

You stop and think about that. Turning to look at the unmarked and lime washed tombstones, you scan for any sign of Death. You have no idea what you’re looking for. Ivy and time have taken over most of the concrete slabs, and none of the names or dates are legible by now. They’re just hewn stone, buried in green and grime.

But you feel something here, a tingling on the back of your neck like the one you felt in the woods by your house. A chill wind blows over the land, sweeping the grass and rattling the trees. You feel the breeze against your neck, cool as fingers trailing down your spine.

Suddenly, you feel a buzz on your skin. It’s not so different from Yoongi’s presence, and it chills you.

You look up at Taehyung with wide, fearful eyes. He smiles and shakes his head. “You don’t need to be afraid of Death. Death is neither good nor bad, he just is. He only takes those who are ready.”

“Have you met - um - Death?”

Taehyung nods. “He is a man of few words, but Namjoon is unwaveringly kind and wise.”

“Strange that I was drawn to coming here.” You head back toward the town. The sun passes its zenith and makes its way into the early afternoon. “Is this whole place filled with Eternals or what?”

“No, it’s actually a rather unremarkable location. Namjoon lingers in many places. Yoongi was simply drawn here.”

“By what?”

Instead of answering the question, Taehyung sticks his hands in his pockets. “Show me more of your town.”

So you do. Taehyung is a good companion. Where Yoongi would quietly observe and make sounds to indicate that he’s listening and admires the things you’re talking about, Taehyung asks questions. You realize he’s a tactile person as well. He touches things as he walks by them, brushing his fingers on fabric, touching jewelry at vendor stands.

Everywhere you go is a similar reaction to the instrument store. People seem happy to see Taehyung at first before they see you, fear making them lean away and ward you off. You realize you don’t know how much time has passed since you vanished from the woods and returned.

When you ask Taehyung, he shrugs and explains that time moves differently and inconsistently. It could have been a day, it could have been a week, it could have been five months. By the looks on the faces of those you pass, you think perhaps it’s been a little longer than you anticipated.

Part of you wonders what lie your parents must have told them about your death. You almost want to ask, but you don’t, anxiety stilling your tongue. You probably wouldn’t be able to get close enough to anyone to ask anyway.

By the time the sun has sunk beyond the horizon and the moon has begun its climb, you and Taehyung stop at the tavern to eat. Your stomach rumbles as you step into the warmth of the room behind Taehyung, and you notice that the place goes quiet.

It’s subtle at first, something you don’t notice as you kick dirt off your shoes, but the hush becomes so intense that you can’t help but look up, gaze sweeping the room as everyone turns to stare at you.

Behind the counter, the barkeep straightens. His name is Sloan - you’ve known him since you were a little girl - and he looks less than happy at your arrival.

“I know I’m pretty,” Taehyung announces loudly, tossing the hair out his eyes. “But you don’t need to stare.”

“You aren’t welcome here,” Sloan says, voice wavering like he’s unsure if he means it. “Begone, demon. We are men and women of life and light!”

You swallow thickly and look around, feeling prickly heat crawl up your neck.

Like at the music shop, something happens to Taehyung, except this time, it’s stronger than before. The candles in the chandelier and on the tables flicker in a phantom wind and darkness pulses in the room. You feel energy rolling off of him and you swear Taehyung gets darker as he steps forward, his presence oppressive and threatening.

There is crying and gasping in the room as he seethes. “We are not demons, and you will not disallow this woman to enter your shops, your homes, or anywhere else she wishes.”

“Taehyung,” you whisper, throat dry.

He doesn’t seem to hear you. You swear there is thunder in the distance. Whatever power belonging to Taehyung is tenfold now that the night sky stretches over the tavern. “Refuse her service, and there will be consequences.”

“Taehyung,” you hiss, snatching his sleeve. You pull his attention to you. His eyes are like two obsidian coins. There is something sharp and lupine about his face, sending your heart hammering. “Stop. This is making it worse.”

“They should not insult you.”

“It’s fine.”

He softens a touch. “It isn’t. You are not… they do not understand you.”

“They never have. Come on, let’s just go.”

For a second, you think he might not. You don’t know what Taehyung is or what he can do. It doesn’t frighten you, though. Because whatever Taehyung is and whatever his intentions are, he’s linked to Yoongi. Yoongi would never put you in harm's way or let Taehyung near you if he was a threat.

Even after such a short period of time, you know this in your heart of hearts.

Taehyung relents and the light returns to the room. No one makes a sound, all eyes on Taehyung as he lets you pull him out of the door and into the night. You immediately feel better outside, the moon washing your skin in light and the stars watching you march into the street.

“You can’t just threaten everyone who insults me,” you snap, though you’re not really mad at him. “They’re only going to hate me more. And they will think you’re a demon when you do that.”

“I’m far more powerful than a demon,” he sniffs primly. “And they should not insult you. You have the favor of Dream. You are -” he cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Well, you’re far above their station. They know nothing.”

“Far above their station,” you snort, crushing a rock under the toe of your boot. “I’m a girl who was strange when they knew me before they thought I was dead, and now they think I’m a demon walking around with her scary demon husband. Or perhaps they think you are an evil entity.”

“Don’t make that joke around Yoongi,” Taehyung mutters, putting his hands on his hips. Before you can ask what that means, he says, “What if I took you somewhere instead, then?”

You raise your brows and look around. “Where?”

“Well not here. Somewhere familiar to me, where they won’t ostracize you.”

“We’re going to travel in the middle of the night.”

Taehyung gives you a square grin that lights up the world. “Time to learn about how we travel.”

You almost vomit on Taehyung’s shoes. He squeals and steps out of the way as you bend over, holding your middle as bile burns its way up your throat and splatters onto the gravel beneath you. It feels like your world is spinning and you’ve lost your center of gravity, having been pulled by something sharp in your stomach into a vortex of what felt like twisting and spinning.

It could only have lasted a second, but Taehyung has to hold you up for a moment as you gasp for air, the taste in your mouth sour and gross. You crane your face to look at him, glaring as he winces. He had given you no warning of what his travel was like or how it would feel.

You’re not looking forward to it again.

“What,” you pant, “was that?”

“Teleportation, mostly. I kind of forgot what it feels like when you’re… human. You get a little scrambled.”

The nausea makes your throat clench and unclench again. You dig your fingers into his arm as you dry heave but nothing comes up. “A little?” you rasp. The world slows its spinning and the watering feeling in your mouth that preludes puking fades. “That was awful.”

“Sorry, it’s different than portaling. That’s more stepping through the door while teleportation is like... Jumping.”

“Don’t jump me again any time soon.”

Taehyung pats your back heartily as you stand up straight. The stars swim above you in a spiraling cosmos. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, waiting as the nausea fades away and the world around you bleeds into the forefront of your attention span.

Noise hums from in front of you. You’re standing in an alleyway, looking up at the side of a building. It looks a bit like an inn, but you can hear the clamor of a crowd and loud voices coming from inside. Each window is curtained, keeping wandering eyes and the moonlight outside.

Taehyung leads you around to the front of the building. It’s two stories and on the first floor there’s a porch filled with chairs and gambling tables. There are men and women draped over the furniture, smoking sweet-smelling cigars and laughing loudly as they throw dice on the table.

Women and men in various states of undress sit on the laps of the others. You feel heat crawl up your neck as you avert your eyes, looking up at the sign hanging over the building that says Desert Rose. Nervousness tingles at the back of your neck as Taehyung strolls up the steps to what you’re sure is a brothel and a gambling den, greeting people as he goes.

You’re shocked that Taehyung knows people here. You’re sure that you’re still in… your dimension, as Yoongi calls it. The people here talk with an accent that is different from what you’re used to, but you still understand the language, even while struggling to keep up with the lilt.

Eyes follow you as Taehyung leads you inside. The air is thick with perfume, smoke, and loud voices. Tables are pressed closely together, filled with people. There’s a bar at the back of the room and a small bard and band in a corner, singing a raucous song with the crowd about Lady Trown who gets around and will go down.

“Where did you bring me?” you ask Taehyung as he guides you through the rowdy room. A woman falls over a card game laughing, her breasts spilling out of her shirt while another woman plants a kiss right on her mouth. “This place is - is -”

There are no words for it. You’ve never been somewhere that is so openly indecent and carnal in your life and yet… the colors and the sounds and the overflowing joy hit you like an arrow to the chest. You can’t help but be drawn to look at the exposed bodies before darting your gaze away, only to be drawn somewhere else out of insatiable curiosity.

“A haven!” Taehyung offers as he leans on the bar. “Two pints of whatever!”

You press close against him, hands shooting to his shirt as someone pushes by you. It’s a little overwhelming and you feel hot all over. Taehyung shoves a wooden tankard of amber liquid into your hands and grins, raising another to his lips before taking several swigs, liquid running down his chin and neck.

He comes away and smacks his lips, giving you a delighted grin. “It’s awful, just the way I like it!”

You take a sip and make a face. The watered-down ale is certainly nothing like the sweet wine Yoongi likes to treat you to over dinner. Taehyung seems to know this, laughing loudly as he leads you through the crowd toward an empty table in the corner.

Back against the wall, you take a moment to look around the room. There are card and dice games being held at multiple tables, alongside other games with rune-marked stones, cups and trinkets that you don’t recognize.

It’s wildly different from anything back home. You’ve never been to a brothel - at least, you think this place qualifies for one, based on the various states of undress and a few couples doing something that makes you avert your eyes - but this is nice. In its own loud and carnal way.

Taehyung people-watches with you. He feeds you information on the faces that he recognizes, lips curling as he gossips. He looks alive and happy, his golden skin glowing with a radiance that seems a little magical.

“So is it my turn to ask questions?” you ask, sipping the awful beer as you look over at Taehyung. His gaze reluctantly strays away from watching a card game where you’re pretty sure the woman who is winning is cheating. “Or do I still have to talk about myself?”

He smirks. “You can ask questions, a deal is a deal.”

“What is this place?”

“The Desert Rose.”

You glare. “What is this place to you?”

Taehyung takes a sip of his ale and grins, winking at you. “A better question. This place is somewhere I used to visit when I wanted to feel alive. When I wanted to feel humanity for its raw intensity.”

“So you’re not human.” He shakes his head. His face grows a little hesitant, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. “What are you?”

“I’m a dream.”

You blink once. Twice. You expect Taehyung to start laughing and indicate that he was teasing you, but he doesn’t. He leans back in his chair, watching you evenly with his dark eyes.

“What?” you finally ask.

“I’m a dream. The second ever, actually.”

You think about what you’ve observed of Taehyung. The way that he seems to draw people in, the animated manner in which he speaks. He seems to contain so many multitudes of the things you know that Yoongi enjoys, and yet so many things that press Yoongi’s buttons and rattle him.

Taehyung is… beautiful. Enchanting. Both to look at, and to talk to. He has a carefree personality and you know he’s magical, having witnessed it in the House of Dreams in snippets but also today, when he became angry and the darkness seemed to swell around him. Not to mention his awful teleportation to wherever you are in the world now.

He is exactly the kind of person you always imagined being the lead in your fantasies. Brave and charming, handsome and adventurous. He looks like he belongs here, melding to the energy around him, fitting in perfectly.

Suddenly, the thought of Taehyung being a dream makes more sense than anything else. A being of infinite possibilities, one who can shape themselves to anyone and anything, who can sense what people want and become that very thing.

You’re not sure what the complexities of dreams are, but you understand the very basics from Yoongi: most dreams are flexible and full of infinite possibilities. It’s what makes them so real, so strong.

“That makes a lot of sense,” you murmur. “So you’re old.”

“Very.”

“If you’re the second dream…” you trail off, thinking about how Yoongi explained how he came to existence. How life dreamed and so he was born. “Yoongi is the first. That’s why you say he is Dream - he is the first and the essence of dreams.”

“Very clever.”

“When you said you came here to feel alive, what did you mean by that?”

He sighs heavily. “Yoongi was born because Life dreamed of - well, making life. And when Yoongi was born, he was the very concept of dreaming itself. Imagination, creation, wonder, hope. It’s why creation and dreaming are so close in their nature. But still, there is a difference between lifeforms and dreams.”

“You wanted to know what it was like to feel life?”

He nods. “Yoongi made me as his first companion. He couldn’t help it, really. He didn’t make me on purpose so much as he thought of someone to spend time with, someone to offset him. To balance him. And then there I was.”

You chew on your lip. There is a distant look in Taehyung’s gaze. He stares at his ale, not drinking anymore. He picks at splinters in the tankard handle, the noise around the two of you a dull roar.

“But?” you offer, sensing his hesitance.

“But,” he agrees, nodding. “When Life created humans, I wondered what the difference was between us. I sort of looked like them and I talked like them, but I wanted to know what it was like to be them. And dreams… They are wonderful. Beautiful. But I was afraid they weren’t real, so I started to visit here. To go places. To see if life was the same as dreams.”

“Is it?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not better, it’s not worse. It’s just different. But I did learn that dreams are as real as life. Perhaps you cannot always see them and feel them depending on where you are, but anything someone dreams here is real there.”

“That’s sort of comforting.”

Taehyung smiles. “It is. Plus, I really enjoy people. They have an edge to them that dreams don’t.”

Someone catches Taehyung’s attention. He turns in his seat, head craning as though he senses something. You follow his line of sight to where a young man descends the stairs leading up to the second floor. He is unlike anything you’ve ever seen, with dark, silky hair tucked behind his ears, full lips that pull into a smile as someone greets him, and sharp, dark eyes that crinkle when he laughs.

He’s beautiful. Suddenly you think that this might be what a dream truly looks like. Taehyung is all dark and shadows, but the man Taehyung watches is lightness and magic, his face so perfect that you cannot help but imagine it must be the result of someone carefully painting every feature.

Your eyes flicker back to Taehyung when the man leans on the bar, talking to the barmaid behind the counter. Taehyung doesn’t move. You don’t even think he’s breathing. He sits in his chair, knuckles paling under the grip he has on the back of his seat, his eyes filled with such sudden longing that you have to look away.

“Who is that?” you ask gently. Taehyung doesn’t seem to hear you. He watches and watches, wanting to look nowhere else but at the bar. ��Taehyung?”

“His name is Jimin.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

Taehyung nods. “He’s like you.”

“Like me?”

“He dreams loud enough for us to hear it. For me to hear it. I’ve been coming to this place long before he existed. A silly coincidence that he exists here, too.”

“Fate, perhaps?”

That makes Taehyung turn around. His expression is dark and he’s frowning. “Don’t start talking about Hoseok,” Taehyung mutters. “Lest he show up.”

You didn’t mean Yoongi’s sibling Fate, but you realize that’s who Taehyung is talking about. Your eyes drift back to where Jimin is at the bar, sipping a glass of amber liquid. As though he senses eyes on him, his gaze sweeps the bar until it lands on Taehyung, who straightens immediately.

Jimin smiles and it’s like watching the first ray of sun break over the horizon. You can’t help but blink at his radiant beauty, completely taken aback by it as Jimin pushes off of the bar and begins heading your direction.

Taehyung swivels in his chair, taking in a few calming breaths. You giggle and he looks up at you, giving you a pitiful smile. You reach across the table and squeeze his hand quickly. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous!”

“You definitely are.”

Before Taehyung can hiss a rebuttal at you, Jimin sidesteps a woman and grins at Taehyung. He drags his gaze to you and startles, as though he had not realized you were there, eyes going round and mouth forming an ‘o’.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were with anyone,” Jimin says. His voice is soft and smooth, immediately comforting. “I wanted to come say hello.”

“Hi,” Taehyung breathes, blinking up at Jimin as though he is lost in starlight. Perhaps he is, you think. “Your hair is longer than the last time I saw you.”

Jimin flushes, a hand coming up to touch the ends of his hair gently. “Yeah, I thought I would grow it out.”

“It looks great.”

For a moment, they stare at one another, Taehyung grinning with his eyes gleaming, and Jimin soft with his eyes scrunched. You look at the table, trying not to disrupt whatever spell they’re under as they peer at one another, but it seems Jimin senses your presence still. His eyes flicker to you and he raises a brow, questioning.

Taehyung fumbles to introduce you, turning and giving you a sheepish grin. You smile and stretch your hand over to shake Jimin’s. His hands are small and delicate but his grip is firm. “It’s nice to meet you. Taehyung wanted to show me this place because he enjoys the people so much - I believe that includes you.”

Jimin smirks and shrugs a shoulder while Taehyung looks for a chair, yanking it away from someone to give Jimin a place to sit. He does, throwing Taehyung a grateful smile. “Hmm, is that so? Has he said nice things about me?”

“The nicest. In fact, the whole reason we came here is because he wanted to introduce me to the amazing Jimin.”

Taehyung shoots you a look that tells you to shut up, but you hide your grin in your tankard as Jimin raises a brow, glancing at Taehyung.

Watching Taehyung and Jimin is comedic and sweet. Taehyung isn’t an entirely different person around Jimin, but he becomes softer at the edges, his smiles gentler and his laughs louder. The longing in Taehyung’s gaze when he thinks Jimin isn’t looking is palpable, and even as a bystander and a friend, you feel a pang watching the two of them dance around one another.

For his part, Jimin seems equally enthralled. He watches Taehyung with rapt attention, asking questions and touching Taehyung gently everywhere he can - the tops of Taehyung’s hands, his arm, his elbow. When Taehyung turns around to watch the table next to you topple over, you realize he’s unaware that Jimin is looking at him as though begging for Taehyung to see.

You see. And you want.

Never before had your parents inspired much desire for love in you. While they worked well together, you still can’t call what they had happy or loving. Functional, sure. Successful, even. But they did not look at one another the way Taehyung and Jimin seem to, and you can’t help but suddenly feel like that is something you want.

Someone to look at you when they think you’re not looking in a way that implies you are their sun and moon. Someone who smiles with such mirth at something you do or say that you can feel the heat of it.

Jimin gets up to refill the drinks, scooping yours with a grin before vanishing in the crowd. Taehyung watches him go, craning his neck to ensure he has eyes on Jimin as he makes his way to the bar.

“Have you told him you’re in love with him?”

Taehyung shakes his head, eyes never leaving where Jimin is leaning over the bar to order. “There’s no point.”

“What? Why not?”

“I’m a dream. He’s a human. We could never be something.”

“Oh. Surely there’s a way?”

Taehyung turns to look at you, the joy on his face slipping to be replaced with a soft sadness. He shakes his head again, picking at the splinters on the table. “I would be no good for him. We live in two different worlds… I come and go… He deserves a normal, human life. We could never be something.”

Jimin starts to head back toward the table. Taehyung shakes off the melancholy and smiles just as bright when Jimin returns, as though he wasn’t sad only a moment ago. You accept the refilled drink from Jimin with a weak smile.

Taehyung’s words cycle through your mind as the two men fall into giggling conversation, and all you can think about is a pair of dark cat eyes, a soft raspy voice, and a man who is made of dreams.

We could never be something.

“I was starting to worry, you know?”

Yoongi’s voice makes you blink. You realize you’re standing among the wisteria, the breeze carrying their sweet scent over your warm skin. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. He’s leaning against a tree, his long hair down and dancing in the breeze. The thin white shirt he wears does little to hide the lines of his stomach and chest today, making you avert your eyes.

“Why?” you ask, voice steadier than you feel.

You walk toward a low-hanging vine, bringing your hands up to brush along the purple petals. You feel the tree shiver under your touch. You sense it, like it purrs, a response that is hard to explain but you innately know.

“It took you longer than usual to fall asleep.”

“Can you not see me when I’m not asleep?”

“I could, but prying is rude. I only see you when you come to me.”

You turn to look at him sharply. He seems a little smug at that, the corners of his full lips twitching like he’s fighting a smirk. Your heart skips a beat for a moment before Taehyung’s words from that night play in your mind. We could never be something.

And yet Yoongi is implying it’s you who visits him.

You scowl and turn away from him suddenly. Yoongi makes a sound like a sigh and pushes off of the tree, his footsteps quiet as a whisper. “Have I upset you?”

“I want to go to sleep.”

He hesitates. You cannot see his expression, but you can picture it perfectly: brows drawn together, mouth pouted slightly, head cocked. His confusion is evident when he says, “You are asleep.”

“You know what I mean.”

Silence, for a moment. Then, in that soft, rasping voice that you know so well, he murmurs, “Goodnight, then.”

Silence greets you when you wake up the next morning. Your home is still empty - you have not seen either of your parents since you arrived the night before. Either you’re coming and going at hours they’re not around or they’re avoiding you. The latter is most likely, and you certainly don’t mind.

Your day goes similarly to the day before. This time, when you walk through the woods, you feel a little more of a spark. You’re sure it has to do with your conversation with Taehyung, his words about dreams and reality being different but equally powerful pouring a little bit of magic back into the woods you loved so dearly.

Still, you miss the other realm and the House of Dreams, even if you’re a little embarrassed by your dream last night, recalling the way you dismissed Yoongi.

Sitting on the ground with your back pressed against a cypress tree, you let out a heavy sigh and close your eyes, your arms hugging around your middle. You try not to think too hard about the way Yoongi looked leaning against the tree, dark eyes drinking you in.

Yoongi occupies more than his fair share of thoughts. You hate it, the way your mind strays to him, thinking this is something Yoongi would like or Yoongi would find this funny. Only two weeks and he and Taehyung are suddenly all you know, your experiences with them painting most of your thoughts.

Thoughts of Taehyung don’t plague you, though.

The fluttering feeling every time you think of Yoongi has not faded with time or distance. It might be easier if he didn’t visit your dreams every night - or if you didn’t visit him in your dreams, which you don’t know how to do.

But Taehyung’s forlorn words come drifting back to you, reminding you that there is some distinction between humans and dreams. That even for Taehyung, it cannot work.

When you return home, your parents still aren’t there. You busy yourself with lunch and then begin practicing your letters, tracing them until your hand is cramping and your head is starting to hurt. You manage to take up most of the afternoon that way, focused solely on your studies and trying to read through your work.

Just as evening falls, Taehyung appears in the yard, hands on his hips as he looks up at your window, whistling to catch your attention. You grin when you see him, happy to have a friend, even if it’s just Taehyung. You don’t ask why Yoongi doesn’t come with him - the Eternal is busy, you’re sure - but you’re pleased to just have Taehyung.

It becomes a routine. It’s not as thrilling as your life in the House of Dreams, but it isn’t as terrible as you thought it would be. The few times that you do see your parents, they glare at you as though you have become something evil in their house, lurking and stealing their joy.

You say nothing to them and they stay away from you.

It’s the same in town. You only visit with Taehyung, otherwise you are too afraid to go on your own. The villagers say nothing when they see the two of you walking around and visiting the old church, but they glare and you catch them doing the signs to ward off evil as you pass by.

Still, Taehyung makes it worth it. He visits you nightly, whisking you away to the Desert Rose, which has become a refuge for you. You’re no better at teleporting, but you manage not to vomit on his shoes each time you do it.

Tonight, the energy is thrumming at the Desert Rose. Your gaze lingers longer on those around you and you even introduce yourself to the people that Taehyung is familiar with. Though Taehyung opts to play a game of dice, you do not. You’re content to watch, standing over his shoulder with your arms crossed over your chest.

You feel… alive. Just like Taehyung described when he started coming here. It’s so different from your life before, and after over a week of being around people who seem to spill over with joy without restraint, you feel yourself loosening up. Becoming something a little different. Someone who wants. Someone who wants openly.

You think about Yoongi. Once he’d told you that he wasn’t just Eternal of dreams. He also has power over desire, and he believes in indulgence. He wants to teach you to indulge more. It suddenly makes all the more sense that Taehyung likes it here. He’s someone who dives in head first to things, taking any bet someone throws his way and snatching drinks off of passing trays.

Even his desire for Jimin is open and obvious, though you’re sure Taehyung doesn’t know that.

It’s a lovely night. You feel warm all over, the drink getting to you as you guzzle down the remainder of your cider, which you favor far more than the ale. Jimin clambors onto the table, a cup in hand as he starts yelling the words to the song the band is playing in the corner.

Taehyung begins to slam his wooden cup on the table in time with the beat, yelling the words and standing up as the room joins in, stamping their feet and slamming on tables. You don’t know the words but you laugh loudly, slamming your palms against the top of the table. They sting with the force of your slap, but it feels good.

You feel good. Happy. Drunk. A little dizzy as the table wobbles and you dive out of the way as Jimin comes tumbling down. It doesn’t stop you from taking a shower of beer from Jimin’s cup, dousing you in warm liquid as you shriek and laugh.

Taehyung catches Jimin, of course. They’re a tangled mess of limbs and wet with beer all the same, pointing at you and laughing as you blink through the drink dripping down your face. You flick beer at them with the liquid on your hands, making them howl.

“Gross! Jimin!”

“I’m so sorry,” he gasps through the laughter, his arms slung tight around Taehyung’s neck as Jimin leans into him. “I slipped!”

“You owe me a new shirt!”

Jimin nods, grinning so broadly his eyes are crescents as he stands properly and beckons you. “Come on, both of you. I’ll get you new shirts that aren’t soaked.

Upstairs is a series of private rooms. The hall is lit with flickering sconces and the plush carpet mutes your footsteps. Jimin leads you and Taehyung, giggling, to a door. He thrusts it open and the three of you tip inside, stopping short at the scene in front of you.

Your hands fly to your mouth to mute your gasp, but Taehyung and Jimin collapse into another fit of laughter. If the two people in the bed are bothered by the interruption, they don’t show it. They are a tableau of pleasure, a woman laying back on the bed, arching upward as she lets out a moan. Her skin is slick with sweat, nipples hard as she teases them with one hand, another hand slipping between her legs to cradle the head of someone there.

The shock roots you to the spot. You can’t look away, completely hypnotized by the way the person between the woman’s legs moans, pressing their mouth further into her, the wet smack of their mouth loud over the woman’s trembling moans.

You’ve never seen such a raw, carnal exchange. As Taehyung apologizes and grabs you and Jimin, pulling you back out into the hallway, you know you’ll never forget that momentary vision. Even as Jimin directs you to the right room to change your shirt in, you replay the scene over and over in your head, thinking of a different detail every single time: the pleasure on the woman’s face, the delicate bow of her back, the soft swells of her breasts, the wet sounds of the mouth between her legs.

It haunts you. You swallow thickly when you’re done changing, skin still smelling like beer. Your mind wanders to Yoongi, wondering if this is what he was talking about when he spoke of desire. If he also meant physical desire, the indulgence of the erotic variety.

The thought shames you so thoroughly you’re silent the rest of the night. You’re embarrassed by your immediate curiosity - angry that you even entertained the thought of being in that position with Yoongi, no matter how fleeting the idea was.

Yoongi certainly did not mean he was going to teach you that - did he?

You shake the thoughts from your head and focus on reality. Of course he didn’t mean that. Taehyung was right when he spoke about the relationships between humans and dreams - it could never be something.

Sweat trickles down your neck slowly. You feel every inch of it, your skin sensitive and over-warm. Your stomach clenches and your hands twist in your sheets as a hot mouth presses against your throat, teeth scraping, tongue licking.

An inferno grows inside of you as the mouth sinks lower. You hear your heaving breaths, loud and ragged. Your heart beats in your ears, the staccato almost louder than the whimper that leaves your mouth when a wet, messy kiss is placed on your collarbone.

It’s madness. It’s tortuous. It’s glorious, this feeling thrumming through you, making you twist your head to the side, muscles clenching and letting loose over and over again, your body completely at war with itself.

But it feels so good.

One of your hands shoots to the silky, dark hair of the person kissing your chest. You card your fingers through soft strands, tugging a little. A deep, throaty moan escapes the lips pressed to your skin, breath hot and warm.

Dark eyes meet yours, lips parted and swollen, Yoongi’s pupils blown and -

Panic explodes. You realize it’s Yoongi kissing you this way. Yoongi’s hands skimming up your sides, Yoongi’s mouth pressing searing kisses to your flesh, Yoongi’s moan that is falling from his lips, honey sweet.

“We can’t,” you whisper, though dream-Yoongi just stares at you, eyes fathomless. “We could never be something.”

“Of course we can,” he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. “You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

The weight of his gaze is blazing. You feel your skin burn under the heat of it, you feel like it’s harder to breathe, you feel the sweat run down your spine, your arms, you feel like you’re overheating, it’s hot it’s too-

You wake up to something screeching. For a moment, daylight blinds you. You hold your hands in front of your face, shielding your eyes from the light. But the light is an inferno of heat against your hand, making you gasp and choke on thick air as you blink sleep away, trying to make sense of where you are.

Fire. It isn’t daylight you’ve woken up to, it’s fire.

Leaping up from bed, you throw your sheets off, scrambling to push yourself against the wall. The flames are already high, licking toward the ceiling and filling your room with thick, grey smoke as the fire eats at the old wood of your house.

The screech comes again, the shutters on your window rattling. Heart pounding, you slide your hand along the wall, fingers trembling as you press them into the wood, trying to find the metal latch to open them. You cover the lower half of your face with your opposite arm, coughing into it.

Your fingers slip on the latch, sweaty and shaking. You inch closer to the window, getting a solid grip on the metal and flipping it upward. The latch clacks and the windows swing open, a gust of wind entering the room. It makes matters worse, the oxygen fueling the fire into a rage as it climbs higher and jumps towards your bed.

You look frantically around your room, realizing you can’t take anything. The writing desk in the corner is aflame, all of the sheets of paper and your hard-earned practice curling into smoke as they’re consumed, your letters from Yoongi turning to ash.

“No!” you sob, realizing those things are lost forever.

Again, there’s a wild screech. You turn to look out the window to see a large, brown owl - Guardian, you realize - screeching, flapping its great wings, gold eyes fixated on the fire. It yells at you again, as though imploring you to move.

You take a breath and dive out the window. For a moment as you fall toward the ground, you’re reminded that this is the second time you’re having to use it to escape danger. That thought sinks like a stone in your stomach, going down, down, down until it rests weighty in your gut.

The smack of the ground rattles you. Every part of you hurts, bones jolting as you roll until you’re flat on your back, gasping as the air leaves your lungs momentarily, knocked out of you. Scrambling up despite your limbs protesting in pain, you look up at the fire crawling over your house.

That’s when you notice it - the noise and the yelling of voices. Inside your home, with the roaring and crackling of the fire, you couldn’t hear the crowd outside. Now, you see them in full. They carry torches and farm tools, some of them with axes and hoes, others with scythes.

They don’t see you yet, giving you a long moment to stare open-mouthed as the pieces of the puzzle slide together. They’ve set your home on fire because of you - they’ve tried to kill you. Because they think you’re a demon and because they think you’re an evil creature.

Heart in your throat, you scan the lines of the faces. Toward the edge, you see your parents. A group of women consoles your mother, holding her by the shoulders gently as she stares into the orange flame. Your father stands a few feet away, almost by himself, watching and watching and watching.

They knew you were asleep. And your window had not been closed before bed - you’d been leaving it open at night so Guardian could come and go as he pleased.

You sit there on the ground, staring in shock, for too long. Someone notices you and points, screaming something that you cannot hear over the blood rushing in your ears. Panic seizes you and you scramble to your feet, sliding a few times as the crowd runs at you.

There’s no time to see what your parents do. The image of them watching their home burn with the thought of you inside is fresh in your memory, a razor-sharp cut that flays you open as you turn and run. Run toward the woods where Nathaniel chased you on that fateful night.

Run to the woods you almost died in. Run to the woods where Yoongi swooped in and made a promise to protect you.

Darkness descends. You think for a moment as you enter the woods that you won’t get lucky a second time, that your luck has run out. It’s the panic that scrambles your thoughts, and the memories of Nathaniel chasing you through these woods make you stumble and fall.

You don’t make it far. You trip over a tree root and tumble into strong arms. The smell of clove and cinnamon is overpowering as you look up at Yoongi, who pulls you into his chest. You let him, sliding your arms around his middle and pressing your face into his neck as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I’ve got you, little lamb.” His voice is dark as the shadows that wrap around you, cool and soothing to the touch. “They cannot hurt you.”

As Yoongi whisks you away like that fateful night, you hear the echoing voice scream behind you. Devil! Demon King! The Dark God!

“It’s my fault,” Yoongi murmurs, cradling your face to inspect it for the tenth time. He’s crouching in front of you, dark eyes wild as he inspects your face for any damage. You pull your jaw from his grasp - even if his touch tingles pleasantly - and look in the other direction. “I should have known.”

“Yes,” Taehyung snaps behind Yoongi, arms crossed and presence thundering. “You should have.”

There is no fire going in the library tonight. You have a feeling Yoongi has extinguished it for obvious reasons, but you say nothing. You look over Yoongi’s dark head to where Taehyung is raging, his face pinched with anger. You give him a look and he tosses his hands in the air.

“What?” he demands. “It’s true.”

“Taehyung.”

“I’m not going to lie to him. He should have known sending you back was an idiotic idea. Thinking anyone would have accepted you was an oversight.”

Yoongi grits his teeth and stands. You watch as he visibly tries to control his frustration, taking a step back from you. Tonight, he’s dressed in all black. His cloak is still on and his necklaces pool at his throat, the silver cold in the dark of the library. His hair is pulled back out of his face and you think he looks like the real Eternal, tonight.

He turns to Taehyung. “You know why I sent her back.”

“Yes, your fucked up sense of morality and-”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not sitting right here,” you snap. You ball your fists in your lap. You’re still dressed in night clothes and the scent of ash and sweat is heavy on your skin. You stare at your hands. “I want to go to bed.”

“Alright.” Yoongi’s extended hand appears in front of you. You drag your eyes up to meet his. Gone is the anger and severity, replaced only with a soft, almost fond expression. “I’ll walk you.”

Putting your hand in Yoongi's, you let him pull you out of the chair.

You could be mad at him if you tried. Perhaps it would be easy to blame Yoongi for sending you back to keep some semblance of normalcy in your life. Maybe you would feel lighter if you got angry with him for promising to protect you, but only being able to physically do so, unable to shield you from the hatred of your community.

If you tried, perhaps you could blame him for not letting you drown in the first place. For bringing you here with the fantasy that you could exist with one foot in each world.

You’re not mad at him, though. Unlike Taehyung, you don’t need to wonder why Yoongi wanted you to spend two weeks in the real world. The real world is yours. It’s where you belong. To want some sort of normalcy for you or hope that you’d be able to pick up your life there anew was perhaps shortsighted, but rooted in the desire to do good for you.

So you’re not angry with Yoongi, though you’re not sure you’re pleased either.

The walk to your room is silent. Yoongi has let go of your hand but he walks close enough that your arms brush, sending shivers down your spine. You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing, and he seems content to let you keep your thoughts to yourself.

This isn’t how you wanted to see him for the first time since your two weeks spent in your realm.

The inside of your room is warm, but there’s no fire. You almost ask if he’s doused every flame in the house, and protest that you’re not afraid, but you don’t. He follows you into your room and shuts the door behind him. You walk toward the chaise and sit on it, looking up at where he hovers by the door.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes finding yours. The emotions there are deep, but unreadable. “It was foolish of me to think they’d accept you as you were. Foolish to think that maybe the relationship with your parents might mend.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I am thousands of years old. Humankind has not changed so much in their ability to fear the unknown and react violently. I do know better, but I…” You wait for him to explain further, but he doesn’t. Yoongi lets the sentence drift off into the night. Instead of finishing it, he ventures, “Are you sure you’re unharmed?”

“Yeah, Guardian was screeching at the window.”

“Guardian?”

“Yeah, the owl. I assumed you sent it to watch over me.”

Yoongi frowns. “No, that’s what Taehyung was for. I did not…”

“What?” You see the look on his face change, shifting from confused to steel calm. “What is it?”

“Hoseok,” Yoongi mutters, turning to exit your room. “Try to get some sleep. I have a meddling owl to deal with.”

As he moves to close the door, you lean forward. “Yoongi?” He looks up, eyes wide, expression soft. He looks like a dark star, just then. The light from the window makes him glow from within, his eyes endless pools, his power ebbing in the room, a constant energy. “Thank you.”

His mouth turns downward. “For what?”

“Saving me. Again.”

His eyes darken. “Your safety will always be paramount to me. I’ll do better.”

“I think you’re doing the best you are able.”

“Thank you for saying so.”

Silence hangs between the two of you. It’s heavy, filled with friction that wasn’t there before. You squirm where you sit, suddenly unable to meet the set of eyes pinned to you. You’d forgotten what his gaze could do to you in person, and now the full force of it is dizzying.

“Goodnight, little lamb.”

A gentle scratch sounds on the other side of the window. You look up from your writing desk to the windows facing the mountains. Beyond the first sprawling peaks, you see the tallest of them all, the dark mountain wreathed in shadow and lightning.

The thunder rolls, vibrating your bones. You stare at the mountain, feeling the hair at the back of your neck stand on end. You grip the quill tight.

Beneath the hum of thunder, you hear a scratching on the glass again. You squint, but you see nothing there. Just open air and those ominous mountains in the back, watching you as you scrawl your letters.

Carefully, you set the quill down and get up. The floor is cold as you walk toward the window, which is strange. The floor is always warm in your room, as are the walls and most of the House of Dreams, fueled by whatever magic lives through Yoongi.

Near the glass, you almost feel how cold the window is. You frown and lift a hand, pressing a single finger against a pane. It’s freezing to the touch and you yank your hand back, perplexed as you stare at the single fingerprint left by your warm skin.

The fingerprint fades but the scratching sound does not. A gentle scritch scritch scritch, like a nail on the window.

“My betrothed,” someone whispers. Your blood runs cold and you whirl around, expecting to find someone standing in your bathroom. “Won’t you open the window for me? It’s so cold outside.”

Fear turns your stomach into acid. Your hands begin to shake as you stare into the emptiness of your room, suddenly feeling like it’s darker. Did the ceilings get taller? Is your room blurry at the edges? The scratching on the window intensifies, and with trembling lips, you turn to look over your shoulder.

There’s nothing outside, but there’s a shadowy reflection on the glass. A little taller than you. A little wider.

“Betrothed,” Nathaniel whispers again. “Won’t you let me in to reunite?”

For a moment, there is silence. The shadow doesn’t move. You don’t dare breathe. The shadow leaps at you and a scream tears through you -

Hands press you into something soft. You kick and scream, lashing out. Sheets tangle your legs and stick to your sweaty skin. Suddenly it feels like you can’t breathe and you thrash wildly, screaming at the top of your lungs as you claw at whatever’s holding you down.

Panic like never before seizes you. Your head smacks into something hard and it knocks you backward, suddenly dizzy as a hand comes up to your head automatically. It hurts where your fingers press into the skin, and you’re momentarily subdued by the way the room spins; the pain morphs your panic into confusion.

Breathing heavily, you blink your eyes rapidly, tears streaming down your face and vision a little blurry as you try and put the pieces together. Finally, you realize Taehyung is sitting on the floor next to your bed with his hand pressed against his forehead, in a similar fashion to your current state. Yoongi stands next to him, hands held up tentatively, as though he is about to grab you or has just let you go.

Silence hangs in the air, your breathing ragged. Your head - which you can surmise you’ve smacked against Taehyung’s - throbs wildly. As though sensing your discomfort and sticky thoughts, Yoongi’s eyes flicker away from your gaze to your head.

“May I fix that?” he asks slowly, voice gentle. “You smacked heads quite hard. I’m concerned you may be concussed.”

“Concussed,” you repeat back slowly. The word feels heavy on your tongue. “Right.”

Yoongi’s face colors with concern and he gestures toward you, asking permission again. It takes you another minute to put it together, but you nod dumbly, watching as he steps forward very slowly, dark eyes looking for any sign of protest or panic from you.

When you don’t bolt or swing at him, he takes another step toward you, hands reaching up toward your skull. You flinch when he reaches near and he stops, hands hovering. You can feel the heat of his skin a hair's breadth away, feel the magic skimming along him where he hesitates.

You look up at Yoongi. His eyes are wide and full of concern, his brows pulled up. His tongue darts out to lick his lips nervously as his eyes shift from your head to your eyes, trying to assess what to do. You smell cinnamon and clove and it calms you a little.

This is Yoongi. Not Nathaniel. Yoongi, who saved you from the grips of that hateful man and who brought you here. Somewhere that made you happy.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. You feel tired suddenly, like your adrenaline is waning and the aftereffects are bleeding you out. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, pressing his hands gently to your head. You wince, the lump there giving a painful throb as he does.

“Maybe apologize,” Taehyung mutters from his spot on the floor. “Are you going to give me magic hand, too?”

“Silence, Taehyung.” Yoongi’s voice is cutting. It’s a voice you’ve never heard him use with Taehyung, your eyes shooting up to his in shock. He pays you no mind, focused on his hands.

Warmth emanates from his palms. Immediately you feel the tingle of magic. It’s soothing, making your eyes flutter as you become dizzy again. You let the warmth wash over you, accompanied by a peculiar array of senses: dark spicy smells; the feeling of velvet against your skin; the taste of cherry wine; a warm breath against your lips.

You shiver, head rolling back a little as it grows heavy and you grow drowsy suddenly, limbs weighted, mind fading.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know that was a dream.” Yoongi grimaces and says nothing. “Why didn’t that feel like a dream, Yoongi?”

“Sleep,” Yoongi murmurs, and his voice feels very far away. “You’ll be fine, now. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Thank you.”

“An easy fix.”

Yoongi removes his hand and you catch his wrist gently, eyes opening for a moment. “No,” you slur, speech heavy as the exhaustion pulls at you. “Thank you for saving me.”

You don’t know if you mean before, or when your neighbors came for you, or now. Maybe you mean all of it. Maybe you mean saving you from a life that you hated and bringing you here. You mean it nonetheless, though you’re unsure from where the bravery came to say it.

Dropping Yoongi’s wrist, you fall backward unceremoniously onto your bed. There is no fear of Nathaniel scratching at the glass anymore, your mind mostly empty, save for the smell of cinnamon and clove.

Yoongi and Taehyung gather to leave your room, and as you fade, you catch the tiniest bit of conversation from Taehyung. “... need to teach her. It’s only going to get worse… spinner.”

Sleep takes you.

Being back in the House of Dreams feels like home. Though the lingering feeling of hot flame and the look on your parents’ faces as they watch their home burn still haunts you, you feel safer than you have in the last week.

In the House of Dreams, there's no one to mutter prayers and sign wards against evil as you pass by. There’s no one glaring at you - except Taehyung, who pouts when you steal the last of the honey for your toast at breakfast. It’s just Yoongi and Taehyung, who talk more chipper than usual at breakfast.

You eye Yoongi carefully. He sits at the head of the table, dressed in a beautiful, jade-colored silk shirt. His hair is pulled back in a bun, earrings dangling as he leads forward and plucks melon from the bowl in front of him.

Yoongi lifts the fruit to his mouth. You pause chewing your toast, eyes focused on the way he bites into the fruit, lips plush around it, a bead of juice running down his chin. Suddenly you’re thinking about the night at The Desert Rose, a head between legs, a back that’s arched, skin sweaty-

Taehyung clears his throat from across the table and draws your attention. He’s staring at you with thinly veiled amusement, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. You scowl and take a large bite of your toast before swallowing what's in your mouth, feeling heat bloom in your cheeks and neck.

Yoongi is none the wiser, chewing happily on his fruit as he scratches Tiara under her chin. She chirps like a bird and purrs like a cat, letting out small curls of smoke everytime she puffs happily.

Your mouth twitches in a smile as you look at your plate, happy to be back with them.

“I want you to come to the Dream Tower with me today,” Yoongi ventures lightly. You snap your gaze up in surprise. He looks casual, as though he’s not offering you to come to the place he works, filled with magic and dreams. “I think you could help me.”

“Me?”

His mouth quirks. “Is there another human prone to trouble around here that I’m not aware of?”

“I thought you blamed yourself?”

“So I do. But yes - you.”

“How do you want me to help?”

Yoongi grins as he pops another piece of fruit into his sinful mouth. “You’ll see.”

Despite your excitement and the promise of a look inside Yoongi’s lair, even him asking for your help doesn’t earn you a break from daily reading and writing lessons. When Yoongi gestures to the assigned work on your desk, you throw him a severe look followed by a pout. As endeared as he seems, he is unwavering, patting your desk chair as he walks by.

You’re not really mad. You fall into an easy calm as you sit down and scoot up toward the desk. The fire is low and crackling in the fireplace today and the library smells faintly of cardamom as you work. Tiara flights around the second story of the room, chittering and following Yoongi - who seems to be organizing the shelves.

Taehyung vanishes to do whatever it is he does during the day. You’re not even sure if it’s day in your world. You hope he will take you to The Desert Rose again to see Jimin and to drink cider. You love the warmth of the crowd and the loud bustle.

The House of Dreams is quiet.

Time slips as you work. You lose yourself in swirling letters and short reading passages, so much so that when there is a tingling presence near your shoulder, you flinch, ripping your quill across the page and splattering ink.

Yoongi tsks and apologizes, grabbing an ink stained cloth to wipe the spilled liquid from the desk. His proximity makes your head spin, the edge of his hips grazing your shoulder as he leans over you to clean the mess you’ve made.

Mouth drying, you drop the quill and flex your hand, coughing out an apology as you try to organize your thoughts that spill like the ink on the desk at his nearness.

Being away from him almost made you forget how dizzying his presence could be. Yoongi regards your work in silence, but all you can focus on is the measured sound of his breathing, the warmth radiating from him, the curve of his mouth, the juice running down his-

“Ready?”

“What?” you ask, blinking and looking up at him owlishly. He gazes down at you, cocking a brow. It’s obvious he had asked you a question. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening?”

“What were you doing?”

“... Staring.”

“At?”

“The wall?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” he questions, his voice laced with teasing.

You scowl and shove your chair backward into his stomach, knocking him back. He lets out a loud oof and a bit of laughter as you stand and stretch, hyperaware that he’s been in a rather cheeky mood since breakfast.

Together, you begin your walk to the tower. Tiara comes along, jumping up on Yoongi’s shoulder and curling herself around him like a scarf, her tail wrapped gently around his neck. She regards you with distaste and her tongue flickers out to taste the air, a curl of smoke escaping her nose as she huffs.

Fighting the urge to stick your tongue out at a dragon, you opt to walk in comfortable silence.

As you do, your thoughts inevitably drift to the night before and the dream that didn’t feel like a dream. For the most part, you feel like you can tell when you’re dreaming. There’s always an opaque feeling to your dreams, something a little off.

Now, you’re worried that perhaps you can’t tell the difference. You think that maybe you should ask Yoongi if he can help you tell the difference between being awake and dreaming, but your desire to ask is stopped as you reach the foot of stairs you’ve never climbed before.

Yoongi looks down at you as he begins ascending, giving you a gummy smile that sends your pulse galloping after him. You curse your traitor heart, trying to remember what Taehyung said to you about the relationship between dreams and humans. It could never work. But… you’re here. In Yoongi’s home, and you don’t know how long you’re allowed to stay - if you’re ever supposed to go back again.

Both of you seem to completely ignore that you were brought back to the dream realm ahead of schedule, that maybe going back is no longer an option.

There are doors leading to rooms as you ascend the stairs. Yoongi ignores all of them in favor of climbing up, up, and up. Your calves burn by the time you make it to the top, pausing to catch your breath and sweep your eyes across the large, circular room.

It’s stunning. Glancing up, your mouth falls open in surprise when you see that there is no ceiling, but a mass of writhing cosmos and something like a night sky. The nebulous display casts a lavender and blue glow on the room below, the two-tone light shifting and moving.

There are all manner of things in the room. Tables covered in papers, rich rugs with different designs, chairs and bookshelves and curiosity cabinets and glass cases full of glowing things that you cannot identify. Tiara hops off of Yoongi’s shoulder and floats on small wings toward a pile of blankets, twigs, and leaves that looks like a nest.

What demands your attention most, though, is the massive stone dais in the room, with a stone column about waist high with something that looks like a bowl carved into the top. From where you stand, you can see there’s liquid in the bowl that moves and shimmers with its own glow. Occasionally, a sparkle or wisp of color drifts from the cool surface.

Energy vibrates in the air. You can feel it like a static on your skin and taste it like a buzz on your tongue. You’re drawn to the dais, taking a step forward and halting. It feels like a hum shivers through you. You look at Yoongi, questioning.

“The dream pool,” he answers, as though you have any idea what that is.

He walks toward it and looks back at you, hesitating before he offers a hand. Excitement shoots through you as you take his hand and he pulls you toward it. Your hand tingles where you hold his. Even when you reach the dais and he lets go, there’s pins and needles left behind.

“This is where I help create dreams for those who can’t do it on their own.”

The liquid in the basin brightens as Yoongi steps up close. You watch as a watercolor of lights splashes across his face. He looks down into the bowl lovingly, a soft smile on his face, and so much adoration in his eyes that you find yourself watching him instead of the magical water in the bowl.

“This room is full of things that help inspire dreams. I make everything myself but Taehyung likes to help - he likes to decorate and fill the room with items that inspire creativity.”

“Somehow I think dream personified doesn’t need it.”

He shoots you a grin. “You’d be surprised. Come look.”

Tentatively, you step up next to him. You’re aware of how close you stand, his sleeves brushing yours as he places a hand on the basin. It comes up to your stomach and is two feet in diameter. The water looks so much deeper than you thought. You’re unable to see the bottom, an illusion that makes you dizzy.

Like the sky above, the water shimmers and moves with its own set of stars and colors. It feels alive, like whatever power is in the dream pool recognizes you and wakes up, spinning as you look into the glittering surface.

“I can feel and hear people dream,” Yoongi explains. “It’s like a frequency that I can tap into. I can turn it on and off at a whim. Those who don’t struggle to dream are so much quieter than those who cannot dream. I listen for those who cannot, and I come here and focus on them in my mind’s eye before creating them a dream. I pour in thoughts, feelings, scents, sounds, memories and the like into this bowl. I think it, and so it appears.”

“How?”

“What you’d call magic. Really it’s just divine power. This is a part of me,” he says, tapping the rim of the basin. “Just like dreams are.”

“How can I help you do… this?” you ask, gesturing wildly to the water.

Yoongi’s smile is angelic. “You have the raw capability of a dreamer. Someone who dreams so powerfully and loudly that it can’t help but catch my attention.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your imagination and your ability to come up with things is more innate than most people. You’re an innovator, a great conjurer of stories and fantasies. It’s a rare gift in humans. Some call you Spinners - you can spin dreams up just as easily as I can, with practice, but you cannot do so without a tool like this basin.”

“A spinner.” You remember the night before, hearing the word on Taehyung’s lips. “Are there others?”

He nods. “Under fifty in the entire world. I believe you’ve met another one. He’s the one Taehyung visits.”

“Jimin?”

“Mhmm. He’s like you. You have no power though, not in your world. Just raw ability.”

“So if I were to use this… pool of dreams, I could give people dreams.”

He nods, smiling. You smile back at him, his happiness infectious. You like the way his eyes crinkle when he grins broadly at you, the way his cheeks tint pink. It is strange to think that this soft man in front of you is also the same dark, powerful god who has swept in to save you, whose voice haunts your dreams and whose phantom touch lingers in all of the places that it shouldn’t.

Licking his lips and rolling his shoulders, Yoongi takes his stance at the basin. You watch, fascinated as he sweeps a hand over the surface, not touching the water. It ripples an entire rainbow of colors, casting shadows on his face when he peers down into the water as the surface smoothes out like a mirror.

An opaque image materializes on the surface. You watch as Yoongi concentrates. Slowly, things begin appearing. A cerulean ocean, waves rolling gently against a sandy beach. Foam clings to the sand. Starfish of every color - blue, green, red - begin to dot the beach. A gull cries above, so clear it feels like you’re there. Then you smell it - the salt, the brine. The subtle scent of driftwood. A breeze blows against your face, carrying the cool ocean mist.

You let out a laugh as Yoongi smiles, his eyes never leaving the images unfolding in the basin. You watch as a dolphin crests a wave, earning a gasp from you. You’ve never seen a dolphin, only heard about them in passing from fishermen from the coast. They spray water high into the air as they break the waves, moving smoothly through glittering waters.

It feels so real and warm, the dream bright and full of hope. Happiness. Excitement. You feel what Yoongi pours into the basin, your toes curling as though you can feel hot sand beneath your feet.

“The trick,” Yoongi explains carefully, “Is imagining everything that would make it feel real. It can’t be just what you see. It has to be what you hear, what you feel, what you smell, what emotions you evoke. You have to do all of these things at once - you have to believe in them all at once. Dreams about real things are the easiest. More complex dreams can include anything you can imagine that humans believe to be fake: dragons, brownies, griffons.”

“How do you know what to give?”

“You feel it. Place your hand on the side.”

Carefully, you lift your hand to the side of the dream pool. You hesitate and look up at Yoongi, eyes wide. He gives you an encouraging nod. You place your hand on the bowl, feeling the warm stone.

A pulse of energy flows through you. You gasp, flinching a little as you feel the basin come alive under your touch. You close your eyes as sensations flood you: hopelessness, stress, exhaustion. Suddenly, Yoongi’s dream makes sense. He instills a sense of peace and serenity at the beach, of hope and wonder with the dolphins, of rest with the cool wind and warm sand.

“Amazing,” you breathe, eyes still closed. “This is wonderful.”

“I’ll do some more. Keep your hand where it is. You’ll feel what it is they feel. Try not to think too hard about anything while you’re connected - let me do the work.”

Watching Yoongi work can happen with your eyes closed, you realize. You lose yourself in time and space. No longer are you in the Dream Tower. Now, Yoongi walks you through the world.

You enter through dreams, feeling sudden sadness or loss, even heartache. Every dream you encounter, there is profound suffering at the beginning. Yoongi gently sends the pain on its way, observes what each dreamer needs, and begins spinning up images. Sounds. Feelings.

Rain falls on your face as you stand over the tops of a misty forest. It’s gentle and cool to the touch, soothing. You smell pine and damp earth, giving you energy. Your toes feel the wet grass beneath you, grounding you and making you feel more centered than you ever have.

Wheat brushes the tips of your fingers. You look out into a sea of gold, healthy crops bending with the wind. An azure sky stretches mile after mile, not a cloud in sight as the sun heats your skin. You smell fresh air and hear the grasshoppers buzz among the fresh stalks of wheat, feeling the reward of growing healthy grain.

A dog runs after a ball. The hills are the brightest shade of green you’ve ever seen, the dog dashing up the hill and barking loudly. You feel laughter bubble up your throat and unfettered joy as thick clouds float by. The dog grabs the ball and runs back, its tail wagging and coat shiny. You feel nostalgic and happy to be reunited with a friend.

Fireflies flicker to life in a forest at night. They alight on the tree branches and your arms, casting gold luminescence on your skin. You marvel at them, spinning in a circle as you look at the dark trees. You smell the maple sap and the bark, you hear the crickets.

It’s just like the woods near your house -

Your house.

A slice of fear goes through you. You remember the darkness of the woods as Nathaniel tried to drown you, the press of his fingers into your skull. The roaring of the flooding water and the burning of your lungs. The fireflies flicker out one by one and the darkness begins to grow. You’re suddenly terrified. Curiosity vanishes and is replaced with deep fear.

You taste stale water in your mouth. You smell the smoke of your burning house. You feel water rushing up to your ankles and inching higher, you hear the screams of Nathaniel’s vitriol, you feel your lungs start to fill, the air stars to leave, the roots of the trees grab at your feet-

A sharp yank pulls you out of the forest. You gasp for air, falling backward off of the dais and onto the floor. Gentle hands cradle your face and you hear a deep voice calling out to you, speaking your name through the dull roar in your ears.

Blinking, you look upward to see Yoongi inches away from your face. His eyes are round and gentle, his hands steady. Warm. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your lips as he leans over you. A strand of dark hair escapes his bun, falling across his forehead and eye. You don’t know why, but you think it looks dashing.

“Hey,” he murmurs, searching your face. “Are you with me?”

“Yeah,” you rasp, lungs heaving. “What happened?”

His thumb brushes back and forth across your cheek as he sighs, but he doesn’t let go of your face. “You thought of the night that I saved you. Your fear was powerful. Raw. As you started to remember things you grew more afraid and you took over the dream.”

You blink once. Twice. Remember the way that the fireflies suddenly flickered out and how the water started to rush in from nowhere. “I did that?”

“I didn’t expect you to be such a natural. I had a feeling but… you caught me by surprise and shoved me out.”

“I can do that?”

“When I’m caught off guard, yes. You took control of creating the dream and turned it into…”

“A nightmare.”

He nods. “It’s my fault. I didn’t think you would think that forest looked the same, but I was wrong. I keep… having oversights. I’m sorry. I’m not good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“Being human.”

Silence suspends between you. You’re sprawled on the floor of the Dream Tower with Yoongi hovering over you. His knees are pressed against your hips and his shirt collar is hanging low as he leans, revealing more skin than you’ve ever seen from him. You don’t dare drop your eyes from his, staring at their dark depths.

The space between you is minimal and neither of you move. You hope he cannot hear the way your heart hammers in your chest or sense the way your body crackles like lightning, sparking at his proximity. The nightmare you made is long forgotten, replaced with his touch, his smell, his closeness.

Yoongi holds your face delicately, like a treasured item. You cannot imagine that he means to hold you so, but the sudden want that licks through you is powerful, your desire for him to hold you like you’re something precious surprising you in its strength.

“You make me want to get better at it.” His voice is soft, barely even a whisper.

“At what?”

A gentle laugh. “Being human. It is unfamiliar, but I wish to know more of what it's like. To have more of the instinct.”

“Why?”

He pauses. “Because I’ve lived for thousands of years, and never really had the chance to try.”

It is a similar sentiment that Taehyung had shared. The thought of Taehyung makes you smile, sitting up suddenly. Yoongi leans back on his haunches quickly, careful not to knock heads. “What?” he asks, noting your sudden excitement.

“Has Taehyung ever taken you to the Desert Rose?”

“No, I can’t say I’ve been interested. Why?”

You grab his hand. You notice the way he seems surprised, but he doesn’t pull away as you scramble to your feet. “You want to see what it’s like to be human. I know a place.”

Yoongi makes a face as he sips the beer Taehyung has thrust into his hands. You and Taehyung laugh, tossing your heads back with it. Yoongi looks unimpressed but continues to drink nonetheless, his dark eyes scanning the crowded bar.

He sticks out like a sore thumb. Eyes are immediately drawn to Yoongi wherever he goes. You think everyone must feel the divinity as he walks by them, his power a magnet for attention. Even sitting at the table with you and Taehyung, tucked near the door, people turn in their seats to get a good look at him or pause when they enter the Desert Rose.

It doesn’t help that he looks beautiful. Air had gotten stuck in your throat when he arrived at the library at the appointed time to meet you and Taehyung to come here. His hair hangs in soft waves around his face, earrings peaking between inky strands when he moves his head. His dark shirt is long-sleeved but unbuttoned at the throat, revealing a strip of pale, smooth skin and his layered necklaces. His eyes are glittering tonight, almost like constellations are held within.

Yoongi is the night. The black pants and black boots paired with the shirt make him look like a dark prince. Perhaps the son of the moon, even. You notice the way the stares turn from curious to hungry, Yoongi lighting a fire among those around him.

Jealousy sours your stomach. You hate that it does, but it’s like a second instinct, some sort of possessive monster rearing its head as you avert your gaze when a beautiful man asks Yoongi if he wants to dance. Yoongi shakes his head, giving a polite smile in return before turning away and chugging more of his drink.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was nervous.

“Thousands of years old and a room full of people scares you,” Taehyung teases, confirming your suspicions. Yoongi’s gaze is thin as a razor. “You should get out more. I’ve been telling you that.”

“Eternals don’t make a habit of walking around the human realm. Our presence disturbs the natural chemistry of the world.”

“Then why did you spend so many days in the wood-”

Yoongi kicks Taehyung under the table. He hollers in pain as Yoongi glowers, making you giggle. Though he’s no natural among the crowd, you can see that he’s trying to fit in. He watches the way people slouch in their chair and he imitates it. Drinks more of his beer, not because of the taste but because it's what people do here.

Music thrums in the room. There is a crowd of people clapping their hands and dancing, stomping their feet along to the music. You nervously look at Yoongi throughout the night, trying to see if he’s enjoying himself, wondering what he thinks of the place.

A couple near your table knocks over a pitcher of mead as the man presses the woman into the table in an arduous kiss. You can’t help but watch for a moment, entranced by the way he kisses her as though he’ll die if he doesn’t, as if her lips are the last thing he wants to remember.

Sensing Yoongi’s gaze on you, you glance at him. He stares at you, drinking you in before his eyes drift to the couple you’d been studying. Embarrassment heats your face as you bring your cup to your lips, hiding behind the tankard as you take large gulps of cider.

The cider takes the edge off. It makes you feel warm and loose, though you’re still a little nervous with Yoongi’s quiet countenance sitting beside you.

“Jimin’s here!” you announce excitedly, clapping your hands together when he appears downstairs. Taehyung’s knee bumps into the bottom of the table as he jerks to turn around. “Jimin should meet Yoongi!”

“I would love to.”

Taehyung groans. “No, please.”

“Why not?” Yoongi demands. “Should I not meet the human that brings my friend here most evenings? Should I not meet the friend of my -” Yoongi looks at you and stumbles over his words. “- my friend?”

Friend. You’re not sure if the word fits, exactly. But you don’t know what else it is that Yoongi would call you. Friend implies something beyond acquaintances, which you are sure you are. But it fits like an ill-sized dress, hanging crooked on your frame.

“I don’t want you to scare him off!” Taehyung protests.

Yoongi looks dubious. “Why would I do that?”

“Shut up,” you hiss as Jimin notices you. You lift your hand in an eager wave, beckoning him over. “Yoongi, be nice.”

“I am nice. Do you think I’m not nice?”

Instead of answering him, you get up to greet Jimin warmly with a chaste kiss on the cheek and a brief hug. When you step back, you see Yoongi’s burning gaze, a tick in his jaw as he stares Jimin down, tonguing his cheek. You hiss at Yoongi and snap your finger to signal for him to drop the severe expression.

He looks at you and his features smooth out as he rises to his feet lithely, reaching an arm around you. Yoongi startles you when he places his hand on your mid-back as he leans forward to shake Jimin’s, introducing himself.

The contact is so brief that you wonder if he had done it at all as he sits down. For a moment, you’re the only one standing, staring at Yoongi in confusion as the three men sit. They all look at you expectantly and you plop down suddenly.

“Are you alright?” Jimin asks, mirth evident in his voice.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, still recovering. It felt like a deliberate touch. Firm, but gentle. Polite, but… something. “How are you?”

To your pleasure - and Taehyung’s evident relief - Yoongi and Jimin get along fine. If Jimin is put off by Yoongi’s peculiarity, he doesn’t show it. You wonder if he’s used to being around Taehyung, who has his own strange charm and inhuman energy vibrating around him.

Yoongi says little, but seems comfortable. You watch him as he watches Taehyung, who has stars in his eyes every time he looks at Jimin. He leans closer to Jimin as they mutter about something conspiratorially, giggling behind their hands. Jimin brushes a strand of hair out of Taehyung’s face and the love that blooms in Taehyung’s expression is so evident that you wonder if Jimin knows. He has to know. And he looks like he feels the same.

When Jimin drags Taehyung up to dance, you encourage them, shooing them off toward the growing crowd of people spinning around the room. Tables are shoved out of the way, chairs scraping to make room for the revelers. You move your chair some as your table is pushed, making the beers tilt dangerously.

Yoongi grabs the leg of your chair and pulls it roughly toward him. Before you can say something, someone stumbles where your chair just was, toppling into the table next to you. You look at Yoongi with shock and he winks before returning to lounging in his seat, watching the crowd.

Now that you’re sitting much closer to him, you can smell him. Still, you try to relax, watching as Jimin teaches Taehyung the steps to the dance the crowd is doing.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Yoongi says over the loud voices. “This is nice. I see why Taehyung likes it.”

“You don’t hate it?” He makes a face and you laugh. “Yoongi, you hate it.”

“It’s a bit loud, but I don’t hate it. I like the quiet. I like… solitude. But not always. This is a good break.”

“So you never just… stroll among the people sometimes?”

“Never had a reason to.”

“But how can you make dreams if you don’t know people?”

“Dreams are inherent to me. They are an instinct. They aren’t born from people. They’re born from something rawer than that. People just happen to dream.”

You hum, not sure that you follow. Silence lulls between you as the song changes. “This place is so different from anywhere I’ve been,” you tell him. “My mother and father would have hated a place like this where people want so freely and people are so… provocative.”

“Life is provocative. So is nature, and magic. And dreams.”

“Is that why you’re a god of desire, too?” He nods once, his eyes on you. “Can you… sense what people innately desire? All the time?”

You don’t ask the real question, which is: Can you tell what I desire when I’m with you? Still, Yoongi shrugs a shoulder. “Snippets. LIke I said, I try not to pry. I don’t think that anyone here needs to be inspired by me to delve into what they want here, that’s for sure.” His eyes darken. “Though perhaps there is one.”

It is not your imagination when he says it. You know that he means you. This you are sure of. You stare at Yoongi, the rest of the room fading away. He stares right back at you, as though willing you to agree, or to deny his claim. Your heart speeds up and you feel the sweat on your neck, the slick on your palms.

“You said you’d help me indulge.” Your voice shakes when you say it. “How… do I do that?”

Yoongi’s mouth kicks up at the side. He leans forward and offers you a hand. When you just stare at it, he laughs. “Dance with me.”

“Dancing? That is indulging?”

“You might be surprised.”

Tension goes taught between you. You feel it sizzling in the air as you stare one another down. Yoongi’s hand remains outstretched, beckoning. Slowly, you put the cup of cider down and slide your hand into his. You’ve done this so many times, letting him lead you somewhere or help you up.

When Yoongi grips your hand and pulls you to your feet, it feels different than all the times before. The soft, gentle Eternal of dreams has melted away and left something sharper. Darker. Edgier. Your heart flutters butterfly-fast as he leads you to where there are people spinning in tight circles on the floor.

Yoongi yanks you toward him, pulling you into his chest. One hand loops over his shoulder, your palm cradling the back of his neck, while the other grips his. His hand goes snuggling around your waist, pulling you firmly to him as he ducks his head toward your ear, voice deep and soft as he whispers, “Follow me.”

You would follow him anywhere, you think. Anywhere at all.

Dancing is not something you ever recall doing. It wasn’t necessary where you grew up. Most of your festivals in town were a reserved affair and you’d never been to any parties or celebrations. Most weddings were stiff and formal, and not for merriment as much as respect.

Now, your world turns into a kaleidoscope of color and laughter. Yoongi spins you around the room, his feet smooth and fast. You stumble to keep up at first, but Yoongi is a confident lead, his steps instructing yours, his hands pulling and guiding you as you go.

Laughter rushes out of you. You cannot help the glee that glitters in your veins. Yoongi’s laughter is like spilled moonlight. You look up at him with a grin, seeing his gummy smile as he dips you suddenly, making you squeal. Your fingers tangle in his shirt. You know he won’t drop you but the exhilaration is in your veins as he lifts you back up, crushing you to him.

Your arms and legs burn with effort as you continue. The song changes and Yoongi lets go and spins you. You go crashing into Taehyung’s arms. He’s a far worse dancer than Yoongi, and the two of you are a mess of tripped feet, trilling laughter and elbows into ribs. He pushes you back to Yoongi’s waiting arms.

It terrifies you how much it feels like home, like a key sliding into a lock. Your arms go around him as his hands squeeze your waist. You come alive where you touch, looking up at him. He watches you, the shadow of his lashes framing delicate eyes. His mouth is red and soft.

Yoongi’s eyes dart down to your mouth. Your breath catches and he moves a little closer, pressing his head to yours, noses brushing. The entire world vanishes and it’s just Yoongi, his lips so close you can almost taste them, his fingers digging into your hips.

Your eyes flutter shut just as someone crashes into you. You scream as you’re knocked hard into Yoongi, the two of you stumbling as he catches you from falling over completely. The crowd goes wild with laughter as a man is sprawled on the ground, laughing and drunk, having lost his balance.

A breathless laugh escapes you as you and Yoongi straighten, separating a little. The moment between you is shattered, clattering away like pieces of broken glass as you catch your breath and gather your wits. You look around, searching for Taehyung only to see him alone at your table, eyes heavy and gaze lingering across the room. You turn to see Jimin leaning on the bar, smiling at something a woman is whispering in his ear.

Glancing back at Taehyung, you see him shove away from the table and storm out the door. Yoongi notices this too, but he’s slow on the uptake, his hand still on your hip. You shake off his hold on you and go after Taehyung, shouting his name.

Taehyung is just outside the Desert Rose, head tilted down and shoulders pulled up tight around his ears. When you touch the small of his back, he flinches, gazing at you with tear-stained eyes and a look so crestfallen you feel your heart crack.

He sniffs. “This is why,” he whispers. “This is why I told you we can never be. Humans and dreams - we aren’t. We don’t match.”

“Taehyung,” you whisper. You don’t know what else to say. You open your arms and he leans into you, folding in half as he sobs, breaking down into your shoulder. You hush him gently, holding him tight and squeezing him, trying to pour your love into him.

Over Taehyung’s shoulder, your gaze settles on Yoongi. He watches the two of you in silence, face impassive. And your heart breaks a little more, realizing the truth of Taehyung’s words.

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wangxianficfinder · 3 months ago

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Fic Finder

Oct 6th

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1. Hello. I’m hoping you can help me find a fic. In it Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are poisoned at Jinlintai and fake their deaths. Their bodies are brought back to the ancestral hall at cloud recesses and they escape and live away from the cultivation world for many years. Theres two parts and in the second part the sect leaders come to their mountain thinking immortals live there and asking for help dealing with problems they can’t solve. (Ie The Lan sect is dealing with resentful ghost). Thanks!! @vegdawn

FOUND? To live with no regrets Series by Lyna_Mei (E, 96k, WIP, WangXian, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Angst, Self-Esteem Issues, Golden Core Reveal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Developing Relationship, non-consensual marriage, CQL-Verse, Case Fic, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Cultivation Sect Politics, Cultivation World Critical, Not JGY Friendly, Family Feels, Found Family, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian)

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2. hi this is for the fic finder! i’m looking for a fic i read which i’m pretty sure is completed. it should be wangxian, modern au, and i think wwx was living alone (maybe estranged from the jiangs?) and i think mo xuanyu and xue yang were kid brothers who lived in his building that came to hang out with him sometimes? and he was sorta like a big brother to them? this wasn’t a major plot point but it was definitely there. and a-yuan may or may not have been there, either living with wwx or the wens in the same building. does anyone know what this is?

FOUND? Visitations by Vir_Abelasan (M, 18k, WIP, WangXian, past XiYao, Modern AU, Corporate Espionage, Post-Divorce, Reconciliation, Father-Son Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Custody Arrangements, Not a revenge fic, Past Abuse)

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3. Looking for a highly specific fic where WWX is forced to wear scantily clad armour that only covers his nipples and man-bits as a punishment by Madam Yu. Wangxian encounter each other in a night-hunt sort of thing, but its not set in the jianghu but an AU where its more fantasy magic with warlocks, that sort of thing? There is a specific scene where WWX has to go change the armor and it hurts alot and makes LWJ very sad and angry at madam yu?? GOSH HELP its been stuck in my head foreverr thank u

FOUND? 🔒 His Knight in Shining Armour by celerydragon (E, 23k, WangXian, dead dove do not eat, Curses, Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Slut Shaming, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, yu furen sucks, protective lwj, Hurt/Comfort, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, mild dirty talk, Biting, Outdoor Sex)

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4. Hello, I am looking for an AO3 Fix it Fic where all the sects bring gifts to the Burial Mounds to compete showing who is the most generous. @hopefulbeardface-blog

FOUND? The Untamed: A Dinner to Remember by YenGirl (Not Rated, 33k, WangXian, XuanLi, post sunshot, Indulgent Fic, Feed WY & the Wen survivors, Some angst, Some humour, Dinner is about family and love, Some Fluff, Soft Boys, Manly Tears, JGS is still greedy, Possible OOC-ness, No hundred holes curse, Unreliable Narrator, accidental heroes, Some violence and gore in Chap 9, Redeemed JGY, Redeemed SS)

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5. HI!!!this is for a fic finder, it had madam yu as a super toxic parent idrm bt maybe she was also abusive, she sends wwx to this school owned by the lans and i think theres 2 divisions, 1 for the smart kids and one for the delinquents

the school is super weird and strict , lqr is especially mean to wwx and all the staff is aswell and they do horrible things to him and in the end i think lxc exposes his uncles school?? wwx and lzh get tg to.

Thankyou!! @jnxi839

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6. Hi! For FicFinder

The fic I'm looking for is canon divergence, I believe. I can't remember if it had time travel or not, but Wei Ying left the Jangs before the war. I think there was focus on his inventions. The only clear details I can remember are the Jins giving him multiple chests full of gold, and them sending him someone to his rooms in the night. The person gets caught in an array at the door. Also, there were two Lans assigned to help Wei Ying. Thanks in advance! @rens-shadow

FOUND? Just go forward like you mean it by tawaen (M, 101k, WangXian, WWX & WN &WQ, WWX & JYL, NHS & WWX, Canon Divergence, WWx does not attend the Wen indoctrination, WWX saves Lotus Pier, Inventor WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, Sect Leader JYL, JC Has No Golden Core, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Not JC Friendly, but he gets a happier ending than canon so don’t look here for bashing)

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7. Fic finder please!🙏

A wlw wangxian where LWJ was self conscious about her body bc LQR wasn’t really helpful when she was going through puberty and bought her too small bras and stuff and then she meets wwx, much later on who encourages her to wear what she likes and love her body. There’s a scene with them on the couch cuddling and idk how it ends bc ao3 went down and I lost my tab!! 😭😭😭

FOUND? your lips, my lips, apocalypse by lily_winterwood (E, 12k, WangXian, Modern, Fashion & Models, College/University, Lingerie, Burlesque, Rule 63, partial genderswap, Not Everyone is Cisswapped, Nonbinary Character, Trans Male Character, Female LWJ, Female WWX, Trans LXC, References to conservative Chinese family values, Mild Transphobia, Body Dysphoria, Self-Esteem Issues, Brief reference to eating disorders, Sexism, Pining, Filial Piety, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Gender Changes)

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8. fic finder help! there is a modern fic where lan zhan and Wei ying are best friends and the fic starts off with Wei ying asking lan zhan to call off work to play hooky for the day. eventually we find out Wei ying quit his job (he's working with the jiangs). it was part of a series I think. @the-marathon-continues-nip

FOUND! in good time by magicianprince (T, 11k, WangXian, Slice of Life, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Modern AU, modern with cultivation (pretty background tho), lwj has a cat, and some unresolved feelings! oh boy, "in good time" by magicianprince [Podfic] by The_Grynne)

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9. Looking for a fic where lan xichen and possibly lan qiren? go into a meeting with the elders, who have been giving Wei wuxian a hard time, and they hand out lists of rules that the elders have each individually have broken @lonelyreverances-corner

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10. hi i have a request: i want to find fanfic which included older lan wangji (i think he was older by 7 years) who meets wei wuxian in yiling and it is their first meeting. he and lan xichen are twins and it is mostly focused on lwj visiting burial mounds and wy and lz have a sex not long after they meet first time. i think it counted from 20 to 30 (or 35) chapters and it also had 18+ fanarts

FOUND? Awaiting Your Return by Karmiya (E, 126k, WangXian, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, the opposite of slow burn, Found Family, Canon Divergence, Age Difference, discussions of wwx's canonical abusive childhood)

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11. Hi! I'm looking for a fic (I think it may be a series of fics) where Wei Wuxian was accused of spying on Lan Corp. I think this is one where Lan Wangji believes in him the entire time and leaves his family over the accusations. I don't remember if he served any time or not, but the truth comes out that he was innocent (thanks in part to NHS). WWX and LWJ live with Wens, started a company with them, and live in the same building with them.

FOUND?🔒 moonlight falls Series by RoseThorne (T, 19k, WangXian, Modern, Found Family, Corporate Espionage, Bunnies, Adoption, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, References to Depression, Anxiety, Blind Character, POV Third Person, POV WWX, Confrontations, Bad Parent LQR, Dissociation, Mental Health Issues, Anniversary, Food, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Emotional Constipation, Communication Failure, JC is Bad at Feelings, JC is Trying, WWX Needs a Hug, Implied/Referenced Sex, Food Sex, Friendship, Reconciliation, Psychological Trauma)

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12. hi! i am looking for a fic that is a juniors time-travel fix it. i know they go back in time to right before jin zixuan gets killed and save him, the juniors reveal that wangxian are married in the future, and then also there is a scene where jin zixuan and jiang yanli tell older jin ling that he is their son, too, even though baby jin ling is there. thank you so much! @whenstarsignite

FOUND! ❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

NOT FOUND! Time, Time, Time by skeletonofaplant (G, 44k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LSZ & WWX, JYL & JL & JZX, LJY & LSZ, Time Travel Fix-It, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Angst, Fluff, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travelling Junior Ensemble, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Humor)

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13. Hi! I'm looking for two fics. I think I initially saw B on this page, but I can't find it anywhere

A) A meteor crashed near college student WWX’s house, where he finds a shape-shifting bunny/toddler alien A-Yuan. LWJ is also a different kind of alien.

B) I think it takes place in a camp after defeating the Wen. JGY spikes the Lan's tea with alcohol. LWJ and WWX spend the night together, but by morning the Jiang siblings think it was noncon. Eventually JGY confesses that it was JGS's idea to serve alcohol.

13A)

FOUND! Lost and Found by diamondbruise (E, 52k, WangXian, Modern AU, Aliens, Slow Burn, Alien LWJ, Crack Treated Seriously, Soulmates, Kid Fic…..kind of, i use that tag very loosely, Masturbation, Rough Sex, canon typical cnc elements, Happy Ending)

13B)

FOUND! The Teapot Plot by ToxicAngel13 (M, 52k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Misunderstandings, Plots, protective Jiang siblings, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Idiots in Love, Damn Jins, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Pre-Burial Mounds, Potential for M-Preg, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Idiots Everywhere, LWJ ’s Biting Kink, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Protective LWJ, Protective WQ, JGS is his own warning, Protective JYL)

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14. hiya! for the fic finder, i'm struggling to find a fic i read a few months ago - not sure if it's been deleted or not. i am fairly certain it was an a/b/o au where wwx was carrying lwj's kid by the time he ended up in the burial mounds and basically he kept control of the spirits by asking the female ghosts to help him protect him unborn baby. wen qing also refused to take his golden core because of the baby and jiang cheng ended up with wen ning's core instead going into the sunshot campaign. the wen siblings and the wen remnants live in this au and help wwx raise his daughter after she's born. somewhere along the way wwx tells his siblings and lwj about his daughter too.

second fic i've been looking for, but not as much of a priority to me as the first one, all i remember about this one was lwj found out about wwx giving up his core almost immediately after it happened and wwx lets lwj help him sooner. one scene i remember was wwx and jiang cheng were arguing and jiang cheng uses zidian on wwx and mortally wounds him and stops wwx heart (i think?)

thank you for your help in advance! <3

14A)

FOUND! 🧡 Don’t Wanna Fall by nekojita (M, 111k, WangXian, Mpreg, A/B/O, Fix-it, Lots of pining, Angst with a happy ending, Canon Divergence, Child thief WN)

14B)

FOUND! these colours fade for you only by doodlebutt (T, 36k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, …eventually, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Sunshot Campaign)

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15. Hi! This is for fic finder. There are 2 fic that i want to read

A) It short fic. JYL and WWX likes to play the "xianxian is 3 years old". I dont remember how but NMJ knows and ask to join with NHS. JYL give them permission, thinking it was like a play between her and WWX. Then they (JYL and WWX) found out it was different. Between JYL and WWX is like a play pretend but between NMJ and NHS is different in a way that NHS transform into a 3 years old child

B) The story is between yunmeng trio and nie sibs. JGY wants to make the nies and jiangs enemy. He then found out that NHS didnt have a single blood of nie. In the discussion conference, he invite nhs blood aunt that thinking nhs deserve better than become the second young master of the nie and revealed that nhs is jfm child not the former nie's sect leader. I only remember that

Thanks

15A)

FOUND? Little by nirejseki (T, 3k, NHS & JC & WWX & NMJ, Age Regression/De-Aging, Non-Sexual Age Play, Misunderstandings)

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16. I'm hoping you guys can help me find a fic I vaguely remember. It was fox!wwx and I think he was in an arranged marriage to lwj, but before he left he cut off a tail and left it as a present for JC to find (I think) when he got back to Lotus Pier.

I think I've read #16, was the Jiangs doing a silk/cloth dyeing business and JYL was super sick, and Wei ying was conscripted to be part of the search for a mate for prince ? I'll try to find it if it is

FOUND! #16 reminds me of the deleted "Bleeding Bones, Aching Hearts " by scarletmoontears. Do you remember if Wei Ying was a war general of Yunmeng Jiang and was sent as a warprize to the Lans?

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17. Hi!! I'm looking for a fic. This is a Modern AU where WWX fakes his death (I think because of Madam Yu) and LWJ sends him voice and text messages during his grieving process. Everything changes when WWX accidentally answers one of those messages and LWJ finds out he's not dead. I don't recall more. Thank you so much for your help!! @fantasiacoral-blog

FOUND? Love Don’t Belong To Me by airinshaw (E, 28k, WangXian, Modern, Getting Together, Kissing, Intercrural Sex, Light Angst, Happy Ending, PTSD, Panic Attack, WWX’s canonical self-esteem issues, Canonical Child Abuse, not as dark as the tags imply, Past Relationships mention)

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18. Hello! This if for a fic finder

A) mo xuanyu is a ghost that stays with wwx i think he and wwx can both be concious in the body? Idrm much but it was wwx/mxy/lwj

B) this was a modern au lan jingyi came out to his parents or something like that and they gor abusive , jiangcheng ends up adopting jingyi or smth like that they tale him to a doctor too I remember jiangcheng and lan xichen were dating

18A)

FOUND? Serrated by InkSplatterM and MrMissMrsRandom (E, 194k, WangXianYu, Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Gore, Past Abuse, Canon Divergence, MXY Lives, spirit possession, 2/3 men are virgin idiots, WWX is an emotional dunce, MXY is gay and tired, LWJ finds his heart is very large, Discussions of Suicide, Suicide Attempt, victim self-blame, Panic Attacks, mentions of past sexual abuse, PTSD, Past Rape/Non-con, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Outdoor Sex, Exhibitionism, light cum play, Praise Kink, gentle dirty talk, D/s elements, Under-negotiated Kink, Dom MXY, Sub LWJ)

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19. Hello! I'm looking for a modern au fic wherein i think lwj and wwx are roommates. wwx is writing a paper on the effect of spanking on children and asks lwj to spank him to experience it firsthand. i think there's a couple of instances where wwx forgets to clear out the sink and stuff and gets spanked for it and then gets aftercare??? i think there's some dialogue that goes like "my hand. no french. over the couch" idk?? I cannot seem to find it

FOUND! "The Efficacy of Spanking on Behavioural Change" by redscudery (E, 15k, WangXian, SL/WWX, Platonic BDSM, Oblivious WWX, Spanking, we all know this is not platonic, With One Exception, Bisexual Disaster WWX, Light Dom/sub, not a single brain cell was consulted, Boys Kissing, Boys In Love, Getting Together, First Time, Lube Shenanigans, mild alcohol and marijuana use, Non-graphic vomiting, big bisexual awakenings r us, Love Confessions, Modern, Canada)

~*~

20. Hi I would like to ask if you know the title of the story in ao3 that I read back then. It’s like burial mound setting, they made a village inside the Burial Mounds but it’s hidden in the rock and no one can enter but then they invited Lan Xichen in their home. Thank you have a nice day ahead!

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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bangtans-momma · 12 days ago

Text

Bully Me

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Pairing: Jungkook x Curvy Bully oc

Word Count: 12.7k words (sorry it’s so long again!)

Genre: Bully, BTS AU, One Shot, Smut, Yandere, Non Consensual, Cult, Demonic, Supernatural, Curvy Girl, Original Character.

Rating: 18+ MATURE. Smut, Adult Themes, Non Consensual, violence, death and gore, hard swearing.

Description:

Jeon Jungkook’s bully is an older woman called Dria, she trips him over, laughs at him and she’s always humiliating him and calling him horrible names. The thing is, Jungkook likes it just a bit too much because when she does it she’s giving him attention. He likes what she does and regularly runs off to the bathrooms or his apartment to relieve himself.

To everyone else Jungkook is a quiet studious student with only two friends, Jimin and Taehyung. But when he’s not at college he’s someone else entirely, too bad that Dria realised it just a little bit too late.

Content And Triggers:

BTS AU, College Setting, Yandere Jungkook, Sadomasochistic Jungkook, Stalker Jungkook, Demon Jungkook, Switch Jungkook, Deviant Jungkook, Bitch OC, Bully OC, Bratty Rich OC, Switch OC, Curvy OC, Older OC, Bullying, Violence Towards Jungkook, Jungkook is obsessed, Forced Marriage, Arranged Marriage, Satanic Cult, BTS Demons, Rituals, Virgin Sacrifice, Supernatural powers, Possession Of Someone, Mention Of Gore, Use Of Knife, Death of Minor Character’s, Swearing, Smoking, Blood Kink (Drinking Blood), Drugging With Substance, Mind Control, Evasive Thoughts Projected Into Head (Oral, Use Of Strap On, Fisting), Non Consensual, Dubious Consent After Corruption, Smut, Stalking, Dirty Talk, Masturbating (M), Exhibitionism, Ritual Sex, Use Of Supernatural Powers, Choking, Spiting, No Protection, Breeding Kink, Forced Pregnancy, Raw Sex, Squirting, Oral Sex (F), Face Sitting, Anal play, Marking, Hair Pulling, Biting, Hickies, Use Of Mommy and Puppy In Fantasy, Degradation, Forced Public Sex. Corruption Kink (Corruption Of Soul).

Author’s Notes:

WARNING ⚠️🔞

Hope I have written down all the TW’s this is yandere AND non consensual through mind control. Please read the warning!

🔞NO MINORS ON THE BLOG PLEASE, THiS STORY HAS ADULT THEMES.

Tried to take away too many descriptive appearance words, it’s hard to not describe anything about someone when I’m used to visualising someone ha ha. But I tried to not describe hair or eye colour on FMC, so no hair colour of eye colour. So you can imagine her as you want. She is a Curvy reader though and I have to represent us curvy girls too. So she is mentioned as being curvy and her body is mentioned.

I do not own BTS or their likeness. This is only fan fiction that comes from my own imagination and any depiction of BTS in any of my stories does not represent them in real life. None of this is real life, only pure fiction. None of the behaviour of the BTS member’s namesakes OR anything else that happens in my stories represents them in reality. Picture is part AI, part mine as I added and changed things to it, like the eyes being black, more like Jungkook, the background and made the wings more messy etc.

MASTERLIST: here

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Bully me.

Jungkook is laid on his bed tugging at himself as precum leaks from his swollen tip, groaning as he covered himself in a layer of filthy cum and sweat. He just can’t stop himself as he thinks of her, his bully, Dria. She turned up here last year and is one of the older students at age twenty five, he is twenty two.

Those sexy curves, her full breasts and her beautiful natural plump pout. Her long luscious hair that stops at her thick ass and her stunning piercing eyes.

He just knows her thighs are thick and juicy too, he can’t wait to mark them. She always wears fitted clothes and those stiletto high heels that he wished she would press against his hard length.

The way she sneers his name and chucks things at him, how she laughed at him when he dropped all his books after she shoulder checked him. And how she called him puppy earlier and sniggered when she realised that he was rock hard in his trousers because of her.

The harsh tug of his hair as she looked down at his hard erection with a wicked grin was like wet dream fuel for him. Jungkook can’t help thinking that she is an evil bratty bitch, but he likes that as he knows her real thoughts.

“Aww Puppy! Are you hard because I just humiliated you? Fucking pathetic little thing aren’t you?”

She had taunted him as she squeezed at his hard length, digging her nails in as she yanked spitefully at his dark hair, hurting him so damn good. Before finally spitting on his face and watching as it dripped down landing right by his lips.

Her worried eyes widened like she only just realised what she just did to him and Dria abruptly let him go before turning to leave immediately with widened disturbed eyes.

She does that a lot, it’s like she suddenly realises just how far she keeps going with her bullying. It’s been getting worse as It has been turning out to be increasingly sexual lately. Jungkook knows that the very thought of her own behaviour scares her.

Not that he cares as he would gladly bury his face in her wetness if she told him to get to his knees and pleasure her whilst spitefully pulling his hair.

He stared at her with sinister hungry orbs as she waltzed off cackling at him like she wasn’t just shocked by her own deviant behaviour, his length was twitching violently in his black slacks at her sinful actions. Her curvy hips swaying as she walks off looking divine in her tight dress, her spank worthy ass looking exquisite.

Smirking like a deviant himself, he licked the spit off his lips with a lewd obscene groan as he threw his head back.

This one interaction would usually give Jungkook enough spank bank material for weeks. But he needs more, much more, he has to have more because he’s been waiting so long for her to be his.

Because he has been saving himself for her and only her. She is going to be his soon. . very soon.

He’s unhealthily obsessed with his bully and can’t wait to get his hands on her plump ass and slap it. Dig his fingers into her voluptuous flesh around her stomach and bite at her chubby cheeks.

Jungkook wants to wrap his hand around her pretty neck and bury himself in her and never leave. His tugs get faster as he thinks of the older woman and how perfect she would feel wrapped around him.

How good he would feel filling her up and breeding her like the good little Mommy she is. She’s going to be the Mommy of his child, so tonight he’s calling her Mommy like the pathetic little puppy she thinks he is. But he’s anything but a puppy, he’s an apex predator, a nightmarish predator. Shame she won’t find out until it’s way too late for her to do anything about it.

“M-Mommy, so good”

Jungkook sinfully whines, thrusting his hips up into his hand with his eyes closed thinking of her. Using the copious amounts of cum from his messy stomach as lube.

“Fuck, just like that Mommy. . . yesss ahh!”

He hisses whimpering as he ejaculates all over his tensed tattooed abs, his teeth biting into his bottom lip.

“Such a dirty slut Mommy, I’m gonna fuck my babies into you and make you mine. Not long now my precious, I’ve seen to it. Mine forever”

Jungkook pants and finally collapses onto his bed with a malevolent grin on his face as his messy hands grab a cigarette and he lights it with his zippo lighter.

Inhaling the smoke harshly he lays there contented and covered in his own filth, as he finally feels satiated after jerking off four times. Grabbing his phone he clicks on the app and checks on the cameras inside of his obsessions home.

“Hmm she’s having a shower, fuck! Look at that ass, can’t wait to sink my teeth into that soft juicy skin. Fill it up with my cum until it’s leaking everywhere. So perfect for me”

He lewdly groans watching her with his twisted onyx orbs that fool so many with their doe eyed innocence in public.

His phone rings showing his father’s name, a wicked smirk climbs on his face as he answers.

“Hi Father”

Jungkook replies, sounding relieved to hear from him, he was going to call him anyway as he’s getting so fixated on having her that he’s starting to feel bitterly impatient.

“Hello son, how are you?”

His father replied with the same sort of tone, sounding relieved that he had answered him right away.

“I’m absolutely perfect, father. Have you got what I wanted sorted out yet? I have been waiting rather patiently”

He demands, sounding like a spoiled child. Even though he’s anything but a child.

“Of course I did, my son. Her parents were most agreeable when he gave them a deal. But her greedy parents were worried she might sabotage it”

His father sniggers and Jungkook can feel himself getting hard again when the thoughts of finally having her invade his fixated mind.

“Don’t worry, there is nothing she can do to sabotage it, father. No matter what she does, it won’t deter me in the slightest. I should thank you for helping me so quickly. When is it?”

Jungkook asks with a sinister grin taking another drag of his cigarette as he lays there still covered in his own filth.

“It’s all set for Sunday, so four days”

A malevolent grin grows on his face as she’s going to feel his unholy deviance as soon as Sunday night comes.

“Can’t wait, thank you Father”

Jungkook replies sounding childish in his own head, but all he can think about is his thick length twitching as depraved thoughts of her consumed him again.

“Anything for you son, I remember how hard it was to get your mother. I had to threaten her parents at first. It’s okay though, sometimes they need a tiny persuasive nudge. That’s why I ended up contacting our father, I didn’t care as long as I got your mother. Of course the price was you and that I became his vessel when needed, but I don’t regret it. So when are you coming back to the village? The earlier the better I think son, maybe get here Friday as we need to do the necessary traditions first. I’m glad you found your chosen one. I was a bit sceptical of you going to college to find your chosen one at first, but it’s all worked out. Do you have the small thing ready that you have to bring?”

His father chuckles in amusement.

“Of course Father, I know it has to be something you will miss so it’s gonna be my girlfriend Minji. A relationship of three years should be a good one right? This is exactly what I cultivated the entire relationship for”

Jungkook nonchalantly speaks and his father cruelly laughs at his reply.

“Good idea Jungkook, I always thought she was too pure and shy for you. Too skinny and mousy to produce a Jeon heir. I seriously thought she was going to be your chosen. You had us all worried for a second there. Jimin’s description of her was very telling. I hope this other girl is more compatible to be your chosen one”

His father sniggers spitefully when talking about his pathetic girlfriend.

“She’s something I passed the time with, got a perfect mouth, but I left her purity intact on purpose. I picked her because she wanted to wait until marriage. I wouldn’t have ever gone near her otherwise, it’s been a bit exhausting to play the good boyfriend for three years, but it was needed. Dria is perfect for me, you will see. She will be easy to corrupt”

Jungkook smirks cruelly as his father starts laughing maniacally.

“Oh he will love that! Yes I can imagine how vexed you were to entertain that, son. Can’t wait to see your chosen one”

Jungkook’s father says enthusiastically.

“See you on friday night Father, I have to go clean up”

Jungkook tells him, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray.

“Goodbye son, see you Friday”

Jungkook puts the phone on the bed and sighs looking at his rigid erection.

“One more time won’t hurt, I just can’t help it when I think of my chosen one”

Jungkook grunts tugging at his sensitive shaft, his length is always insatiable for her.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jungkook is leaving for his village tonight, Jimin and Taehyung are of course coming back with him as his underlings. His stupid idiot of a girlfriend is coming too, stupid naive bitch thinks she is going to meet his parents. She is meeting them, but not in the way she thinks. Jungkook can only think of Dria and how good she’s going to feel wrapped around his starving shaft, he’s ravenous at this point.

He’s on his way to get some food in the cafeteria and he comes across Dria who smirks maliciously when she sees him.

Jungkook tries to school the pure glee on his face when she yanks at his hair and pulls his face to hers. He can’t help going hard already as she goes to spit onto his face again. An idea pops into Jungkook’s mind as he smirks to himself thinking about how she just gave him an idea to completely stop any sabotage from her.

He yanks her to him by her hair, biting her lip harsh enough to draw blood, he starts sucking at it harshly, swallowing some of her life essence groaning.

Jungkook bites down on his tongue, sucking hard to fill his mouth with blood.

Before plunging his tongue in her mouth, transferring loads of it into her mouth as his tongue bleeds profusely. Knowing that when it comes down to it she will never be able to disobey him.

She finally pulls him away from her mouth by his hair in mock disgust, he flashes her a disturbing grin, a blood splattered grin with macabre blood stained teeth. She looks like she is going to spit it out so he intervenes.

“Tsk! Don’t be a bad girl for me. Fucking swallow it”

Jungkook menacingly growls, yanking her head back and pinching his fingers over her nose and covering her mouth with his palm so she has no choice.

She tries to deter him by digging her fingernails in his arm and slapping him, but nothing moves him at all, he’s like a steel wall. Her wide eyes look frantic when she realises that she has no choice but to ingest his blood.

Dria gulps it down panicking and starts to struggle harshly grabbing at his hair again, she flails about but Jungkook is inhumanly strong. As soon as she sucks against his hand trying to desperately get air he finally moves his hand from her mouth. She gasps in air, then gags as Jungkook cruelly sniggers at her.

“Good girl”

He mocks her with a sinister smile as she stares up at him in disbelief.

“You fucking freak! Gross!”

Dria screams at him wiping her mouth, letting go of his hair and running off to the female toilets.

He can hear her thoughts, she’s not disgusted by the blood, she’s disgusted at herself for liking what he just did to her. He giggles like a psycho as she storms off.

“Hmm, fucking delicious. Can’t wait to see her face on Sunday. But you are not throwing that up, STOP”

Jungkook groans with excitement as he watches her sexy retreating figure, he clicks his fingers and she stutters then carries on walking. His grin is maniacal when he realises that his plan is working already.

He knows that if he doesn’t get a release now he will be hard for hours thinking about her sweet bloody lips and how delicious the sweet iron tinged blood tasted on his starved tongue. So he goes to the male bathroom muttering to himself about her as he thinks about destroying her little pussy.

He already feels her lifeforce coursing through his body after drinking her blood and it’s exciting him as he starts to put macabre disturbing thoughts into his chosen ones head. Thoughts of her drinking his blood and licking it off Jungkook’s body, he makes her orgasm hard in the vision, just to torment her even more.

He sniggers as he imagines her being both disturbed and turned on by these visions and later on her dreams. She’s just as much of a deviant as he is and she tries so very hard to deny herself of the truth about her lustful feelings.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jungkook is in a car with Jimin, Taehyung and Minji driving to his village.

It’s currently seven thirty pm and he’s feeling so happy that he’s going to get his chosen one in just a few days. His whole act with Minji and others at college can finally drop as soon as they are home. Although he won’t be going back there anyway, he’s already finished and completed his final papers and coursework anyway.

Taehyung smirks with a sinister glint in his eyes as he glances back at Jungkook, he gives him a wicked wink as they drive down the long private road to the isolated village. The vibe in the car has changed and Minji nervously bites at her lip with a frown growing on her face.

Minji comments how remote it is out here and Jimin sniggers saying they need it that way for privacy. Making Jungkook and Taehyung chuckle with matching malevolent expressions. Minji suddenly shifts in her seat, feeling very uncomfortable for the first time on the trip, goosebumps climbing up her panicked body.

As soon as they get to the secure gated community Minji doesn’t look so well anymore and is slightly pale. What did he mean by the way he said private, it had a sinister undertone. The security guards are all so gleeful to welcome Jungkook back, they all call him Master and tell him they are looking forward to the unholy union.

Jungkook thanks them with a monstrous looking smile and Minji’s heart speeds up thinking that she has made a grave mistake coming here. But why wouldn’t she trust Jungkook, he’s been nothing but a gentleman. The very fact that there are security guards and a very high fence with razor wire around this village has alarm bells ringing in her head.

Jungkook is greeted at a huge mansion by an older female who is in her late thirties or she just looks very young. And a man who looks like he is around fifty, maybe sixty. The woman is definitely his mother as they have the same face shape and the same kind of nose. But the father is about five inches shorter than Jungkook and there are no signs of them being related at all, maybe he’s a step dad.

“Son! We are so glad to welcome you home, we are so proud that you found your chosen one. I can’t believe that you finally found the one. She will be here tomorrow, her parents are bringing her for the ceremony. They both agreed to the union”

The woman who is Jungkook’s mother declares with a manic looking grin on her lips.

Minji feels a little comforted when they mention the chosen one as she must be the chosen one they are talking about. The word chosen is weirding her out but she’s happy that they accept her.

That is until they tell him that she will be here with her parents tomorrow for the ceremony, she now thinks they are talking about an arranged marriage. One that doesn’t involve her.

Why is she here then? She thinks to herself, as tears start stinging her eyes.

She realises that he’s having an arranged marriage and he thinks that she’s going to be content to be some pathetic mistress. Minji is really hurt that Jungkook never told her that he would have to be in an arranged marriage. She wants to go home right now.

“NAMJOON!”

The father yelled out abruptly with a stern expression that scared a dazed Minji out of her internal panic and a man came so abruptly that it’s like he almost appeared out of nowhere.

“Take the blood sacrifice to the cells, protect her as she is pure and not to be touched. She is for our father”

As soon as he points at Minji she starts hyperventilating and looks at Jungkook with an expression of utter betrayal.

“J-Jungkook! What. . no! Please don’t! Wh-What is going on? No!!”

Minji pleads now sobbing as Namjoon grips her arm harshly and actually teleports away with her. He just stares at her like she disgusts him.

She’s pleading with Namjoon to help her, who glares at her with pure black orbs growling at her. She also can’t forget that sinister glare on Jungkook’s face as she got dragged away. He was cold as ice as he sneered at her in complete disgust.

Minji is so terrified that she faints as he puts her in a dark concrete floored cell, placing her on the floor.

Jungkook is currently laughing and joking with his mother and surrogate father, his real father isn’t even in this realm. . . yet. They snigger about how utterly pathetic Minji is and how his father will love the blood of his virgin sacrifice.

Jimin comments that he can’t wait to see Dria’s face when she realises she is meeting Jungkook here for marriage.

Jungkook laughs maniacally as he tells them that he transferred blood earlier so she can’t do anything but obey him.

They all delve into loud maniacal laughter, finding the very thought of her being unable to resist hilarious.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dria is extremely irritated today as her parents threatened to cut her off for good if she didn’t meet this man who gave them an extremely good marriage offer. They are being so pushy about it.

She smirks as she sits in the back of their car, she knows that she will sabotage it exactly like she did to the other twenty one men that they tried to marry her off to.

Her parents are not going to get her to marry some rich douchebag in an unloving arranged marriage. Most of those men tried to sleep with her and although she’s not a virgin, she’s also not sexually experienced either. One actually tried to assault her and put his hand up her skirt to touch her panties whilst eating at a restaurant.

She is feeling so tired today, her catch up nap earlier was interrupted by nightmares numerous times and she doesn’t know why. Dria wonders if the incident in the hallway with Jungkook earlier freaked her mind out. The dreams were monstrous, macabre and explicitly deviant. Blood, sexual depravity and gore filled her dreams.

She doesn’t know where these horrific monsters in her dreams came from but the violent version of Jungkook with the harsh voice was prominent, but it’s all she dreamed about, Jungkook and demonic looking creatures.

One dream had four versions of Jungkook all having sex with her at once and she felt overwhelmed as they all filled her holes whilst the forth one choked her and savagely assaulted her breasts. Biting spitefully around her areola with his sharp canines and making blood drip down her torso.

Her parents have never been this annoyed and aggressive towards her though, but they were absolutely insistent on the marriage arrangement this time. Maybe it’s someone with loads of money, influence and power, so they don’t want to aggravate the affluent family. Dria wonders where the hell they are going as they get further and further out into the remote countryside.

A little chill invades her body the nearer they get to this place, Dria wonders why.

She shifts in the back of her parents car as they drive on a long winding country road that has zero turn offs or street lights on it. She almost wonders if they are lost as it’s actually out in the middle of nowhere.

A few private property signs were spotted by her along the way too. And others were warning about trespassing, with a warning saying that there are security, electric fences and guard dogs in the area. It’s very isolated here. Her parents seem to know where they are going though and don’t seem that worried about the situation.

As soon as she sees lights in the distance she exhales as she finally sees some signs of life. It’s gotten so late that they are surely staying in this village for the night. The place looks like it might be a gated village, because as they get nearer she sees a huge steel gate and a very high fence with razor wire on the top that seems to be placed around the whole village. It’s blocking anyone from getting into the area without going through the security gate. There are also cameras.

The security guards all surrounded the car and made her father roll down all of the car windows. One guard with narrowed cat shaped eyes looks through the windows at all of them and a sinister smirk grows on his face as he finally looks at her.

She shifts as he looks at her for about a minute before moving away. Dria shivers as his eyes look wrong, they seem to be black and shining with a disturbing malevolence in the dark of the night. This whole situation seems weird and the over the top security is strange.

“Let the chosen one and her parents in, I’m sure the Master will be overjoyed to hear that she is finally here”

The creepy man finally speaks as someone else mutters at him.

“Okay Yoongi, open the gates Sungmin”

Whoever mutters at him suddenly commands someone with a harsh voice, sounding a little off.

The gates open and Dria is suddenly not so smug anymore, she knows that something feels seriously off about this whole place and something is wrong with those creepy guards. That guard's whole demeanour was exuding sinister intentions and her body is now drenched in anxiety.

When the car stops, Dria’s father gets out and so does her mother, the place they have stopped at is a huge mansion. Dria can’t help but huff out some annoyed air as her father opens her door for her, forcing her to get out of the vehicle and greet them.

A couple is standing there waiting for them and their grins look insincere, almost like they are fake and saccharine. But there is a kind of ominous darkness in both of their eyes and it’s actually disturbing. Dria gets insane chills again but this time it’s from a shadow she notices staring at her, they are standing in a window on the second floor.

“Welcome! We are so happy to welcome you to our home! I’m Eunji his mother”

The lady exclaims with an overjoyed but jittery expression on her face, she notes that she’s not that old, maybe late thirties, early forties maximum.

“Ahh yes, hello dear! I’m Jungmin. Hmm, I can see why my son is so enamoured with you. He will be here first thing in the morning to meet you”

The older man adds with amused eyes, he’s at least fifty, maybe fifty five or sixty.

He’s definitely the ladies husband as his hand is now around her waist. There is a possessive air to the man's movements around his wife.

She can’t help but latch onto that man’s comment though, wondering if she had already met his son and she doesn’t realise it. But does that mean his son already knows her and chose her specifically? That got her thinking about who he could possibly be.

“Hello Jungmin, we are extremely glad to be here. I’m absolutely certain our daughter will love your son. Won’t you, Dria”

Her father says in a threatening tone as he glares at Dria when he mentions her name.

“She won’t let you down, she’s going to behave. Aren’t you, my daughter?”

Her mother now informs them adding another layer of threat towards Dria with her pronounced words. She just nods with an uncomfortable smile that she’s sure looks like a grimace.

She’s now wondering just who these people are for her parents to be extra guarded and throwing passive aggressive threats towards her. They usually just complain and tell her to at least try to get on with her potential husband, but this time they are both directing thinly veiled threats at her.

They were always exasperated and would sometimes threaten to cut her off from her inheritance, but they never did.

Dria realises that this time is different, something about this entire situation is.

This worries her as they have never actually made her think they were serious about their threats before now.

As they all sit down to late supper, Dria can’t help but notice all of the staff’s stares when they notice her. They look like they are all assessing her, like they are checking her for something. Some smirk at her and others have a ghoulish smile on their face.

The creepy man called Hoseok that shows them to their rooms gives her a grin so wide that it actually looks menacing. And he called her Mistress, which was extremely weird.

Dria is currently deciding that she’s going to create havoc, she has to sabotage this whole thing. The whole vibe is creepy and shady.

Hoseok tells her that the shower has a mix of natural herbs in the water that come out first and they are extremely good for her skin. She frowns but nods at him anyway, still stuck in her own thoughts about the weird situation she now finds herself in.

Then he looks almost aggravated with himself after he exclaimed in a manic glee that the young Master will be meeting her tomorrow. It’s like he was trying to restrain his unadulterated glee a little and failed to contain himself. But he carries on, clearing his throat as he completes the task regardless and shows her all the toiletries in the cupboard.

Maybe this mysterious young Master has been waiting ages for a wife and he finally thinks he will be successful. She thinks that the young Master could be the most handsome man on Earth, but she’s not going to stay in this spine-chilling place. Everything here is wrong, something is amiss.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jungkook has been thoroughly cleansed in special herbs in the tub this morning and was given the fertility concoction.

He’s annoyed that he can’t smoke or drink at the moment but he has to do it.

If he wants the ritual to go well.

He will be taking the stamina potion just before the ritual too, he doesn’t need an aphrodisiac for her though as she gets him hard with just one glance. Although he will shower one more time after eating, it’s needed to cleanse himself of earthly toxins.

His chosen one was given a fertility concoction in a desert last night and will be given an aphrodisiac just before the ritual in her ceremonial wine. The shower has been rigged to shower her in cleansing herbs too, Hoseok had told her to not worry and that it’s a special blend for good skin. So she will be told to cleanse again after dinner, due to the wine and food in her system.

Jungkook is sitting in his room talking to Yoongi who tells him that his chosen one is indeed stunning and is so much better than the sacrifice. He comments that she has superior breeding hips and looks better than skinny no ass Minji.

Yoongi tells him that more of his blood was mixed in with the Mistresses orange juice and Hoseok told him that he took more of Dria’s blood in her sleep.

Handing it over to Jungkook who gives him a twisted grin and drinks it immediately with a debauched groan. He licks his lips like it tastes delicious.

“What time is it, Jimin?”

Jungkook sternly asks him and he comments that it’s almost five pm and dinner will start very soon.

“Hmm, can’t wait to see the look on her face when she realises it’s me and that she’s not going anywhere”

Jungkook chuckles evilly as he gets Taehyung to do his cufflinks.

“She’s been such a bitch to me, but it got me so hard when she yanked my hair and spat on my face, fuck! I’m going to make her pay later on when she’s screaming with my cock up her tight ass”

Jungkook growls out lewdly as his eyes flash showing his unholy visage for a second before flashing back to normal.

Everyone around him starts cruelly laughing at his obsessions predicament.

“Let’s go, Master. It’s time”

Jimin’s malicious grin grows on his face.

“Yes, let’s”

Jungkook replies as a wicked smirk paints itself on his handsome face.

As soon as the men get to the huge dining room they notice all of the servants standing around as Jungkook’s personal underlings all accompanied him. Dria is sitting there looking so damn sexy, Jungkook thinks as she looks up at the sudden activity. Her face is a masterpiece as she pales at who just walked into the room.

“Mother, Father, Mr and Mrs Finch, Dria”

Jungkook greets everyone and accentuates her name like he wants to devour her.

He sits down next to Dria and his underlings stand behind him, all with matching ghoulish grins. She notices Jimin and Taehyung behind him with that man Yoongi from the gate and Hoseok from earlier.

“Nice to see you again, Jungkook”

Her father smiles at him with a huge smile and Dria is clearly having a meltdown in her head as she stares at Jungkook who now has piercings and tattoos on show. He looks totally different from his college appearance and Dria is shaken for all of about thirty seconds before she just stands up to leave, feeling mortified.

“Sit the fuck down, Dria”

Jungkook abruptly barks, snapping his fingers at her and she sits down with a look of betrayal at her own body’s failure to move and disobey. It feels like she’s not in control of her actions or mind at all.

“Good girl, be quiet and listen to me. So you are marrying me tonight whether you like it or not. Your parents have already done a deal with my father. They get riches and success, and I get you. They can’t back down or my father gets their souls. You aren’t going to sabotage this one, Dria. It doesn’t matter what you do to me, you are mine. You drank my blood so you can’t disobey me, darling”

Jungkook’s eyes completely turn red as he sends her a sinister grin and she just stares at him in shock, unable to move.

“So let’s eat dinner and then we can get ready for the ritual ceremony”

Jungkook commands and his parents and hers all nod with nervous grins. She has a feeling that he is in charge and everyone is a bit scared of him.

Her parents smile at him, tucking in to their meal and they act like he didn’t just say that to her. Dria is looking at them all now with a look of disbelief and betrayal as she realises that his mother looks like she is definitely Jungkook’s mother but the father, not so much.

And why the hell are Jungkook’s eyes flashing a blood red colour?

Her thoughts are racing, what does he mean that he will take their souls?

She’s willing her body to refuse and run, but it’s like she’s a puppet and can’t do anything else but behave.

Jungkook also looks totally different and his demeanour has completely changed.

He was always a shy quiet boy at college and she’s wholly regretting ever bullying him. Although he acted weirdly on Friday.

Dria couldn’t admit to herself that he did something to her body, she wanted to dominate the shy him, make him get on his knees and she couldn’t handle that thought so she bullied him.

He’s glaring at her like he wants to actually eat her and it’s like he can read her mind because a shit eating grin climbs on his face. Dria flushes looking back down to her food and acting like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted.

A flash of her on her knees with Jungkook sadistically smashing his hips against her face and tugging harshly at her hair, assaults her brain like a 3D headset playing in front of her eyes.

“You are my little whore now and I’m gonna do whatever I want to you. My slutty little wife. Choke on my cock, Dria”

Jungkook in the visual growls sounding feral as he goes faster making her gag and choke on his massive cock.

The vision disappears and Dria is gripping the table with damp panties wondering what just happened. Jungkook smirks cruelly at her, slowly licking his fork like he’s trying to seduce her with his inhumanly long tongue. How the fuck did he just do that to me? Dria thinks, her mind is reeling.

Her mind gets invaded again and this time she’s fucking Jungkook with a strap on and yanking at his hair.

“Th-This is what you want, right Mommy? Yes fuck me, Mommy! Ahhh”

Jungkook whines pathetically as Dria savagely fucks into him from behind.

Dria’s pulse quickens and the vision changes to him riding her strap on as she tugs at his leaking cock.

“Yes puppy, cum for Mommy”

Dria moans as he whimpers cumming all over her tits.

The vision disappears again and Dria realises that Jungkook is fucking with her head somehow, as he winks at her with a malicious grin. Dria is almost panting from the unholy visions that invade her mind and all she wants to do is run from the table and get as far away from here as possible. Dria gulps down the red wine and as soon as she finishes it she knows that it was a huge mistake as Jungkook’s eyes flash at her with a villainous expression.

“Is everyone finished? Let’s get the paperwork signed, It’s time to get ready for the festivities”

Hoseok suddenly declares to everyone at the table who nodded.

He produces a piece of paper making Jungkook’s father sign something, then so does Dria’s father. Then Jungkook signs it, giving it back to Hoseok, who brings it to her telling her to sign here.

It’s a marriage certificate and Dria pauses just staring at it in shock before looking up at Jungkook.

“Sign it darling, be a good girl now”

Jungkook commands in a threatening sickly sweet voice, clicking his fingers.

She can’t stop herself as she signs her name and hands over the pen to Hoseok. Dria’s heart is beating so damn fast and she doesn’t know what to do.

Everyone starts getting up to leave and Jungkook chuckles looking at her.

“Oh, go get ready for me, my darling wife. Don’t be late, you have thirty minutes. Hoseok, Jimin help her and make sure she behaves”

Jungkook commands mockingly, clicking his fingers again making her stand up and get escorted by Hoseok and Jimin.

Dria can do nothing but obey as nothing she does can break the commands he gives every time he clicks his fingers.

They tell her she has to shower one more time, so she does. As she gets dressed into the red cape with a hood that she was given, she huffs out an annoyed air. She had baulked earlier at Hoseok when he had told her what she is supposed to wear for the ceremony, trying to argue with him.

How can she wear nothing else but a hooded cape? But Jimin had threatened her, saying he can always get Jungkook to come here and force her to get dressed in front of them all. Of course she obeyed after that as she’s not dressing in front of all of his minions.

As she stands in front of the bathroom mirror another vision invades her mind and it’s so strong this time that it knocks her for six.

“Fuck, yes my pretty little slut. Tight little cunt is taking my whole hand, such a fucking whore for your husband, Dria. Mine! You are now mine forever!”

Jungkook sinfully groans as he stares down at the debauched view.

Dria’s legs are shaking as she clings to the edge of the sink, she can feel every single harsh thrust of his hand and a warmth starts to flow straight to her core.

She can’t believe that these scenes are now turning her on so badly that she’s struggling to stand, she whimpers loudly before the vision disappears.

Dria is literally panting as she splashed water on her face, she wasn’t allowed to wear makeup or anything else like perfume either. So she has a bare face right now. Jimin had told her that earthly things will corrupt her detoxification, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. So she just brushes her hair and puts the crimson cape on, tying the ribbon up and feeling really exposed, as the cape is all that covers her nakedness.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jimin and Hoseok now have black capes on as they escort her to a huge ballroom that has part of the ceiling dome open showing the blood moon. The place has red candles everywhere and a ton of people are standing around wearing black capes. Their heads all creepily turn around to look at her at the same time as they escort her to Jungkook who has on a black cape with a weird symbol in gold on the back of it.

Jungkook’s father Jungmin is standing there wearing a long black gown too with the same weird symbol on it. Dria’s parents also have on the black robes too and so does Jungkook’s mother who also has the symbol on hers.

“We are here today for Jungkook’s unholy union with his chosen tonight on this auspicious blood moon. First we will send our worship to our father with hopes that he will appear and bless the union of his son and his chosen one”

Jungmin exclaims in a loud commanding voice that echoes around the room.

Dria frowns as that means Jungmin is not his father, but she’s confused about him hoping that his real father appears, as that’s weird. She watches as everyone bends their heads and starts chanting in a strange language she doesn’t know.

She pales when a man with full black eyes with black sclera brings a terrified girl into the room. Dria pales when she recognizes her from college, she is called Minji and she’s naked with bloody harsh symbols cut everywhere on her body. Her arms and legs are tied up and she is sobbing behind a gag on her mouth.

Dria is definitely starting to wonder if this is a dodgy cult and she’s now even more worried about who they worship. She jolts as she abruptly realises that there is a whole ass altar with blood, a live snake, an upside down pentagram, a wet bloody heart, a skull, an athame, chalices, loads of different oils and minerals, pieces of wood and many other things.

Are they a satanic cult?

Her parents just stand by the altar like it’s perfectly normal and this whole thing is absolutely fine. Are her parents actually in this cult? Dria’s thoughts are reeling as she can’t believe that her parents are cultists.

She is transfixed by Jungmin who is putting some herbs and ingredients in a poultice and grinding it. Dria almost gags when she notices him cutting a slither of flesh from the heart adding it to the mix.

After that he places the whole macabre concoction into the golden chalice. When Jungkook pulls her nearer to him and grabs her hand she goes to resist, but he’s whispering a threat in her ear.

“Be a good wife for me now, behave and do everything you are told. You are mine now and you are going to be mine forever, my wife. Even in hell if we die, there is no getting away from me Dria, not ever. I’m gonna fuck you for eternity”

Jungkook’s gleeful grin is what she notices, then the fierce glow of his full blood red eyes, then the click of his fingers that snap the poor girl back to being fully controlled.

Everything goes dead silent as the poor woman gets tied upside down on a damn inverted cross, her muffled screams and protests are the only things heard as they echo across the vast hall.

Dria’s can only stand dead still and witness the gruesome blood curdling scene. No one else bats an eyelid and they all just watch on with sinister intentions.

Jungmin now moves towards the poor woman with an athame in hand and the gold chalice with the bloodcurdling mix of ingredients in it. Dria can hear her heart beating so loudly in her ears now.

He starts to speak in a harsh guttural tone as he speaks the unknown language again. Every sentence he speaks gets creepily repeated by everyone in the room.

Dria is just watching on in horror, until he gruesomely slits the girl's neck and holds the chalice underneath to catch the blood. Her macabre gurgling noises mixed with screaming are horrific and Dria tries to close her eyes.

“Watch everything darling, don’t you dare look away my wife”

Jungkook husks in her ear and snaps his fingers at her. Dria can only watch as everyone starts chanting again and poor Minji finally goes limp.

“We are up next my wife, do as you are told or I will punish you, Dria. You are only to drink from the chalice and say I obey and give myself to my husband when asked to talk”

Jungkook groans loudly in her ear, licks at it and pulls away looking down at her giving her a huge terrifying grin.

Jungmin walks towards the couple and offers them the chalice after chanting something over it. Jungkook drinks from it first, then it’s offered to Dria who can do nothing but drink from it feeling sickened.

Her stomach clenches but it’s like she’s watching everything through someone else’s eyes. This whole scenario makes her feel like she’s on some sort of psychedelic drug and is having a bad trip.

“Talk now darling”

Jungkook coos at her in a mocking tone and she repeats the words that he told her to say.

“Good girl”

He rasps, winks and gives her a chilling smirk, his eyes glint like he’s having impure thoughts about her.

“I Jungkook, ask for my father to bless our unholy union and grant me his power tonight to seal my union with my chosen forever. Father, I beg you to preside over this ritual and come forth. Please give your approval of my mate”

Jungkook’s whole eyes are red and glowing, his animalistic voice sends a spine chilling shudder right up Dria’s back. His hand is firm as he holds her hand to keep her by his side.

Jungmin starts to look ominous and a dark cloud gathers around him, his eyes start glowing and they can all see that he now has glowing golden eyes. His whole body is covered in an unnatural swirling darkness, there is a cold unholy chill in the air now too and the horrid smell of sulphur and fire.

It’s like he’s grown in stature as the air crackles dangerously around him, everyone gasps and suddenly drops to their knees like they are kowtowing.

Jungkook drags Dria to her knees and she’s actually glad as her knees already felt like they were going to buckle in terror.

“My son, rise”

A hair-raising voice booms around the room and Jungkook rises, pulling up Dria with him.

“So proud of you son, you have sent so much power to me in my name. Not long now, your son will bring about a new age. I bless your unholy union. Disrobe”

He tells him in a formidable unearthly voice.

Jungkook removes his robe letting it fall to the floor and she now sees that he’s also naked under that robe and is covered in tattoos, he has tattooed some strange symbols on his torso too.

Jungkook turns pulling her hood back, then he unties the ribbon on Dria’s robe, the blood red robe falls and drops to the marbled floor.

She flushes but she can’t do anything but obey Jungkook and she’s now absolutely tormented by what Jungmin looks like right now too, as his unearthly appearance is definitely not human.

Jungkook smirks wickedly at her as his crimson orbs slowly roamed down her voluptuous body with an obvious lustful intent. His eyes connect to hers. The fiendish Jungmin moves forward whilst swirling his dark smoke-covered finger in the blood whilst chanting. The vile mixture turns black and hisses ominously.

He then paints a symbol on both of their torso’s, on their breast bones, chanting words that sound malevolent and bestial. His wife gently takes the chalice from him like she’s used to it by now.

His palm goes to Jungkook’s forehead then Dria’s at the same time, she feels a dark sinister corruption flow through her and a large tattooed symbol appears on their chests where the painted concoction from the chalice once was.

She glances at Jungkook’s to see he now has the same mark as hers on his breastbone too. But Dria jolts as she suddenly realises that Jungkook now looks so much bigger, taller, buffer and has these thin black veins all over his body as Dria’s eyes roam over him in shock. The terrified girl thinks about how damn beautiful he is, if only he wasn’t such a crazy psycho.

Red crimson horns have appeared on his head and matching vermillion wings are now visible on his broad back. His black hair is longer, much longer.

When he grins evilly at the terrified shock in her eyes, she now notices his sharp canines too. A long forked tongue lewdly licks across his pierced lips like he’s about to eat something delicious.

Her first thought is ‘oh shit, he’s a fucking demon isn’t he?’ Her mind is in a state. The thoughts are muddled and racing as her whole being screams at her to run. The thing is. . . she can’t as her feet are literally plastered to the stone marble floor.

“Time for the first mating under the blood moon, Son. Take your chosen mate for all your loyal followers to see, complete the unholy union and seal the bond to make her your mate forever”

Jungmin tells Jungkook in a hair raising, proud sounding growl and Dria realises that it’s one hundred percent not Jungmin controlling that body anymore.

But thinking about who or what is possessing Jungmin’s body right now, is something she just can’t comprehend.

She’s too terrified of being killed right now, so she tries to make sure that she just survives the night. Dria tries to ignore the fact that he just told Jungkook to take her in front of his followers.

Jungkook immediately picks up Dria who lets out a little yelp, he gives her a huge disturbing grin as he places her naked body on the stone altar. He looks so much bigger than before as he looms over her at the end of the stone altar and spreads her legs with a loud cuss.

Jungkook doesn’t wait as he impatiently tugs at his huge thick length and rubs his tip against her soaked folds, slamming in her with a voracious guttural growl making her arch her back.

Dria feels like she’s been impaled by something that’s way bigger than any normal human dick, and it’s pushing her way past her limits making her cry out in pain.

Her mind just can’t compute what’s happening to her right now and she’s utterly disturbed that she feels more turned on right now than she has ever felt before. Dria thinks that Jungkook looks like he’s at peace after he bottoms out inside her with a content sigh, his eyes closed. Before opening his crimson eyes and giving her some serious eye contact that makes her squirm.

“That’s it my wife, taking all of my demon cock like a good girl should”

Jungkook sinisterly smirks at her. His predatory eyes fiercely glow as they glint with infatuation, showing hunger mixed with an intense craving. So he is a demon, Dria says in her head.

The blood moon mocks her as it turns a darker blood red, like an ominous omen.

Everyone is now chanting again and the foreboding swirling silhouette of Jungmin is chanting again and it sounds beastial and hair raising making her shiver.

Jungkook’s hands are roughly gripping her thighs as he pounds into her with a lewd groan.

Dria is crying out in both pain and pleasure at every single slap of his skin against hers. All she can do is moan and writhe, she can’t protest or stop him.

Her ample chest is bouncing and her mouth is parted as she stares up at Jungkook who is devouring the scene with his ravenous red fiery orbs.

His tattooed hand roughly palms her breasts and spitefully pulls at her nipple making her squeeze around his huge girth. Jungkook’s smirk is both unnerving and sexy at the same time as he tongues at his piercings on his lip.

“So fucking tight around me, my wife”

He chuckles breathlessly as he thumbs Dria’s clit making her moan out and writhe underneath him.

“Such a fucking slut for my cock, darling. Pussy is squeezing my length so well”

Jungkook mocks her, spearing her harder with a harsh growl.

He leans over her sucking and biting at her tender nipples before sucking harsh marks and biting roughly all over her torso. Jungkook savagely bites down around her areola, his canines penetrating her tender abused skin. He moans perversely around it, sucking and licking at the pooling blood.

She is horrified to like it and as his sharp teeth pierced her skin she abruptly falls into a full blown orgasm, clenching intensely around him and wailing.

Jungkook’s red orbs look up at her with a smug satisfaction on his face.

Jungkook spitefully grabs her around the mouth digging his vicious black fingernails into her skin. Forcing her to open it as he leans over her gathering a huge glob of bloody spit before letting it drop straight into her mouth.

“Swallow it, Darling. Only fair you taste my spit when I so greedily licked yours from my lips the other day. Hmmm, you swallowed it, dirty girl”

Jungkook maniacally grins down at her like a deviant, his eyes deviously glinting at her. Dria mewls loudly and lewdly flutters around him as he fucks her through her oversensitivity.

“That’s it, milk my cock my little whore. I knew you were the right one, my chosen”

Jungkook filthily moans and stands back up impaling her faster with an animalistic groan. His large tattooed hand goes to Dria’s neck, cruelly choking her, she feels dizzy and squirms on his demonic length.

“Yes, you are so fucking snug for me, such a tiny little pussy, my wife”

He hisses, sadistically thumbing at her sensitive clit again.

Her breathless raspy cries are turning Jungkook on as he ruthlessly strums his thumb against her nub. His bulbous tip assaulted her g spot with every single rough buck of his hips. Jungkook’s depraved hand tightens violently around her neck when she grips tighter around his cock. Her whines and whimpers sound raspy as poor Dria nears her second orgasm.

“Hmm yes, look at you creaming all over my big cock like a messy baby. Saturating me with your mouth-watering juices, looks so delicious. Can’t wait to make you squirt down my throat”

Jungkook vulgarly growls, staring down at where they join with a carnal intensity, devouring the scene with his carnivorous vermillion red orbs.

Her senses are all automatically heightened and she can now hear and feel exactly what he’s talking about.

The lewd sloppy suction noises are now deafening to Dria’s ears, every single time his length slams into her again, stretching her poor abused pussy out.

Dria can definitely feel how sticky it is around the base of Jungkook’s shaft and how her creamy juices are overflowing down her taint to drench his balls.

“Come on, give it to me, my wife. Drench my dick again with your slutty juices. I’m gonna breed you so well, fuck a son into you. Pump you so full, all night long until all you can feel is my cum. You are gonna be so swollen with my seed, my perfect mate”

Jungkook growls sinfully, as pathetic little whimpers escape her lips.

Dria feels delirious as black dots invade her vision from his unrelenting hand.

She feels horrified by how horny and ravenous she feels, especially when she starts to orgasm so intensely that she is sobbing. As soon as his merciless grip around her bruised neck loosens she squirts all over him.

“Fuck yes, that’s right cream my cock! So filthy, shit. Squirt all over me, my wife. Hmm your hot cunt feels exquisite”

Jungkook groans blissfully, feeling addicted to the feeling of her pulsing around his girth as he twitches inside her, hardening like steel as his balls tightened.

His eager hand goes to her hair, yanking it back to expose her pretty neck.

Leaning in he animalistically growls and buries his sharp fangs into her soft skin, right on her erogenous zone.

A muffled rough moan sounds out as she descends into another smaller orgasm, squeezing tightly around him.

Jungkook tugs sadistically on her hair, stinging her scalp and sucking harshly on her neck, tugging on her neck with his teeth as he savagely presses his teeth further into her sore neck.

Dria raked her nails across his broad shoulders as she cried out grinding up against him trying to ride her orgasm out. Dria has forgotten exactly what position she is in right now, as Jungkook’s followers all watch on in awe.

His length pulses and unloads into her with a vicious feral slam as he bottoms out stuttering his hips. Painting her cervix with his large creamy load, and a satiated whine vibrating on her tender skin.

Dria can feel the harsh breathing of his nose against her skin as his cum keeps pumping inside her. She’s panting hard underneath him as he pulls his canines from her skin and licks at it a few times before standing back up.

The look on Jungkook’s face is one of absolute triumph as he palms her skin like it’s precious. His possessive infatuation still shines brightly in his crimson eyes, as he shamelessly devours her marked up bare skin.

“Tis done my son, you are mated”

The dark malevolent Jungmin declares as he walks over, placing his palm over Dria’s womb and chanting again. She shudders because his touch is like a sinister malevolent nightmare, filled with a hellish deadly chill as his shadowy palm presses against her skin.

“It will be so, a son shall be born. He will be very powerful and magnificently strong, worthy of Lucifer's grandson. I can see it now”

He unnervingly chants again with those scary menacing gold orbs looking down at the small of her stomach. Dria looks from his hand to Jungmin’s face and the grin he flashes her is gruesome as he sees the realisation in her shocked eyes.

“Welcome to the family Dria, can’t wait for my grandson to be born to bring about the demonic prophecy. Well done my son, your mate is clearly perfect for you”

Then Jungmin visibly sags looking tired and way less formidable than he just did. He looks much smaller in stature too.

Jungkook’s hard length is still snugly seated inside her and it doesn’t look like he will pull out of her yet or go soft. His bloody teeth show as he grins down at her with a sadistic gratification.

“You are mine forever now, you aren’t ever going anywhere. Hmm you are so exquisite, my little wife”

He groans possessively, gently palming her womb as he thrusts against her.

“Such a good wife giving me a son, I knew it would be you from the moment I first met you. My precious mate, hmm I feel so horny I could go again. You make me so fucking hard!”

Jungkook whines, lewdly twitching inside her already, making Dria whimper.

She is interrupted by all of the hooded followers walking up, giving her blessings and touching her womb area in such a way that they act like she’s utterly precious.

Dria narrows her eyes at her parents who look absolutely overjoyed by this development, their greedy expressions are obvious as they touch their daughter and give her their satanic blessings. Dria feels utterly betrayed but she’s still being controlled by Jungkook who just stays seated inside her, staring down at her with a wide menacing smile and a twisted besotted expression.

“Do you think our master will let her join the orgy afterwards? I would love to feel her. Her tits are fantastic”

A voice says a little too loudly and Jungkook’s expression now looks utterly murderous, a dark red cloud of smoke bleeds from him and his hand conjures a blue and red swirling ball of fire.

The air crackles and a harsh air blows through the whole hall and it darkens, dark shadows of monsters start to bleed out of the walls groaning.

“Who just fucking lusted after my mate and so fucking openly?”

Jungkook’s harsh guttural voice booms around the room, he’s absolutely furious.

Everyone panics and immediately drops to the floor begging for their lives.

“I said who was it? SHOW YOURSELF! NOW!! I will fucking decimate all of you if don’t tell me who it was!”

Jungkook roars out menacingly, his wings are stretched out behind him and Dria can’t help but lust after his dark but magnificent aura.

She realises that this form turns her on, he looks down at her giving her a smug knowing look and glances back down at the people with a look of disgust. Some poor people are shaking and one has clearly peed themselves.

“YOU! Do you forget I can read your minds? If you had openly admitted to it I may have shown you mercy. Get the fuck up now, do you think you can insult me and talk about MY MATE!! I WILL FUCKING EVISERATE YOU!!”

Jungkook savagely growls, sounding and looking utterly terrifying as his voice booms around the room.

The older man stands up visibly shivering with a look of absolute terror.

The ball of fire shoots at the man burning him to dust immediately and a few gasps and cries of fear are heard.

Another is abruptly conjured.

“NO ONE IS TOUCHING MY MATE, HOW DARE YOU THINK YOU CAN COVET MY WIFE!! SHE IS MINE! Now the rest of you get here and finish your unholy blessings or I’m punishing the fucking lot of you!”

He possessively growled, his voice thundering at everyone, Jungkook looked pissed right off by the whole incident.

Jungkook looks back down at Dria and his monstrous demeanour calms down immediately and the shadows disappear, it lightens up again and the ball of hellfire he conjured gets snuffed out.

Jungkook picks Dria up after the rest of the satanic blessings, telling everyone with a maniacal laugh that he’s going to his bedchamber to play with his pretty wife. She has to give it to him, he’s still seated inside her and carrying her like a baby, like she weighs nothing at all.

The earlier incident was forgotten as everyone congratulated him with smiles.

No one says anything or bats an eyelid, in fact they are all starting to disrobe like they are getting ready for an orgy, this must be a common occurrence. There are now many who now look like demons, mixed in with the satanic cult followers, including all of Jungkook’s friends, all of them are different types of demons.

The last thing she sees are two of Jungkook’s friends fucking her mother and very sadistically as she wails. And someone she doesn’t know is getting her father to suck them off as another smashes his hips against her fathers ass cheeks. This was a sight she never wished to see, not in any lifetime.

Dria feels like she has no one who could help her now as her parents are clearly in this cult and they will help Jungkook for the riches and fame. And all at the expense of their daughter, they chose riches. If there are demons, are there no angels here on Earth?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dria shudders as she realises that this is it, she’s married to Jungkook legally and spiritually. There is no going back, he’s never letting her go, she knows this deep down inside her darkening soul.

She can also feel the satanic corruption taking root in her body and she can’t fight it. It’s way too strong as it slowly consumes her light and replaces it with utter darkness. Jungkook’s mark on her seems to be pulsing.

The power of her child inside the tiny egg is already pulsing through her and the sheer force of malevolence he is emitting is dizzying and frightening. The sperm must have only just joined an egg yet his power is taking root in her soul already. She wonders if demon’s usually get women pregnant so easily or quickly, or is it just the really powerful ones.

“Welcome to your new bedroom, my wife, mother of my child. This is it Dria, you are mine for eternity, so I suggest you accept it. I’m going nowhere either, I’m immortal, the son of Lucifer. You can’t hurt me, kill me or get anyone stronger than me to help either. I’ve looked the same since I turned twenty one. I won’t age anymore. Even if I got killed by some miracle it would only take me a year to get back to you. I would get sent to hell and be able to get strong enough to get out in no time. No one is stronger than me, only my father. So stop with the useless errant nonsense that your mind keeps spewing. And NO, there are no arch angels or seraphim left, well not anymore. We killed them all! Didn’t you realise that this is the age of the demons? Everyone has turned to the side of the sins, everyone is drowning in sin. My father is reigning supreme and we have cults everywhere on Earth, this is just my inner circle”

Jungkook laughs manically as he presses her into the wall and bottoms right out again, fucking her into the surface with a lewd groan.

“Gonna fuck you all day, every single day, my wife. Ugh, so tight and wet! I don’t have to jerk off to sinful thoughts of you ten times a day anymore. I have the real thing. Best pussy ever, looks so good taking my cock. That’s it, fuck! Cry for me my little mate, you won’t be getting any rest at all tonight. You’ve denied me for so long that I’m ravenous for you. Good girl, my perfect little cock slut wife”

Jungkook growls greedily as he drives into her so fast that she’s wailing, his demon tongue licking the tears off her face with a sick, eager satisfaction.

Dria’s tears of realisation and her wails because he’s plunging into her so hard and roughly, are only turning him on more. His hand chokes her, cutting off her oxygen as he rails the hell out of her.

She doesn’t want to give Jungkook his sick satisfaction, but she’s mourning the loss of her whole life. She can only follow his commands as he controls her like a little doll, a plaything. His growls and moans as he fills her up with his seed again are debauched and filled with a feral need for more already.

Dria sinks more and more into the controlling force of her powerful son and his merciless father. The infernal demonic madness corrupts her and the utter despair inside her heart starts to dissipate like a puff of smoke, it happens as soon as her mind starts to accept her iniquitous husband. He’s the fiendish son of the devil, there is no fighting how strong he seems and their son is a tiny brand new embryo and he’s controlling her thoughts already.

Jungkook grins sinisterly, forcing her to sit on his face, moving her like a puppet with telekinesis. Telling her to squirt down his throat like a good little whore wife, seemingly not caring that she has his cum dripping from her entrance. Her new husband is a debauched demon with sinful tendencies and wicked intentions glinting in his eyes.

Dria just moans out yes Master as she immediately complies to his demand. Instead of her being forced to do it like a remote controlled doll, she does whatever he wants her to.

Jungkook roughly shoves two fingers in her pussy, coating them in both of their juices and removes them, sadistically plunging them into her ass in one go.

She mewls out in pain and pleasure, drowning in the hedonistic sin. She knows that there is no fighting against Jungkook, it’s hopeless.

And the perverse, unholy darkness that surrounds and fills them both starts to feel a little too good to Dria. It feels like a sinful glove, like the greedy need for more, unadulterated gluttony to consume more of her mate's body, an unholy ravenous lust that builds in her and every other sin you can think of is gripping her soul hard. Pride that she has such a powerful mate who everyone is scared of and envy for anyone who has felt him like this. This ignites some wrathful thoughts.

“That’s it baby, give yourself to your husband, to your soulmate. Give in and let me devour you for all eternity. Once you become my mate you slowly become a demon too, let the darkness take you, my pretty pet. Give in to the sinful temptation, drown in it darling. Accept me, don’t make me control you forever my wife. I want you to accept that you will always be mine, my desire, my everything, my obsession, my possession, my whole world, mine! I knew you’d be mine the second I laid my eyes on you, I had to have you. No one else has ever had my cock in their pussy, only you my mate. Those whores were only good to suck my dick, nothing else. Only you deserved to have my cock, baby. I’d only let you fuck me up the ass with a strap on. You taste so fucking delicious, damn! I’m gonna penetrate you with my tongue, my tantalising tasty slut!”

Jungkook indecently groans as he pumps his fingers into her puckered hole, abruptly penetrating her with his thick long forked tongue.

As Dria grinds her hips to ride his long demonic tongue, something abruptly snaps in her, the chill of submission suddenly invades her mind and she completely gives in to her husband, Jungkook. To corruption.

It grasps around her soul caressing it with its depraved malevolence, she lets it in gasping from the force of it. She always wanted him and now she has to stop kidding herself, she has him all to herself forever. Jungkook is now hers.

Jungkook can read her mind and is extremely pleased, his expression is disturbing as his predatory, obsessive, blood red orbs glint with a fervent ravening glare up at her.

They say “Say you are MINE!”

‘Hmmm yes, I can now talk to you telepathically, good girl for submitting to me. I want you to squirt all over my face, my love. Soak me in your filthy juices. I’m yours and you are mine, always. Say you are mine baby, that I’m yours’

Jungkook lewdly growls inside her head as he can now talk to her privately. Dria moans out desperately, she’s dazed like she’s drowning in delicious syrupy lust and it’s so thick and seductive.

Jungkook can see her eyes start to blacken and magnificent dark wings erupt from her back, her pretty horns grow and he knows he has her. Being blessed by Lucifer and marked by Lucifer as his official family, along with being marked and mated by Jungkook, Lucifer’s son. And now bearing a strong demonic child were all too much for her to ever fight the darkness.

Her soul has fallen to darkness and she will live forever with him drowning in sin.

He digs his nails into her ass cutting into her plump flesh and his canines savagely bite onto her mound knowing that she will heal no matter what he throws at her.

“Yes, yes! Ahh Jungkook, mine! Hmm, yes my mate, yours for infinity. I’m yours Jungkook”

Dria drowns as she lets the darkness pulse through her and accepts that he’s hers too.

She feels exquisite pain and mind blowing pleasure, as he laps at her bloody pussy and thrusts another finger into her ass making it three. The primal moan she emits is loud and makes him groan in an animalistic manner.

“That’s it my wife, show me how much of a queen you are. Show me how much you really want me, drown me in your unholy slutty juices. Ride my face like it’s your throne, fuck my tongue baby. I’m gonna claim your ass after. Then you can claim mine after I claim that pretty little mouth of yours”

Jungkook savagely growls, penetrating her with his long demonic tongue again.

“You're now mine, my king”

Dria wickedly growls looking down at him, his eyes show amusement when she yanks at his raven coloured hair lewdly moaning as she grinds on him. She can feel how consumed he is with her, how much he worships her and the feeling is completely voracious and ravenously possessive.

He feels her emotions and knows that her soul is completely demonic, but he can feel the same adoration, devotion, obsession and possession for him that he feels for her. Demons can love but they love so fiercely that the feelings are stronger. More power is behind it, they love with everything they have.

Jungkook finally feels complete and he can’t wait for their son to bring about hell on earth like he was always supposed to. For him to release Lucifer and fully release all of the seven deadly sins powers. All of his minions are the sins and he’s the epitome of the sins. He is the sin of pride which means that he incites them all.

People get selfish when prideful, they get egocentric and they encourage other sins. Like thinking they can get as many women as they want, inciting lust. Others are too prideful telling everyone that they are the best at something inviting envy or maybe that they have something better than them, inviting greed from others as they want that too. Gluttonously claiming they can eat or drink more than someone else, it’s all ego and pride. Even wrath is born out of pride, their pride causes an argument and then a fight. Others are lazy and have pride in the fact that they are eating and sleeping their time away.

The others Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, Namjoon, Jin and Hoseok are the other sins. Hoseok is envy, Namjoon is wrath, Yoongi is sloth, Jin is gluttony, Jimin is greed and Taehyung is lust. They are all waiting patiently for their real powers, Jungkook only has a small amount of his real power but it is still much stronger than theirs. But they all respect him and his leadership, they were all hand picked by him to become the sins.

His son's very presence on earth is already corrupting it, he can’t wait for these pathetic humans to bow down in terror. The stronger his son gets the stronger he gets and Jungkook will finally get his real strength once the apocalypse begins on Earth. He can’t wait.

His plans are going swimmingly and now he also has his soulmate to devour whenever he wants. . . forever.

MASTERLIST: here

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©️ Bangtans Momma.

Please do not translate, copy, steal or repost my stories as your own, or any part of my story as your own without my consent.

Do not feed any part of my stories into any AI software either.

Sharing the link or re-blogging is perfectly fine of course.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

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forthechubbies · 1 year ago

Text

Our Little Maid

Mafia! BTS x Chubby! Reader

Pssst..You might need this -> Our Little Wife

W! Strong Language, Manhandling, Violence , Obsessiveness , possessiveness, and Toxic marriage

"Clearly, I wasn't clear enough about keeping her locked up!" Namjoon's annoyance rose as the minutes passed in complete quiet. "We have bigger shit to deal with than this." You yelped as Namjoon's huge fingers brutally gripped around your bicep. "Wife." You grimaced at how loosely "Wife" played on his tongue.

All around you, there was gunfire-like movement. You've just awoken to a nightmarish folding situation…You'd rather tell yourself lies about what triggered the shift. You're afraid of them.-"Joonie, you.. You're hurting me." Your tears were deafeningly silent. Your husbands began to scream over your squeaks.

"Yah! If you shatter her arm. "I'm going to bash your brains out!" Zip ties restricted Jungkook's mobility to a chair for the time being. "She's our wife, Dipshit!"

Namjoon smiled in response to his darling husband's hollow threats. "Kooky, you're right. Since you're so anxious to get to work, how about this.. " Namjoon's full lips ghost around the shell of your ear. "She is our wife..so-" The buff man pushed and pressed you til you were at Jungkook's boots. "You'll be employed by us. And act like the lovely maid you were referring to before you so impolitely left without getting our consent. "

"Namjoon-Ah!" He pulled your hair while licking his teeth at your " insincere " tears. "I'm so sorry- oww"

Finally, JungKook shatters the zip ties as his wrists are bleeding. He sees your terrified look and says, "Bunny-"

What a fantastic idea. Hoseok gave you a facial squeeze while beaming. "You're lucky. You're not with Jimin." Your appearance hurt his hobi spirit, yet he was unable to restrain his fury. Because, to quote Mr. Namjoon, "you needed fuckin' need a job!"You were returned to the couch by him. "We searched for you. constantly, to learn that you were living like your loving husbands weren't looking for you."

Enough is enough. You catch them off guard as you struggle against their might and succeed in escaping to your room where you lock yourself in the bathroom.

They forced you to take a breath, but they weren't going to give up. "Baby, We're so sorry." Knocking at the bathroom door, Jin murmured. "Honey-"

You fell to the ground once an abrupt succession of bangs rattled the door. "I'm not-! Bring your little ass out here right away." Namjoon growled. You could hear Jungkook & Jin standing up for you.

What did I wake up to?!

The old landline dropped off the hook during the screaming, and the men in your life suddenly fell silent. they are listening.

You quickly responded with a hushed "Hello."

"Cupcake, The dogs got you down?" Hwasa purred.

"Hwasa?" You firmly held the phone. "I'm terrified,"

"Don't worry, Sweetheart, Mama's on the way." The last sound you hear before the line becomes silent is a roaring engine.

Tell me how you like the sneak part. *Insert Evil Laugher*

#bts smut #bts x chubby reader #chubby reader #poly ot7 #yandere jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x chubby reader #yandere jungkook #bts mafia au #bts mafia fic #ot7 x chubby #ot7 x reader #bts ot7

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navree · 5 months ago

Note

How do you feel about the Nettles situation? 👀

As mentioned, haven't been watching season 2 and only been "keeping up" with it in that I see what the beloved mutuals are posting about it on Tumblr (and the occasional errant tweet from the fucking bad take brigade that is fandom twitter), so from what I know the Nettles situation appears to be that they're cutting her completely and just giving her storyline to Rhaena? Well the way I feel about that is that I think it fucking sucks.

The big thing for me is that the entire rationale for cutting Nettles and just substituting in Rhaena really smacks of racism. They couldn't be assed to do anything for Rhaena, so they just took the only notable Black character they could find and just went "well Nettles is a Black girl, and now we've made Rhaena Black, so it's the same thing" without thinking about the fact that Nettles and Rhaena are two very different characters with very different places in the narrative and aren't just interchangeable, and that it's fucking weird that you immediately got rid of a woman of color because you already had what you deemed to be a sufficient amount. The lack of care shown to Rhaena, specifically the version of Rhaena that the show created, is astounding, and it feels really weird that it's existing for one of the already few Black women in the show (it's something I've already talked about, that the show made changes without then thinking about how things come across in the real world to the viewing public, like Ryan Condal saying that women lie about being victims of gendered violence or making the Velaryons Black but then putting significantly less effort into them than their white counterparts, or not even thinking about how Targaryen-Velaryon intermarriage would make the current Targs visibly mixed).

Giving Rhaena the Nettles plot doesn't make sense for two main reasons, even beyond the BTS decisions that I outlined above: 1) you can give Rhaena an entirely original and interesting plot if you bothered to actually care about her or in giving Black women something to do in your show 2) Nettles has a very specific impact on the story that cannot be removed without drastically changing the history that's been set in stone.

So, point one: an original Rhaena plot. I've said this before, but it's a very critique that book!Rhaena doesn't actually do anything. She just kinda sits around in the Vale having her hair brushed for a year until the war's over. That's a bit boring, I don't mind the show deciding to change up what she does so she actually has shit to, like, do. But let's look at what the show crafted with the Vale plot before they just punted Nettles to Rhaena. On the Vale's side, the show has created a situation where their loyalty to Rhaenyra is extremely flimsy and quite likely to vanish at a moment's notice. Rhaenyra's husband, her major partisan, was infamously shitty to the Vale, he constantly degraded the region in open court, and then murdered one of Jeyne Arryn's vassals in cold blood, his own wife, for no reason. And not only that, he wasn't even remotely punished for it. Daemon's bad reputation in the Vale for what he did to Rhea Royce, and his treatment of her throughout their marriage, and the lack of accountability in that, should absolutely make it so that anyone in the Vale would be leery about allying themselves with him. Then, Jeyne gives Rhaenyra the Vale's allegiance so long as Rhaenyra sends a battle-ready dragon and dragon-rider to protect them in case the Greens decide to invade and force their submission. But after Rhaenyra's envoy promises her that, Rhaenyra backtracks, and instead sends her a teenager and three little kids and a baby dragon and some dragon eggs. That is insulting, that is a violation of the promised agreement that came at the cost of the Vale's allegiance to Rhaenyra, that alliance should absolutely be on the rocks. It makes sense for Jeyne to be as annoyed with the Blacks as she is in the show. And on Rhaena's side, she doesn't have a dragon at all, and she is undervalued in her family as a result. Her father straight up doesn't care about her and neglects her because she doesn't have that symbol of Targaryen supremacy within her, her sister may love her but doesn't value her much as a person (considering Baela is absolutely fine with Rhaena getting sent away to play nursemaid and doesn't even bring up Rhaena being the Lady of Driftmark even tho she has a claim through Laena and Hell, even being Luke's intended), Rhaenyra literally doesn't see her as worthy of keeping around since she just shunts her off not even for her own safety, but so that she can ensure the safety of Rhaenyra's sons. And that's weighing on Rhaena, it's been weighing on her since she was a child, she's only ten when she talks to Laena about how Daemon doesn't love her because she doesn't have a dragon, and those feelings have only grown as she has, and as more indignities have been heaped on her.

So you have Rhaena, who isn't really valued by the people around her or considered necessary for the war effort, in an area where the emotions are ripe for turning against Rhaenyra and maybe even siding with the Greens. So why not have Rhaena change it? Instead of having the Vale stay loyal for no reason in spite of their very legitimate issues, have Rhaena forge a relationship with Jeyne. Have them get a personal connection to get Jeyne more invested in the Blacks' victory. Have Rhaena work essentially in administration, use her connection to the parties on Dragonstone to enact more firm promises for the Vale, in writing. Have Rhaena become essential to Rhaenyra getting to keep a foothold in Westeros, since most of the South (should be) allied to the Greens, the Riverlands are under Daemon's purview yes but he's not trustworthy enough for that to be an assurance, and the North is loyal to Rhaenyra but still taking its sweetass time doing anything. Have Rhaena find her own worth within in her in the way she helps the war effort not with a dragon, not with the way others have told her she could be useful and necessary, but with a way she's found for herself. Have her grow internally in the process, and become more confident and self-assured. There's a plot to give Rhaena in the Vale, but it's not Nettles's, it should be her own, crafted out of a care for her as a character and to give her a story of her own rather than slap someone else's to her because you were being lazy.

And speaking of Nettles, cutting her is ridiculous because she is absolutely essential. It's because of Nettles that, ultimately, things end the way that they do for a lot of characters. And that is because of her very specific connection to Daemon. Nettles joins up with Daemon after the Blacks take King's Landing, and it's soon very clear that these two have a very, very strong connection ('oh because she's his daughter' considering that Daemon seems incapable of loving any of his children, nah, I've always been in the romance camp for these two), especially on Daemon's part. And that strong connection, combined with Rhaenyra's distrust of dragonseeds, leads Rhaenyra to demand that Lord Mooton break guest right and kill Nettles, to stop her from "stealing" Daemon and then betraying Rhaenyra the way Hugh and Ulf did. Daemon finds out about this and, to save Nettles's life, helps her escape, in a goodbye that left Nettles upset and Daemon evidently heartbroken, considering that Caraxes starts screeching like a banshee as they leave. And that is what then spurs Daemon not to return to Rhaenyra's side, but to instead strike out and try to kill Aemond, and thus leads him to his own death in turn. Which leads to a loss of power for Rhaenyra which culminates in her fleeing King's Landing for Dragonstone where she's killed which then leads to Aegon returning to King's Landing only for the Northerners to attack which leads to him dying (I'm a proponent of suicide theory) which leads to Aegon III becoming King and etc etc.

You see how Nettles's existence starts the ball rolling for what becomes the next two hundred years of Targaryen, and by extension Westerosi, history? She's a very specific person, and you can't replace her with anyone else. Daemon has shown absolutely no care or consideration at all for his children by Laena, so there's no reason for him to be anywhere near as invested in Rhaena as he was with Nettles ('oh but Rhaena would have a dragon' well Baela already has a dragon and that didn't stop him from punting her to Driftmark so he could devote his attention only to his pureblood Valyrian sons and still not giving any kind of a shit about her at all, he's a bad father even if his kids have dragons). Rhaenyra's mistrust of Nettles is fueled by her mistrust of dragonseeds, but Rhaena wouldn't be a dragonseed, she's Daemon's trueborn daughter, so that's not an issue. Nor is Rhaenyra necessarily gonna be worried that Daemon is falling in love with his own daughter and thus falling out of love with her, or then try to go "well then the only option is for me to murder Daemon's daughter" as a result. So there'd be no strong connection motivating Daemon to value Rhaena so highly, there'd be no betrayal from Rhaenyra that gets Rhaena sent away and motivates Daemon to pull away from Rhaenyra and instead keep on fighting even if it means his death, and with that, there's no way any of the historical facts can proceed the way that they do. Nettles can't be Rhaena, she needs to be Nettles. She is her own person, with her own specific impact on the narrative and the characters within. And yes, F&B is a narrative, it's formatted like a history book which makes for good thought experiments and injects ambiguity within certain elements, but it's still a fictional story dreamed up by George, who then put characters in that story for a reason.

Not to mention, Nettles and Rhaena are very different characters? Like, they have incredibly different personalities. Rhaena's we haven't seen much of, because the show has suffered in characterizing the younger TB characters as a whole and is also just really bad in characterizing the Velaryons specifically (hm suspicious). But based on what we have, Rhaena seems a bit quiet, a bit subdued, prone to shyness, and generally favoring a more traditional femininity than we see from even Baela. Nettles meanwhile is coarse and rough and loud and unapologetic in that, she's not timid but in fact fearless and bold. Rhaena is a highborn daughter of a prince, stepdaughter to a queen. Nettles is a homeless whore's daughter who grew up poor and on thin means struggling to survive. Which is why Nettles is able to claim Sheepstealer, having to grow up the way she did with the experiences she had gave her an industriousness and a way of problem-solving that allowed her to figure out how to win over Sheepstealer, a wild unclaimed dragon. She used her wits, as she likely so often had to, growing up the way she did, to figure out that Sheepstealer might not like people but he likes a certain kind of food, and thus create an association in his head of Nettles=that food he likes by bringing him sheep until she gained enough of his trust to claim him as a dragon to ride. Rhaena doesn't have that industriousness because Rhaena, like 90% of highborn nobles, has never had to actually fight for anything ever. She's never had to really problem solve in a blunt way for anything, let alone her own survival, that might then inform how she might try to do something as daring as claiming a wild dragon. I mean, Hell, Rhaena gets told out loud "hey if you want a dragon you need to claim a dragon, earn that right" by her own mother who did the exact same thing, and then spent ten years on Dragonstone twiddling her thumbs, I guess, since she never thought "hm let me try that".

Like, these are different people, with different personalities and different upbringings that shaped them in different ways, and thus have different relationships and impact the story in different ways. You can't just smush them together, it doesn't work. It's bad writing that is going to really wreck a lot of the future storytelling in some key ways. It shows a stunning lack of care towards not just a pre-existing Black character, but a Black character the writers themselves created as well, along with a lack of creativity and imagination on their part, and overall laziness that was already a bit present in season 1 but got kicked into overdrive in season 2 and has become endemic to this show overall. It's bad, it's dumb, it's lazy, it's borderline racist, and I don't like it.

(also there's a potent symbolism in rhaena's dragon hatching on its own and that she's called morning, after the dance killed so many dragons and created so much death and doom for house targaryen and the survivors that remain, but fuck the symbolism too i guess)

#personal #answered #anonymous #anti hotd #hotd critical #rhaena targaryen #nettles #god nettles's relationship with daemon is so interesting and that apparently is gonna get washed down the fucking drain #also if rhaena had that plot that i outlined #(which i came up with ON THE FUCKING FLY how did an actual professional writer's room miss it)#then her then hatching morning can come from her own self confidence and belief in herself #which adds to the symbolism of morning as a whole

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swga-ficrecs · 1 year ago

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pennyellee · 10 months ago

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CHAPTER VII - mágoa

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, violence, bloodshed, history class on lacrimosa yall, nudity, blood, manhandling, slapping, mentions of suicide, gun use, genitalia cupping, gaslighting, anxiety, strong language, threats, misogyny, old social norms, lies-lies-lies, bone crunching, physical violence, suicide attempt

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 12K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VIII

mágoa (n.) a heartbreaking feeling that leaves long-lasting traces, visible in gestures and facial expressions

A pinch of sadness went through Y/N when she heard his words. She gave herself to him. Without any fight, simply accepting that this had to be done for her to build a strong base where he would trust her enough to let his guard down. After this day, her mind was barely holding up, therefore she went down the hill willingly rather than by force.

Her eyes were about to close slowly when he was taking the white sheet on which they consummated their marriage. Although her eyes were narrowed, she saw a significant portion of it being painted red with her blood. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she laid there, boring her eyes to the ceiling of the room rather than perceiving the reality.

The flames of the fire danced and flickered, casting a warm glow upon their entwined bodies. They laid there — he basked in the afterglow, and she in her own sorrow. He was caressing her hair while she laid on top of his naked torso where he moved her to rest just a moment ago, trying to not think about what had happened. She cared no more. Her mind and body were exhausted. Yoongi put a soft kiss on her forehead before he broke the serene silence.

“A bath, shall we?” Her body felt the mix of exhaustion and vulnerability as she went to get up, a soreness radiated in between her legs. Y/N could not wait till she would spread her limbs in the hot spring water. Yoongi gently swept her to his arms and carried her out of the room.

The corridor was softly lit by lanterns, their warm glow casting a gentle illumination. Paper windows filtered the moonlight, creating patterns of soft shadows on the wooden floor as he was taking her to the spring. He hoped it would ease her pain and relax her muscles so he could be a little more selfish and take her again and again until dusk.

Her naked nipples stiffened and reacted to the sudden change of temperature. Yoongi was yet again trying to control his urges to press her against the wall and take her from behind. But he knew better. She was sore, vulnerable, and he knew the time was ticking and soon a bigger wave of realisation would hit her.

The steam from the heated water mingled with the crisp air, creating a comforting atmosphere that embraced them. She could feel the cold wind hitting her body before Yoongi stepped inside the natural bath surrounded by ancient rocks, swiftly setting their bodies into the hot water. Y/N breathed out from the sensation of the water balming her sore muscles. She took a moment to embrace the peacefulness of her surroundings, momentarily forgetting the true nature of her situation and to whom is her naked body pressed to.

Her eyes snapped open when the nerve hit her senses, breath hitching in her throat, tears still struggling to dry on her cheeks. An epiphany. She tried to pull herself away from him, covering her chest when he pushed her against him even tighter.

“None of that, my love,” he whispered into her ear, nabbing at it and pecking her head. “You are finally doing so well, baby,” he spoke, his lips still pressed to her hair.

The soothing warmth of the water against her skin and the unsettling reality of her vulnerability in Yoongi’s embrace — it overwhelmed her from every perspective. His words, though tender, served as a reminder of the power dynamics that governed their relationship. She felt a surge of frustration and sadness, a silent plea for autonomy in a world that seemed determined to deny it and her resilience was coming back to life again.

“Yoongi,-” she said urgently, her voice carrying over the soothing sounds of flowing water. “When is it going to happen?” Y/N inquired, lifting her head up, her eyes searching for answers.

“It is already happening.”

The night had unfolded in shadows and whispers, and as the moon’s soft glow seeped into the bath, reality grew more elusive.

The infamous Yakuza, believing themselves five steps ahead of the Min clan, found their fortunes turned by the cunning moves of the young Kkangpae. The cards he tossed when luring out the enemy’s leader were not in their favour. Cut the snake’s head and it will die; Yoongi wished to see them all perish.

The headquarters of the Japanese clan, once a fortress of power, now stood vulnerable in the absence of its leader. Yoongi’s calculated manoeuvres had left them exposed, ripe for his seizing. From Japan to the north of Korea, with Hong Kong looming as the next conquest, the throne beckoned to him now.

The Kkangpae had played a dangerous game, and the stakes had never been higher. He realised this when the enemy held his beloved, poised to snuff out her life with vengeance. That urgency drove him to expedite matters. Within an hour, united soldiers of the Min and Wang houses moved to three different locations, armed and prepared for the Yakuza’s onslaught.

Yoongi knew the moment they set foot on his territorial grounds their intentions were not congratulatory. But one of the decoy. On that note, another three units secured warehouses, guarding the ammunition and the snow, as they called it, to maintain prosperity.

Y/N had underestimated him and the measures he would take to ascend the ladder. No man had dared challenge the Yakuza and lived to tell the tale, let alone dismantle the cruel syndicate over the span of a single lifetime.

The last of them were already en route to join infiltrators in Fukuoka, where all of Yamamoto’s warehouses lay, along with Tokyo’s headquarters. The command was clear: at the stroke of midnight — fire.

“Is Mother with Bó Chéng and Xiaoli, safe?” Her voice trembled. Y/N is no fool; her gut warned of temporary alliances and impending bloodshed once the Yakuza descended the stairs. This time, between Wangs and Mins. Yoongi never confirmed such a cruel assumption, yet, she knew.

He nodded solemnly, understanding her concern. “They are safe, love. I made sure of it,” he reassured, his voice a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. Yoongi’s eyes held a mysterious depth as he spoke, and the weight of his words lingered in the air.

The Kkangpae had unleashed a force that even he hadn’t fully anticipated, and the consequences were now playing out in real time. His vision was clear — The Min clan, a rising phoenix from the ashes, disrupting the status quo, plunging the city into disarray.

For years, no Korean clan had dared confront Japan’s Yakuza, the threat of annihilation keeping them in check. Hence, Korea’s underworld always stood divided until the former Kkangpae Min initiated revolutionary acts against both southern and northern enemies.

As the First World War unfolded, Yoongi’s father saw an opportunity to cover the blood traces left behind by the clans on the battlefield. The alliances formed, the battles fought—all of it became obscured by the larger narrative of global conflict. The revolution against both parties became a rallying cry for those long oppressed by the Yakuza.

The clan of Min knew if they wanted to succeed in this power play, attacking the northern foes was first in order before they could stand a chance over Yakuza and their international allies.

The war with its sweeping chaos and diversion, became a canvas for the Mins to redraw the lines of power. The world may be at peace now, the syndicate clans were nowhere near the fine line. A Cold War between the fighting clans arose and took its place now that they could not horrendously murder each other without drawing the attention of the upper world.

Not today.

His father’s revolutionary act set the stage, and Yoongi intended to finish it. With satisfaction, he watched as the wheels of change turned, irreversible.

The war ended over two decades ago and yet Yoongi still expected the unexpected. Hong Kong sought alliance with Tokyo. A marriage would seal it. Lineage was sacred, heavily valued. The syndicate, with its watchful eyes and ears attuned to the pulse of the underworld, murmured in speculation. Rumour was spread of Wang Zemo’s eldest daughter to be betrothed to Yamamoto Itsuki, the Yakuza’s heir.

Yoongi had just celebrated his 18th birthday when the murmur began. The girl, barely a decade old, promised to the Yakuza. No official betrothal could happen as she was still too young to be wedded.

Years went by and when she reached the 18th year of her life, Yoongi anticipated another bloodthirsty war to begin now that the arrangement could take place. But nothing happened. Holding her portrait in his hand, looking at the black and white photograph with a fresh cut on his eye, imagining how cherry red her lips must be and how he is going to drown in her eyes once he sees them for real. He saw opportunity, a golden ticket in this dangerous game.

Therefore, before her twenty-first birthday, Yoongi was already ahead of Yakuza, sipping tea with Wang Xiaoqing, the Triad leader’s older sister. His intention was clear from the beginning — the young gal in the portrait, undyingly beautiful.

Instead of wielding guns and knives at the northern enemy in China he was resolute in overthrowing the Triad by this calculated move of taking her and creating a powerful alliance in order to end Yakuza’s reign. He could have had any woman from his clan, but no woman ever spiked his interest as much as Wang Y/N.

He settled his mind on the path God presented him. He played his pieces, aiming for the Triad’s allegiance. The men of the Wang Triad, fiercely loyal to their established traditions, would not willingly follow an outsider — with or without war. To secure his grip on the Triad’s allegiance, Yoongi needed more than a coup; he needed a legitimate claim to leadership.

He played his pieces, aiming for the Triad’s allegiance. The young Kkangpae began his cockiness by taking the young woman to keep at his premises right before Yakuza would announce the engagement and followed the union.

Yoongi, the architect of this narrative, understood the power of perception. A move that seemed personal had far-reaching implications in the complex web of alliances that governed the criminal underworld.

The elderly woman was the smartest human he ever met. As she also held a mutual disdain for the house of Yamamoto that ran deep, an animosity fuelled by years of oppression and subjugation. The Yakuza’s supremacy over other clans, their unabashed acquisition of shares, land, and women, irked her. It was a political dominance that had cast a shadow over both Seoul and Hong Kong’s criminal underworld for far too long.

A shrewd strategist that Wang Xiaoqing was, recognised the potential for a successful revolution in Yoongi’s carefully laid steps — the blockade of docks, the seamless integration into the Yakuza’s business affairs, the subtle theft of opportunities, and the meticulous infiltration into their other operations—it was a game of chess played with finesse. Lastly, his determination on not letting Wang’s oldest daughter marry into Yakuza and form an alliance that could be a threat to his own kin.

Taking her niece would be a move that went beyond the surface, resonating with the desire to break free from the chains that bound them to the Yakuza’s dominance. Nobody dared to take what Yakuza claimed as theirs. Until him.

In the dimly lit warehouse where he was solely because the Luen’s shipment of ammunition to Taiwan got rampaged by Yakuza soldiers. Their attack on the shipment had disrupted his plans, leading him to intervene personally.

The captured Yakuza soldier, now a pawn in this unexpected confrontation, was brought before Yoongi for interrogation. The improvised setup within the warehouse served as the backdrop for the intense questioning that aimed to unveil the motives behind the Yakuza’s brazen attack that Yoongi already knew. It was their way of sending a message, a warning to the clans to not climb the ladder too high.

However, that’s not what aches Yoongi’s heart whenever he remembers that night. It was her, clad in her signature red qipao, in a dishevelled state, most likely chilled to the bone, lip split open.

The date on which Yoongi would arrive to collect her was settled two weeks from that day, but there she was, standing in the warehouse, most likely looking for a shelter from the cold.

In the silent exchange, Yoongi saw a glimpse of vulnerability and strength, a combination that both intrigued and captivated him. She looked straight to his eyes for what felt like hours without flinching away. The spark he felt that ignited between them in that warehouse would become the member of an unspoken understanding—a realisation that love, in its rawest form, had found its way to his heart.

He recalls how his breath stammered when he saw her for the first time. No matter how long she’s been running, no matter how the chilly wind ruffled her hair — she looked magnificent. All the love letters scribbled down that he had never sent to her were hidden in the drawer of his desk. He might give them to her one day once she will be ready to reciprocate his love.

Yoongi was convinced that it was destiny that she came upon the warehouse, as if God was leading her to his arms, where she belongs. At least according to the young leader of the clan. Y/N’s arrival to his land was unexpected and it certainly changed the whole trajectory. And that was one of the pivotal moments when he decided to rethink his steps.

This unforeseen encounter planted the seeds of a different kind of connection, one that deviated from the cold calculations of alliances and power and dark intentions loomed over the young Kkangpae Min.

Yoongi used to see marriage as a means to an end, a pragmatic choice made in the pursuit of power and influence. The emotions that typically accompanied such unions were to be set aside in favour of the greater goal at hand.

But her presence started to overshadow the original intentions of the alliance. How she fought him, stood her ground — all just made him want her more. As he found himself captivated by her company, the cold calculations of the former plan began to waver and he was decided.

The Yakuza’s move was thought-through, he did not expect any less—a challenge issued with violence and bloodshed and in the midst of celebration, chaos erupted. Min with his bride long gone to safety. Masked assailants, clad in the insignia of the Yakuza, stormed the hotel and one would think this is the end. But this conflict was nowhere near the grand finale.

At the time of the awaited attack of Yakuza men, echoes of screams of agony and crackling fire were far too loud. A clear symbol of the arising power of the Min clan. The two generations of Yamamoto's men, father and son, now lay as nothing more than ashes.

The night, which should have been a tender moment of intimacy, became the stage for a chilling chess move. As Yoongi and Y/N shared the vulnerability of their union, the Min clan, under his orders, descended upon the Yakuza with a relentless fury.

The sound of gunfire and explosions echoed in the night, a symphony of retribution that played out against the backdrop far away from their marital chamber. While Yoongi claimed the innocence of his wife, he orchestrated the downfall of those who dared to challenge his dominion.

The puppeteer of this grim performance, ensured that their legacy was erased, their power dismantled, and their grip on the criminal underworld shattered. In just one night, the war that lasted years ended.

Infiltrating the Yakuza was a meticulous plan, and his true intentions were hidden even from those closest to him. As the Min clan annihilated the Yakuza in cold blood, the night drew to a close and only those who would bend the knee and pledge loyalty were spared.

The night had witnessed the birth of a new order and the song of the dead echoed whilst the former empire shattered into pieces.

Morning arrived with a soft glow, painting the room in shades of muted light where Yoongi’s fingers traced gentle patterns on her naked back.

“Breakfast is ready,” he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss on her forehead. She nodded, wordless.

The table boasted an array of dishes, their enticing aroma filling the air. Yet Y/N could not eat yesterday nor today, the food simply did not go down her system.

Yoongi’s gaze remained fixed on her from time to time, while he was reading today’s paper the maid delivered together with the breakfast. His eyes, like a silent observer, bore witness to the aftermath of a night. Y/N’s eyes were bloodshot, cheeks stained with dried tears, her neck bearing bruises. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon her, yet he held onto the hope that all would settle now.

Yoongi sighed and reached into the pocket of his black vest.

“I have not read it,” said he once they finished eating breakfast and sat down in the lounge room. Y/N’s eyes moved to meet him, anticipating his next step. She did not want to speak to him. She did not want to look at him nor she did not want him to look at her.

“I appreciate that,” said Y/N, avoiding his eyes. Yoongi sighed again, reluctant to relinquish leverage over her, yet compelled to address the matter at hand. Deep down, he hoped the contents of the letter would bring her solace, perhaps even warmth towards him. Now, he stood as a fool in the pouring rain.

He carefully handed the letter, urging her to open it.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tearing open the envelope and extracting the yellowed paper within.

She looked at Yoongi one more time, and when she saw him spreading out the newspapers, she was glad he gave her at least some degree of privacy. Her eyes fell upon the cursive symbols of her beloved aunt’s handwriting.

The memories flooded back as Y/N read the words on the aged paper, transporting her to a time when life was less complicated. Yet, she remembers clearly the moment when the complications started to appear. She read the words, screaming at her whilst detailing Wang Xiaoqing’s declining health, her world halted.

The air grew heavy with a mix of medicinal scents and the weight of impending loss. Her aunt, a pillar of strength, lay frail on the bed, and Y/N’s heart ached at the sight.

As she recalls her last moments with her while reading the neatness of her handwriting Y/N finally sees the truth. Her breath caught in her throat, vision blurred by tears. Clutching the paper tightly, she read the words repeatedly, struggling to accept their meaning.

“I need you to understand, my dear,” her aunt’s voice, weakened but filled with determination, echoed in the room.

“There are things, things I have kept from you to protect your mind and soul.”

Her aunt reached for her hand, the warmth of their connection grounding them in that vulnerable moment. The intricate dance between clans, the bloodshed, and the sacrifice her aunt had made to shield her from the harsh realities of their world.

“But it seems that my judgement was clouded—” In that moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, as if bracing for the revelation that would reshape the very foundation of her understanding. The vulnerability in her voice resonated with the unspoken sacrifices made for the sake of protection. Or at least that is what she thought she was doing by allowing Min Yoongi to take her into custody and use her as a leverage over the clans in negotiation of dominance.

“We do not have much time I fear,” her aunt continued, urgency etched into her every word. Y/N held her hand tightly, afraid to let her go.

“Once you burn me to ashes, I need you to run and not look back, Kai will help you get away—” a strong cough interrupted her speech and Y/N rushed to get her some tea to ease her throat. A bony hand landed on her forearm, stopping her in motion. Her eyes watered again at the sight of the state God let her aunt get in. Her fingers were turning purple and Y/N knew what that means. Oxygen was leaving her body and the end was near.

“Auntie—” she went to protest, at the time not understanding why she needed to run in the first place. But she listened carefully to her aunt closely when her sore and painful voice mapped out her next steps.

Back then Y/N wanted to believe it was a sacrifice born out of love and the desire to break free from the cycle of violence that had ensnared their family for too long. And her aunt presented her a chance to not be in the middle of the fire.

Peace was a fragile illusion. Min Yoongi may be a titan among the outside world, yet within the confines of his own home, his dominion was about to face its greatest challenge.

Yoongi, engrossed in his reading, spared his wife the intrusion of his gaze, allowing her the solitude to grapple with the weight of her aunt’s revelations. Not having a clue what the dying woman could write.

The revelations echoed in the silence of the room, and when Y/N finally looked up from the letter, her eyes met Yoongi’s. The vulnerability in that moment transcended the complexities of their current situation, forging an unspoken false connection on his side rooted in pain and the unravelling of hidden truths. In a burst of fury, she lashed out.

“You’re a fucking liar.”

An anger radiated from her, the heat rushing to her head. Yoongi’s eyes locked onto hers; he didn’t flinch at the sudden eruption of anger — it was nothing he didn’t already get used to. Instead, he folded the paper with deliberate care, setting it aside.

“Am I?” His response was laced with a hint of amusement, a calculated provocation that stoked the flames of her anger.

The contents of the letter, as it seems, are not what he hoped for. Nonetheless, he wondered whether he would fight this battle. Sooner or later she would learn the truth. It’s the timing that was not perfect and he knew it’s going to be hard to put the fire out.

“You manipulated her into agreeing—” Yoongi sucked the inner side of his mouth and released it with a loud click of his tongue, trying to compose himself for what is to come as she now knows.

“—with a choice, dove. A difficult one, yes, but she made the decision on her own accord,” Yoongi interjected, his voice maintaining a disconcerting calmness.

“You lied to her!” A wry smile played on Yoongi’s lips as he met her accusing gaze. Y/N was hanging on the farthest end of the branch and soon enough she would fall. Yoongi’s gaze remained fixed on Y/N, his calm demeanour a stark contrast to the storm brewing within her.

“She would not have approved if she knew of your intentions!” Yoongi leaned against a nearby table after he stood up, his gaze unwavering. He realised that what she is implying is true. But he also knew that this is not the world where Wang Xiaoqing would be stupid enough to give him her hand. She knew what it would mean.

“Power comes with a price. Your aunt understood that and made the necessary sacrifice.” Y/N scoffed at his words, incredulous. Yoongi’s response was a wry smile, a silent admission of guilt that he would never voice out.

“And what of my sacrifice? What about the life I wanted, the choices I never got to make? You took them from me!” He reached out to her, his fingers gently tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. Yoongi looked at her trembling lips and caught himself thinking how good they felt against his last night.

Y/N, caught between anger and grief, searched Yoongi’s eyes for any sign of remorse. Yet, all she found was the unwavering resolve of a leader who had chosen duty over sentiment.

Her patience was wearing thin, her anger boiling over like a cauldron on the verge of eruption.

“I did what I had to do for the survival of our clan—” she struck out, her hand connecting with his cheek in a resounding slap. Her whole body was shaking with grief, anger and hatred.

Yoongi’s head pivoted slightly at the sudden intrusion he did not expect. Yet, even as she railed against him, hitting him repeatedly, Yoongi remained steadfast. All the curse words she sent his way were only bypassing him. He knows she wouldn’t do this in normal circumstances. But to stop and think for a second — there were never normal circumstances to begin with.

“You took everything from me!” Her voice was a plaintive cry, a desperate plea for justice in a world gone mad.

“I gave myself to you!” She screamed furiously. Yoongi’s eyes, usually calm and collected, flickered with rage. She glared back at him, tears streaming down her face. The reality of her situation sunk in, and Y/N felt a profound sense of betrayal.

“You’re fucking liar Min Yoongi. You never fucking needed to-” Yoongi’s jaw tensed, the anger in his gaze burning like a smouldering ember. His calm façade cracked, revealing the storm of emotions within while she aimed to hit his face again.

“Are you done?” He forcefully grabbed her wrists, stopping her, holding them tightly while he pulled her towards him. She shook her head, trying to break free from his grasp to make more damage. Y/N refused to yield.

“Fucking listen to me, Y/N,” he spoke through gritted teeth, his voice a low growl.

“Yes, I lied to your aunt because I knew where your ambitions lay and where she wanted you to be.” His grip tightened as he continued, his words cutting through the charged air. She shook her head in disbelief, struggling to break free from his hold as he violently pulled her back.

“I knew she would never give me her blessing to marry you!” Y/N’s eyes widened with a mix of surprise and realisation of his confession, confirming the contents of the letter.

“So you fucking tricked her,” she gritted through her teeth. Min Yoongi never intended to send her overseas, just like he promised the dying woman. All this time, she blamed her aunt for choosing her path, unaware of Yoongi’s manipulations.

“I could have slaughtered the whole Triad. Think of this as me being merciful.”

The weight of his words settled in the room, a heavy silence following his chilling revelation.

“You even fooled my father into thinking this is all my aunt’s doing,-” she whispered unbelievably, her voice laced with a bitter realisation. Yoongi’s expression remained impassive, but the truth lingered in the air like a haunting melody.

“You made a promise to her that I will be safe overseas, so why am I here, Yoongi?!”

“Because I fucking fell in love with you!” he exclaimed, his voice rising, his eyes searching for any kind of emotion that would show that she understands his doings. Of course she does not understand, after all, he does not understand how much damage he has done either. He is selfish and he always will be.

“You betrayed her trust!” Y/N’s eyes, on the other hand, searched for any sign of remorse, any glimmer of the man she thought she knew. He exhaled heavily, the weight of their tangled destinies pressing down on him.

“It was either marrying you and having a legitimate claim or bloodshed. Would you rather the worse option?” Y/N’s gaze wavered between anger and hurt, her surroundings fading away.

“You justify cruelty with some deluded sense of righteousness,” she said, her voice strained from the last vestiges of her strength.

“You’re part of this world, part of my world, whether you like it or not—”

“This was never about Yamamotos right?—” She looked right into his eyes, scanning the angry red scar that ran up in his brow that he now raised at her remark.

“—you are going to break the alliance with my father the first chance you get. That is what you mean by legitimate claim, am I fucking right Yoongi?!” He clenched his jaw, frustration etched on his face. Y/N had seen through his carefully constructed façade.

“You only fucking love yourself and your fucking clan!” He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words but whence she decided that getting physical with him again is the answer — he snapped.

His hand forcefully clutched her jaw in a tight grip, just like when she first opened her eyes under his imprisonment. The wall met her back and she gave out a painful yelp. He closed the proximity to her face and spoke the words right to her ear while watching her struggle to get out of his grip.

“One of the things I love about you, dove, is your cleverness. But this little clever girl needs to finally learn her place,” he said, his words seething with control. She was whimpering in his grip that got tighter and tighter with each word he uttered.

“I took you for a wife so when I blow the brains out of your Sire’s head and take over his Triad, I will be unopposed, that is the truth, now—” Y/N’s eyes widened in both shock and fear as Yoongi’s words penetrated the air around her.

The force of his grip on her jaw made her gasp, the pain radiating through her face. The cold, unyielding wall at her back provided no escape, and she felt a surge of helplessness as his words sank in.

“Yet, out of the love I have for you, I have ensured your lovely sister will have her place within our clan and your mother will be taken care of. It’s the little boy you are afraid I might hurt, innit?” The mention of her family sent a shiver down her spine, and her eyes flickered with a mix of dread and anger.

“Well let us say, if you shall not force my hand by your shenanigans, I shall spare him.”

“You are a psychopathic monster,” she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice barely audible as his grip was not allowing her to speak properly. He chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers down her spine.

“You were not saying that when I spilled all my love inside of your cunt, claiming you” his lips brushed against her ear as he whispered, cupping her womanhood with his free hand.

“You have no choice in this, dove. You are mine, bound by vows and blood. And when the time comes, you shall see I am the only one who can protect you—” his lips dangerously close to her ear now moved, laying a small peck on her wet cheek, right under her eye.

“—to provide for you,” his lips brushed upon her skin moving to lay another peck to her forehead. Tears streamed down her face.

“—to love you.” He finished, pressing his lips to hers.

“I wanted you from the very beginning. It was always you,—” She narrowed her eyes, a fire igniting within her despite the fear. The taste of his lips lingered on hers as Yoongi pulled away, his eyes fixed on her tear-stained face.

“—even if I would slaughter every member of your Triad, I would have spared you, my love.”

“I would rather die,” she spat at him, a small act of defiance in the face of his cruelty.

“Death is easy, dove. It’s the living hell I can create for you and those you love that should terrify you—” He traced a finger along her jaw, a sickening smile playing on his lips.

“Even the strongest wills can be broken, I still have some ways to make you obey and be a dutiful loving wife.”

“I will not become the submissive wife you fantasise about.”

But the scarred leader had a trick up his sleeve that only time will show whether she will need that kind of fixing.

“You are a challenging one, and I do love a good challenge. However, your defiance is only temporary,” he smirked, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Y/N recoiled, a sense of dread settling in her stomach. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his plans, something insidious lurking beneath the surface. The scarred leader had shown a glimpse of a darker side, a side that made her shudder with apprehension. The voices in her head never left and now they were louder than ever.

“In the end, you will crave me,” his words echoed, each syllable dripping with a sinister certainty. “—And what a good life I can offer. I have all the time in the world to make you mine. Soul and mind.” He continued his monologue. She clenched her fists, steeling herself against the onslaught of doubt and fear.

“If my mind does not betray me, I told you what will happen once you disobey me again, did I not, dove?” her heart pounding in her chest as Yoongi’s words sent waves of revulsion through her. She fought against the oppressive grip on her jaw, her eyes ablaze with a mixture of defiance and fury.

“How exactly did I disobey you, hm?” she demanded, her voice rising with each word.

His chuckle resonated in the room, and he released his hold on her jaw. Y/N slumped against the wall, gasping for a deep inhale of air. The tears blurred her vision and her head seemed too heavy. Yoongi took the little bell on the side table, turning to Y/N, a cold glint in his eyes.

“I assume, the last time I disciplined you, was not simply enough.” He carried on without taking her comment to notice. She struggled to regain her composure, wiping away the tears that clouded her vision.

His fingers toyed with the small bell in his hand, and the room seemed to constrict around her.

The sound of the bell echoed, a disconcerting prelude to what awaited her. Yoongi’s gaze bore into her, a chilling determination evident in his demeanour.

“It seems you need a little reminder.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened, her mind racing with the fear of the unknown. She heard footsteps approaching the room and her head swiftly turned to follow the sound.

“Yoongi—” she pleaded. He remained unmoved. The approaching footsteps grew louder, and a sense of dread settled in the pit of her stomach.

“I hope this will be the final lesson, dove,” Yoongi said, the edge of cruelty evident in his voice. When she saw him reach for the walther in his holster, her pleas became more urgent.

“I am sorry, that’s what you want to hear right, Yoongi? I am sorry!” she implored, her voice shaky with a blend of terror and disbelief. “I will do whatever you want, just don’t—”

But her words were cut short as Yoongi’s hand gripped the handle of the walther. The room seemed to close in around her, the walls similarly closing in on the remnants of her hope. His gaze remained cold, his resolve unyielding as extended hand with the gun in his grip aiming for the incomer sliding the hanji paper door open.

Yoongi’s gaze shifted toward the figure entering the room, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Panic surged through her as she redirected her plea, desperately trying to avert the impending danger. His finger hovered over the trigger. He patiently waited till the door slid all the way in before loading the gun that alarmed Y/N even more.

“Yoongi stop, let us talk—” he had to laugh at how quickly he can have her on chokehold, smothering the fire in her. He was having none of it this time.

But before she could act, Yoongi’s grip tightened on the gun, his finger inching closer to the trigger. The figure in the doorway froze, sensing the danger that lurked in the scarred leader’s cold gaze.

Y/N needed to think quickly, her gaze momentarily meeting the poor made, stopping to look her over, she gulped down. It was her. The young girl’s tears were already falling to the wooden floor once she slumped down to her knees and begged for her life, just like she did months ago near the koi pond that she almost drowned in.

“I told you the Lord has a plan—” Y/N closed her eyes shut tightly, trying to think of a way to save the girl’s life. She owes her so much already and she certainly does not deserve to die because the man cannot handle being rejected each time there’s progress within the messed up relationship he formed in his deluded head.

Her palms pressed to her eyes she breathed the air in. With a surge of determination, she stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest. Yoongi’s gaze bore into her, his cold eyes reflecting the twisted depths of his obsession.

With a deep breath, Y/N made her move. Ignoring the fear that threatened to paralyse her, she closed the distance between them in a swift motion. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, her touch gentle yet calculated. His gaze locked with hers in a silent battle of wills. It confused him. What does she think she is doing? The scarred leader was too selfish to stop her. Feeling her warm hand on his cheek made him lose his hardened features.

If he could rule with fear and violence, she can rule with the love he desperately wants her to reciprocate, even if it will be pretended. And pretend she planned to.

Y/N was not stupid, she knew he would not believe her one bit that she is going to be a pitch-perfect mafia wife overnight. But gradually, till she can think of a way to leave. A plan was already writing itself in her conflicted mind. For now, she needed to get the girl out of danger, and if she had to forget about where she was standing and with whom, she would. For a life that can be spared.

And then, without hesitation, she pressed her lips to his in a desperate kiss. It was a gamble, a risky move born out of necessity. But in that fleeting moment, as their lips met in a deceitful embrace, Y/N prayed it would be enough to distract him.

Her heart raced with adrenaline as she poured every ounce of determination into the kiss, willing him to succumb to the illusion of affection. She could feel the tension in his body, his grip on the gun momentarily faltering as she moved her lips against his.

Yoongi was too taken aback to react differently than kissing her back as if this was the last time he was. She used his own tactics against him, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed to pay off. Winning this round with flying colours as the gun with a swift motion was sent clattering to the floor. The sound echoed through the room.

When Y/N finally parted from him, her eyes filled with determination, Yoongi chuckled softly, the façade of affection slipping away. Yoongi took an estranged string of hair and tugged it behind her ear.

“I told you your defiance is only temporary.”

“And you just proved your threats are empty.”

She refused to let his words intimidate her, to succumb to the fear that threatened to consume her. She knew Min Yoongi’s weakness all too well.

Her — it was her greatest advantage now, and she planned to use it to its fullest extent. Her defiance was far from being temporary. One step at a time; she planned to win.

Y/N watched the falling snow from the Cadillac’s window, her mind swirling with the events that had transpired. Min Yoongi sat beside her in stony silence, still seething from their confrontation. He dragged her to the car kicking. His pride was wounded by her defiance. Again. But she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter, of breaking under the weight of his control.

This was not the right time for her shell to crack. He needed her composed and Y/N was not feeling like a puppet he has had made of her these past months. He overstepped the line with the knowledge that and in their world, truth can kill.

He dusted his coat and hat from snow once they stepped inside of the hotel they vacated not even a day ago. Y/N felt small once she walked by his side, not because he would intimidate her, that was never the case — her eyes creeped at the hallway where her body was pressed to the wall, strong hand on her neck.

A sense of unease settled over her. She raised her own hand to touch the still sore space covered by the neckline of her qipao, white fur coat draped around her shoulders.

His sharp eyes noticed it and for a fleeting moment he paused, his gaze softening imperceptibly as it fell upon Y/N’s form. Despite the coldness that often characterised his demeanour, there was a flicker of something akin to remorse in his eyes.

That is where Min Yoongi’s remorse lies. He did not regret taking her as wife, he did not regret all the lies, damage and deception he employed to achieve so, what he did regret was her getting physically hurt. He regretted listening to her sister when she said he should stay with the guests instead of attending to you. But as quickly as it had appeared, the moment passed, and Yoongi’s expression hardened once more.

She followed him into the dining hall, her steps hesitant as they walked side by side. The room erupted into applause once they stepped in. The sound echoing off the walls in a cacophony of celebration of the genocide they just performed.

The celebration was a mockery of the destruction they had caused, the lives they had taken in the name of power. Y/N scanned the faces in the room, searching for her family among the crowd. Relief washed over her when she saw Xiaoli, hanged on the arm of Kim Taehyung; she nodded, a silent reassurance that they were safe.

There is never a guarantee that ordinary civilians won’t be harmed as that’s how clan’s limit the possibility of attacking the headquarters which were strategically located in the heart of the city. Therefore, no assurances that innocent lives would be spared.

Her steps remained hesitant as they made their way through the crowded room. Number of men and women patted him on his back, congratulating him on the plan he orchestrated worked just right. And as she cast a glance at Yoongi, she couldn’t help but wonder whether they all would ever find redemption for the sins they had committed.

Yoongi raised his hand once they got in the middle of the dining hall, attempting to silence everyone. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to him expectantly.

But Y/N paid him no mind, her thoughts consumed by the dark undercurrents that lurked beneath the surface. She did not bother to pay attention to her so-called husband’s propagandic words to his blind worshipers. The voices in her head would outcry him or anyone else. For what little her ears caught, there was a sense of pride in his words, a conviction that they had done what needed to be done to protect their interests.

“We must remain vigilant,” he concluded, his voice a warning. “Our enemies may have been vanquished, but new threats will always emerge. We must stand together, united in our resolve to protect what is ours.” Yoongi’s gaze lingered on Y/N possessively. When his gaze fell back to the crowd, he saw his right hand man making a way to the centre, rather urgently.

“Excuse me,-” Yoongi murmured to those around him, his tone clipped as he stepped away from the crowd. He had little time for idle chatter, especially in the midst of their celebrations.

Namjoon’s expression was grave as he spoke, his words measured and deliberate. “There’s been a development,-” he began, his voice becoming too low to understand what he was saying. Y/N’s eyes flickered to all of them before they landed back on Yoongi and still whispering Namjoon.

Yoongi’s expression remained unreadable as he listened to Namjoon, his features schooled into a mask of stoicism. But as Namjoon’s words sank in, a flicker of something dark and dangerous glinted in his eyes. As Yoongi turned to face her, his gaze piercing and intense, she could not predict what was going to happen.

The scarred leader encouraged everyone to continue with celebrations with a big smile plastered on his face, his voice ringing out with false warmth and cheer. But the persona was long gone once he turned to face the group of his most trusted man.

“Tae, take Xiaoli to her room and come back, the rest, office now—” Yoongi ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

“I’m going to see Bó Chéng and Ma, Yoongi.” She announced, interrupting the stream of his command. Yoongi’s gaze snapped to Y/N, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before his expression hardened once more. He attempted to make a reasonable argument why she cannot go, but there was none, only his selfishness remained. Clutching his fist tightly, he spoke.

“Thirty minutes, then I need you downstairs.” Yoongi’s jaw clenched as he struggled to contain his frustration. Y/N nodded curtly, she knew that this is a rare occasion that he would agree without a fight.

“Dove?” Yoongi called when she turned to walk away. He hesitated for a moment, his thoughts racing as he searched for the right words. The darkness and possessiveness that loomed over him overshadowed any kind of sincerity he wished he would say instead.

“Do not make me come and get you.”

The atmosphere was heavy with tension as Yoongi sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he listened to the reports from his subordinates. The news of Chanyeol’s demise lingered in the air like a dark omen, casting a shadow over the room.

“Are you certain it was a suicide?” Yoongi’s voice cut through the tense silence of the room.

“They found him hanging in his cell,” Namjoon replied, his tone cautious. “No signs of foul play.”

Yoongi’s mind raced with questions. The absence of a trial meant that Chan-yeol’s fate had been sealed, his sins catching up to him in the most final of ways.

“His death was inevitable,” Yoongi murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. “But it serves as a reminder to all who dare to betray us.”

“He fucking deserved to have his balls cut off, Hyung.” The youngest member of the board spoke with venom in his voice. The sentiment was shared by many in the room, but Yoongi knew that dwelling on revenge would only serve to distract them from their true objectives. Nonetheless, he silently nodded in agreement.

“Are all our goods secured, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi shifted the conversation to more practical matters, his focus unwavering despite the weight of recent events. Their operations could not afford to falter.

“They’re secured, Hyung,” Jimin replied, his tone confident. “We’ve taken the necessary precautions to ensure our assets remain protected.”

“Good,” Yoongi said, his voice firm. “We can’t afford any mistakes. Keep a close eye on everything, and report any unusual activity immediately—”

“What is it, Yoongi?” The doctor’s voice resonated throughout the room. He was sitting near the fireplace, nursing a glass of liquor in his hand, his eyes sharp and thin while looking at his brother and leader.

The moment he stepped inside of the hotel, Seokjin knew something had happened that got under Yoongi’s skin. The only reason is still absent in this room, her time slowly waning.

Yoongi’s gaze flickered towards Seokjin, his brother’s interruption breaking the flow of their conversation.

“We have matters to attend to, Seokjin,” Yoongi replied, his tone clipped but not unkind. “Important ones.”

“Rumour has it—” he stood up, ignoring the scarred boy’s dismissal he had known forever, Seokjin’s eyes bore into Yoongi’s, a silent challenge passing between them.

“That while you celebrate the victory, your own household is on fire.” Yoongi’s jaw tightened, a silent acknowledgement of the truth in Seokjin’s words.

“So tell us what is bothering you.” Despite his efforts to maintain his composure, he couldn’t entirely mask the unease that gnawed at him. Reaching the spot where his bride imprinted her hand earlier, he spoke.

“She knows Wang Xiaqing did not give me any blessing to marry her.” He could visibly see his right-hand man pressing his fingers to the root of his notes and sighing loudly. The youngest could not help but chuckle at his leader’s words as he sympathised with Y/N to most. Not enough to help her out of this situation though.

Seokjin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze locking onto Yoongi’s with intensity. The revelation hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the room.

“And how did she come to know this?” Seokjin’s voice was low, a mixture of concern and curiosity. Yoongi’s jaw tensed, his expression clouding over with frustration.

“I gave her the letter without reading it first.”

“Yoongi why the actual fuck you would do that?!” Namjoon’s voice cut through the tension in the room, his anger palpable. Yoongi’s gaze hardened as he turned to face Namjoon, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“Because she was making good progress, and I couldn’t deny it any longer,” Yoongi replied. Namjoon’s expression softened his features, reflecting a mix of sympathy and understanding.

“It does not matter, Hyung, she is your wife and that cannot be undone, right?” Hoseok’s voice carried a note of reassurance when he softly smiled at him.

Seokjin held up a hand, silencing the room. His pointing finger aimed at Yoongi next. “Yes, whatever happens, she is still your wife.”

“Yeah, well, go and tell her that, see if she listens.” Yoongi muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration, sinking back to his armchair. Namjoon exchanged a knowing glance with Seokjin.

“Does she know about your plans for her father’s Triad?” Namjoon’s question hung in the air, injecting a new layer of tension into the room.

Yoongi’s hand was pinching his lip when the question was raised. His eyes on neither of the men questioning him.

“She figured,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Seokjin’s expression tightened, his gaze narrowing as he processed Yoongi’s words. Namjoon’s eyes widened in surprise, his brows furrowing with concern and the rest of the man reflected the same kind of emotions.

“Hyung, but you just said she made progress, right? All will be good.” Namjoon’s question hung in the air, injecting a note of uncertainty into the conversation. Yoongi’s jaw clenched, his mind racing as he considered Namjoon’s words. He had believed that Y/N understood her role in their world, but recent events had shaken that belief to its core.

“I thought she did,” Yoongi murmured, his voice heavy with regret. “But now, I’m not so sure.” The remaining six were staring at their leader, expecting them to fill him in. They needed to know the situation in case little Mrs Min attempted to ruin every ongoing operation by running away.

“Well then, humble her like you always do—” Namjoon began, his tone suggesting a ruthless solution to the problem. The rest of them were not as right with their brother’s drastic intentions. Apart from Seokjin, he knew the young gal enough to know that being soft wouldn’t move her. But Yoongi’s interruption cut through the air like a knife.

“She said my threats are empty.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Yoongi’s words hanging in the air.

“Fucking show her they are not, Yoongi. You’re the Kkangpae, and she is your wife, goddammit.” Namjoon’s frustration boiled over, his voice laced with urgency. They needed her well, alive and here as an obedient and loyal wife.

Yoongi had given her the chance to do so willingly, he had even gone against his trusted men’s words when he suggested she be involved in the business however she liked. He tried to play nice numerous times. In his mind. Not in hers.

Yoongi shall never fully scope how much he took from her. He is selfish enough to never even accept the possibility of letting her go for the better course in their damaged relationship. He always ruled with fear and kindness was only recently added to his vocabulary once he fell in love with her. Deeply, quickly and too hard. Whether he was willing to make that sacrifice, to truly change the way he ruled his empire, remained to be seen.

He wanted to mould her into the perfect wife for a Kkangpae. But he also wished that she would reciprocate his love. He had demanded too much of her, without ever truly understanding the cost. And as he looked around the room at the faces of his most trusted allies, he realised that he was not the only one who had underestimated the strength of her will.

Every one of them thought this matter would be solved after the wedding and she would slowly succumb to what life they offered her. But if there was one thing he was certain of, it was this: he would do whatever it took to keep her by his side, even if it meant confronting the darkest parts of himself in the process.

“I can always fix her, Yoongi.” Yoongi’s jaw clenched as he processed the implication behind Seokjin’s statement.

“That shall be the very last option, aight?” Yoongi finally replied, his voice firm despite the doubt that gnawed at him.

They may not have agreed with his decision, but they recognized the weight of his words. And in that moment, Yoongi thought that he had taken the first step towards redemption. Only to fall back down for what he is going to do.

“You underestimate the power of discontent, brother,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “It festers, grows until it consumes everything in its path. You would do well not to ignore it.”

“I’ll handle it,” he said, his voice filled with determination.

The door creaked open, revealing a figure standing in the doorway. Fashionably late, she at least arrived after she made sure that her little brother and mother were safe and sound. She has put him down for his afternoon nap, promising him to make a snowman when he wakes up.

The men’s looks met her eyes with a hint of little something Y/N could not interpret.

“What is it?” She asked carefully, scanning their faces.

“We were just discussing some matters concerning the recent events.” Seokjin steadied his voice and fixed his tie.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the tension in the air, but she forced herself to maintain a calm façade. She stepped further into the room, her eyes flickering between the faces of the men gathered around the table.

“Is there something I need to be aware of?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

“Chan-yeol’s dead,” said Yoongi coldly. She swallowed hard, trying to process the information.

The tension in the room seemed to thicken as the men exchanged guarded glances. Yoongi’s gaze bore into hers, searching for any hint of vulnerability. But Y/N held his stare, refusing to show any weakness in front of him or his associates.

Truth to be told, she did not know how to feel. The man was an accomplice in an act not worthy of heaven’s gate after death. The numbness that was creeping in her brain was spreading further and further.

“Does Daiyu know?” She gulped down the question, avoiding direct eye contact with any of the men.

“She knows. There will not be any funeral as he was a traitor to our clan.”

In their world, traitors were dealt with swiftly and without mercy. There would be no mourning for Chan-yeol, no funeral to honour his memory. He had chosen his path, and now he would face the consequences.

Y/N breathed the thick air of the room deeply in and licked her lips, her teeth scraping the bottom lip, a subconscious gesture of anxiety. The world of the Kkangpae was unforgiving, its rules and consequences absolute.

“Well, if you excuse us Buin, we shall take our leave.” Hoseok sensed that it was the right time to flee this room before more private and intense conversations could start between the man and his wife.

“Of course,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She watched silently as the men filed out of the room one by one, their expressions unreadable as they passed her by. Alone in the room with Yoongi, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that they will not have a pleasant conversation.

She turned to face him, searching his expression for any sign of what was to come. Their inner problems were never concluded, rather set on pause and Y/N had a hunch that Yoongi would not let her earlier shenanigans go.

“I want to speak to her, Yoongi.” She knew that asking to speak with Dayiu was a bold move, especially given the recent events and the strained dynamics between them.

“Why?” he asked, his tone betraying none of his thoughts or emotions.

“I want to express my condolences.”

“Condolences?-” he echoed, the scepticism evident in his tone. What kind of condolence she wanted to express when the very same man was an accomplice of such a sinistrous act.

“She lost a husband and the little boy lost his dad—” He knew Y/N well enough to recognise when she was being genuine and when she was attempting to manipulate the situation to her advantage. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of guardedness, perhaps even suspicion.

“Do you want to perchance tell her to run, dove?” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the directness of his question.

“I want to offer my condolences sincerely,” she replied, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. “Whatever may have transpired between us should not affect her, Yoongi.” Yoongi’s gaze remained fixed on Y/N, assessing her words and the sincerity behind them. She meant to say that whatever happens in their messed up relationship, Daiyu should never be used as bargain anymore.

“I agree. But you just won’t ever learn, will you?” Their eyes locked, each of them holding their ground in the midst of their complex emotions.

“Yoongi, you ruined my goddamn life. Please don’t expect me to play house with you.”

“I’m offering you the life of a queen and all I ask for in return is obedience, perhaps love in time.” She heard this kind of proclamation way too many times for it to waver her.

“Well, I certainly did not ask for it.” She clasped her hands together, aiming to leave the room and find her cousin.

“Sit your ass back down. I’m not done.”

Y/N froze at Yoongi’s command, her muscles tensing as she slowly turned back to face him. Despite her inner turmoil, she complied, sinking back into the chair with a heavy sigh.

“You needn’t tell her to run. I have no intention to hurt her in particular. She played her part.”

“What else do you want from me, Yoongi?” she asked, her voice laced with frustration and exhaustion, not believing a word he was saying. “Haven’t you taken enough?”

“You needn’t concern yourself with her fate. Focus on your own.” Y/N’s heart sank at his words.

“I want you to see that everything I do, I do for us. For our future.” Y/N’s eyes narrowed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. Yoongi’s jaw clenched, his frustration palpable.

“I won’t be a part of your game anymore, Yoongi,” she declared, her voice unwavering. “I won’t—” a knock on the double door echoed, interrupting her.

Yoongi’s gaze flickered towards the door, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his features before he composed himself.

“Come in,” he called out, his voice firm. The siblings came just in time. Afterall, the Kkangpae requested their presence.

Dayiu’s eyes were red and swollen, a testament to the grief she carried, while Kai’s expression was hardened, unknowingly walking to a trap.

She greeted the young Kkangpae with a respectful bow. Kai remained silent, his eyes darting between Yoongi and Y/N.

Y/N watched the interaction, her earlier confrontation with Yoongi momentarily set aside in the face of a new development.

The room teetered on the edge of chaos she obviously did not see coming, and the consequences of this confrontation were poised to reshape the dynamics in their relationship. For good, he hoped.

They exchanged small talk with their leader while Y/N sat there silently. Only now and then did she raise a sympathetic look Daiyu’s way. She did not have a chance to speak with her since Chan-yeol drugged her and sold her out just to betray the very same man months later.

Y/N wished to apologise for every single unpleasant discontent she caused to her because of the fire she burnt Yoongi with.

Leaning in close to Daiyu, Y/N whispered her apologies, her words a quiet admission of remorse for the pain she had inadvertently caused.

She reached out, squeezing Y/N’s hand in a gesture of understanding her desire to live her life the way she wants. Daiyu shares the same ambition now that her husband is no longer in the picture. But that is, of course, not going to be granted.

As she was not paying attention to what Yoongi and Kai are further discussing, a mistake on her part. The next shocked her to the core.

Kai went to stand up just to be sent flying to the ground by Yoongi knocking him down. Y/N’s heart lurched with horror.

“Yoongi, what the fuck!” Y/N yelled, shielding Daiyu with her body.

“Missus Park?” Yoongi called. “I would rather you not stay for the next couple of moments.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at Yoongi’s words.

“You see, Missus Park. I need to show my wife just how much my threats are not empty.” His voice was full of violence and Y/N’s heart pounded too loud and hard. She shot a concerned look at Daiyu, silently communicating her support and urging her to leave the room.

“Both of you. Leave, right now!” With a nod of understanding, Dayiu rose from her seat, casting a final glance at Y/N before quietly exiting the room. Panic surged through her veins as she watched Daiyu leave the room, her gaze fixing on Kai, struggling to stand up and run, his eyes reflecting fear.

Yoongi’s gaze locked onto hers, his expression dark and foreboding. She knew she couldn’t escape his wrath, not now.

“Yoongi, stop!” Her palms blunt against his torso, trying to stop him from proceeding further, just to be pushed back to the armchair, little too hard than Yoongi intended to. His mind and fists aimed at the younger boy’s face. Her words fell on deaf ears as Yoongi continued his assault, his rage unchecked and his fury unleashed.

The sickening sound of bone crunching beneath his blows and painful cries from Kai’s mouth was haunting the room. Yoongi dragged him to the nearest wall and pressed his head tightly to the concrete with his hand. The skin of his knuckles was torn and full of blood. Not as much blood as Kai’s face produced after being beaten numerous times. Kai’s painful cry got louder once Yoongi kept pressing his cheek to the wall.

With each crunch of bone and each agonised cry that echoed through the room, Y/N’s desperation grew. She knew she had to act, to do something to protect Kai from further harm.

“Yoongi, this is all me. Punish me!” She scrambled to her feet, her hands shaking with fear and adrenaline as she desperately tried to intervene, to stop Yoongi from inflicting any more harm on Kai. She did not expect him to take a hit on Kai, he followed his orders thoroughly, the younger boy even pledged his loyalty to him. Y/N's mind scratched his name from the list, another mistake on her part.

Y/N’s voice cracked with emotion as she made her desperate plea, hoping to redirect Yoongi’s rage away from Kai and onto herself. She knew she was risking everything by putting herself in the line of fire, but she couldn’t bear to see Kai suffer any longer.

“I was thinking you know—” said the scarred leader. With each passing moment, the weight of their situation pressed down on her, threatening to suffocate her with its overwhelming intensity.

“Forbidding you from this and that won’t work on you nor killing a worthless maid—”

Yoongi’s voice trailed off, his gaze turning back to Kai, whose head was battered and bloodied pressed to the wall, so painful that his consciousness was waning. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she waited for Yoongi’s next move, unsure of what to expect.

“—but hurting someone you care about...” His voice was chilling, the threat implicit in his words. Y/N’s blood ran cold as she realised the full extent of Yoongi’s intentions. He was using Kai as a pawn in his twisted game, manipulating her emotions to bend her to his will.

“His life and blood are on your hands, love.”

She looked into Kai’s eyes, seeing the pain and terror reflected in them, knowing that his fate now rested in her hands. Yoongi did not plan to kill him altogether, he just wanted her to succumb to submission and obedience.

“No, Yoongi, please!” she pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion. But Yoongi’s expression remained cold and impassive, his resolve unyielding. She felt as though her soul was being torn apart, torn between her love for Kai and her desperate need to protect him.

She had had enough. She had seen enough. And she was ready to give up her life to save his. Y/N thought about this option way too often lately. Whether her sacrifice would be enough to save Kai from further harm remained to be seen.

In that moment of desperation and despair, Y/N’s mind raced as she weighed her options. The thought of sacrificing herself to protect Kai from further harm consumed her thoughts, and with a sense of grim determination, she reached for the same unfortunate knife that saved her from her father’s wrath before.

With a steady hand, she withdrew the weapon, its cold metal glinting in the dim light of the room.

“Y/N…” he had to look back at her twice before he realised what was going on. Yoongi’s gaze flickered toward her, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes as he realised her intentions. But before he could react, Y/N pressed the blade against her own throat, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and resolve.

“Let him go Yoongi, or I swear I will do it,” she declared, her voice quavering but firm. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they all grappled with the gravity of the situation. Y/N waited, her hand steady against her throat, her gaze unwavering as she dared Yoongi to make his next move.

Yoongi’s hand left the already fractured skull of his wife’s cousin, and Kai slumped down by the wall, grunting loudly. The scarred leader who thought is holding the young gal in chess mate was taken aback by the sudden turn of events.

“I let him go, baby, now put the blade away.” Y/N hesitated, her grip on the sharp letter opener tightening involuntarily.

The rush of adrenaline had drowned out her fear momentarily, leaving her with a fierce determination to stand her ground.

“No,” she said firmly, her voice tinged with defiance. Yoongi took a step towards her small form. Her eyes crimson red, tears streaming down as she said that.

“We can talk—”

“It always starts with a talk, Yoongi, doesn't it?” Y/N interrupted, her voice trembling with emotion but her resolve unwavering. She held the knife steady, its blade gleaming in the dim light of the room.

Yoongi’s expression darkened, a mixture of frustration and anger flashing across his features. He took another step closer, his gaze locked on Y/N’s determined face. He was afraid and the young leader was only afraid of one thing. Losing her.

“Love, fuck, please I beg you to put it down, baby.” Y/N shook her head again.

“I told you I am your weakness, Yoongi, now you see for yourself.”

For the first time in a long time, Yoongi felt truly afraid. Not for himself, but for Y/N. He knew that he had pushed her too far, that his actions had driven her to this desperate act. And as he stood before her, pleading to put down the knife, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that he had already lost her.

He had always prided himself on his ability to maintain control in any situation, but now, faced with the prospect of losing Y/N, he felt powerless. He made her go mad.

As Yoongi reached out his hand towards her, a silent plea in his eyes, Y/N knew she couldn’t back down. It is him who will never learn, not her. Pressing the knife tighter, piercing the first layer of the skin, painting the blade red. A thin crimson line trickled down her neck making Yoongi’s eyes widen in panic. She could not feel a thing through the adrenaline and post traumatic experience from the events that led her to close her mind and not feel, her eyes were still fixated on him and how terrified he looked.

“Y/N, please,-” he begged, his voice raw with emotion. Now it was her who remained unmoved, her eyes blazing with defiance as she held her ground.

“Say it, Yoongi.” She declared. Giving him the taste of his own medicine. And the dark sickening part of Yoongi knew that he had finally met his match. She wanted him to suffer just as much as he made her suffer.

“I’m so sorry, love,-” what he always forced her to say, thinking he is teaching her of accountability, now left his lips. Yet, he could never be accountable for his own actions, could he?

“You’ve taken my life from me!” her voice filled with bitterness and resentment.

“I know,-” he whispered, gulping down the lump in his throat. His voice was heavy with remorse that did not reach sincerity. “And I will spend the rest of my life trying—”

“Fuck you! You are like a broken record, a lying one!” She had seen through his façade, seen the darkness that lurked beneath his composed exterior, and she refused to let him off the hook so easily. But he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, couldn’t bear the thought of spending the rest of his life haunted by the memories of what he had done.

“I will do everythi—”

“But you will never let me go.”

For a moment, Yoongi was speechless, his mind racing as he grappled with the realisation that he had pushed her too far. There were no words he could say to make her put the blade down from her neck. The absence of words only confirmed hers.

“The only blood I shall have on my hands shall be mine.”

He immediately crossed the distance to reach out - to stop her - to tell her that he would do anything to make things right, but he knew it was too late for that.

“NO!”

With a desperate scream from his mouth, Yoongi watched as Y/N swiftly swiped the blade against her own skin, cutting deeper, painting the qipao embroidered with pink roses and green leaves she was clad in crimson red with her hot blood.

author's note: sheesh, here we go, i thought that no chapter will be hard for me to write since the last one, but this one did a number on me tbh. But more importantly for yall my beautiful chummers, if you feel like this is the end you imagined for lacrimosa and y/n, I strongly encourage you to not proceed to read the following chapters. Not every piece of media is meant for everybody and I totally respect if the way in which will lacrimosa continue won't be everyone's cup of tea or simply not the trope they wanted. I hold the pen and I love yall, I won't change the outline of lacrimosa I planned because of relativity tho. Therefore, those who are satisfied with this kind of ending - I love you, I'm grateful, and I thank you hundred times that you took the time to read this fic. Those who wants to follow the "couple" a bit more, stay tuned and patient for other chapters. I love you 🫧♡ ︎

shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter!

Love you all!! ♥

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers 🫧♡ ︎

lots of love, p.

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