#seokjin fantasy

[borathae]

“They were brothers brought together by tragedy and best friends separated by destiny. Seokjin, now freed of his Raven mark and unaware of his little brother’s whereabouts, visits the Queen’s castle with promises of healing the other freed Ravens. Jungkook, now living his life as the Queen’s Consort and uninformed of Seokjin’s fate, doesn’t know that today will be the day he will finally reunite with his bigger brother.”

Pairing: Best Friends!Jungkook x Seokjin | Seokjin x f.Reader OC 1 | Jungkook x f.Reader OC 2

Genre: Fantasy!AU, Slice of Life, Childhood Best Friends!AU, Found Family!AU, Royalty!AU, Queen Consort!Jungkook, Healer!Seokjin

Warnings: there is plot hehehe, they're best friends who got separated only to reunite again!!, they're like brothers, they share & talk about past trauma, hinted child abuse (they experienced it), but more than anyhing this is so healing and soft and lovely, Jungkook shows Seokjin the castle and Seokjin is all like "my lil bro is royalty now <3", they love each other so much like you guys they're brothers!!, they also bicker in typical jinkook fashion <3, i love this story so much you guys

Wordcount: 11.1k

a/n: because this is based on (and set after) their main stories, the boys each have a female lover which i won't name here because in their main stories it's supposed to be the reader but as a different OC each, you get me? i know you do. if you don't, just read their stories and come back to this. okay then, enjoy besties! istfg i love this universe so much :(

𓄿 Index 𓄿

Seokjin is nervous. It was his idea and yet he is still terribly nervous. He hasn’t been back in the castle since he climbed the walls and fled. It has been thirteen full moons since then and also thirteen full moons since he found his true destiny. She is with him today, because she will do most of the talking and work while he will assist her. She found him washed up by the riverbank next to her house and took him in. He was lucky because she was a healer – the trusted healer of the Queen even – and despite his past, she nurtured him until he felt whole again. His past, Seokjin aches in guilt when he thinks about it, is also the reason why he felt so nervous about today despite it being his idea.

He was a Raven once. A Raven of the Black Forest. The Ravens are a group of young boys and men poisoned by the twisted worldviews of their cruel leader Rafkan. He is one of the Nïuri, a peaceful people which use their immortality to nurture the earth, but not Rafkan as he uses his immortality to ruin young boys’ futures and kill innocent people. A black tattoo of a raven brands the members of Rafkan’s group and lets everyone know that the wearer was unlucky enough to fall into Rafkan’s hands.

Seokjin thankfully escaped his claws and managed to free himself of the marks which once ruined his chest.

The reason for today’s visit to the Queen’s castle was based on this exact mark. Most Ravens didn’t want to get tattooed. Most were not older than five when Rafkan drilled the tattoo deep under their skin, ignoring their screams of pain and cries for mercy. Seokjin still remembers how he screamed and cried as the thick needle repeatedly punctured his skin. He was seven.

With the help of Seokjin’s true destiny and forever partner, he was able to rid himself of the mark and he wants to grant the same opportunity to his fellow freed Ravens. It is well known in the Queendom that the Queen’s castle serves as refuge for many Ravens, who were lucky enough to escape Rafkan’s poisoned grip. Although Rafkan still tells his boys that the Queen and her late mother kill Ravens for sports, it isn’t the truth. Ravens get a second chance at the castle. They are free to stay in her castle and they are free to leave to wherever they crave to go. Seokjin could have stayed as well and he could have left if he wanted to, but back then he was still too stubborn to see that. So he fled in the dark of the night, swearing to himself never to return to the castle.

And now he is back. He is back at the place he swore never return to, but he isn’t guilty, he is just so very nervous. What if his idea fails? What if the marks of his freed brothers won’t fade? Seokjin watched it with own two eyes as his love removed it from his chest and yet he is scared that somehow the healing spell won’t work today.

There are also other worries plaguing him. He worries that he won’t be welcome at the castle anymore. That he will be captured and thrown into prison. His love assured him that this won’t happen, as she knows the Queen to be of very forgiving nature, but Seokjin was still nervous. He has been clutching his love’s hand ever since the castle gates came into view.

“Don’t be scared, my dearest”, she tells him, giving him a reassuring smile.

“I know, but I truly am. I do not want to be thrown into prison”, he says.

“There is no reason for that. Yes, you left in secrecy, but if the queen sees that you used your freedom to find happiness and a purpose, she will be happy”, she says and pulls him closer, “you will be alright, my dearest. And perhaps if we are lucky, Jungkook will be there as well.”

Seokjin smiles at the mention of his lost brother. He is happy, but he also aches. This is the last worry which plagues him and which makes it difficult for his heart to beat normally.

What if Jungkook wasn’t in the castle? What if he is still caught in Rafkan’s fangs? What if he didn’t find freedom? What if he died?

Seokjin spent his night sleepless and repeating the worrying questions over and over again. He is so scared. So, so scared that today’s journey will bring news of grief for him.

The Queen knew of the healer’s visit to the castle. She sent a letter a week ago, telling her that she had a cure for the Raven mark and that she can offer her services to the freed Ravens living in the castle. The Queen instantly agreed and sent word to all neighbouring villages that whoever wanted to rid himself of his marks may do so in one week. The halls and courtyard are buzzing in life. Ravens, who haven’t seen each other in years have come to the castle, celebrating their near future of true freedom. The emotions were high and food was plenty.

Jungkook has been excited all day. He was the first to know of the healer’s arrival. The letter met his love at night when they were already in bed, getting ready for sleep. She opened it next to him and then began crying in happiness.

“What’s the matter, my destiny?” Jungkook asked her back then, feeling worried until she told him of the good news and Jungkook joined her in her tears of happiness. Being freed of the mark was all he dreamt of ever since he escaped Rafkan and in a week he will finally make his dream a reality.

Today was finally the day. The healer will arrive any second now and Jungkook will finally be free. Truly and visibly free. He has been spending his day talking to all his fellow Ravens. Many still lived in the castle and became his friends, but many came from the villages and towns and felt more like distant relatives to Jungkook. Today however they all felt connected and high in spirits.

Jungkook has already drunk two mugs of mead and ate way too much of the flavourful pork belly. He feels overjoyed, but also very needing of the bathroom.

He excuses himself from the courtyard to hurry inside.

“My starlight, there you are”, the Queen - and his fiancée - greets him inside, taking his hands, “I looked everywhere for you.”

“Forgive me, I was in the courtyard talking to all of my brothers.”

Jungkook gives her a kiss on the cheek because he loves her a lot. She leans into the kiss with her fingers squeezing his hands.

“Don’t apologise. I merely wanted to tell you that the healer and her apprentice will be here soon. Our warriors saw them coming up the roads.”

“Really? Oh heavens, I need to hurry up then”, Jungkook says, slipping his hands out of his finacée’s loving hold.

“Why? What are you doing?”

“I need to relieve myself. I drank too much and my bladder is going to burst.”

“Oh heavens, well”, she chuckles, “hurry up then, you precious boy you”, she says and gives his butt a gentle pat as if too speed up his steps.

“I will, worry not”, Jungkook says and hurries away in hasty steps.

He will reach the toiletries in time with the healer and Seokjin arriving at the castle. He will be relieving himself as the Queen welcomes them with smiles and music. And he will wash his hands thoroughly as the healer and Seokjin set up their healing station and the Ravens begin lining up for their freedom. He doesn’t know of Seokjin yet.

Truly, it is such an awful twist of fate that Jungkook’s bladder decided to give up mere seconds before Seokjin entered the courtyard. The dark haired healer scans his eyes over the dozens and dozens faces, hoping to see the face of his brother in them. He knows most of the Ravens gathered here and the joy of seeing them is grande, but none of them was Jungkook. Jungkook was special to Seokjin. Jungkook was like a little brother to Seokjin. 

Only five years younger than Seokjin and with fear in his big eyes, Jungkook became a Raven when Seokjin was ten years of age. Jungkook hid the moment Rafkan and the older Ravens left him at the camp to hunt for food. Jungkook refused to come out of hiding for hours. Even when dinner was promised, he didn’t leave his hiding spot, which ended in Rafkan punishing him for “ignoring his body’s needs”.

Seokjin and the other boys always had to watch when one of them was punished and Jungkook’s punishment was no exception. Seokjin always felt terrible when he watched his fellow young brothers cry because of what Rafkan did, but there was something about Jungkook crying that night which hit Seokjin especially hard. The poor, frightened boy hid again the second the punishment was finished and only his small, pained sobs were heard in the camp. The other boys were too frightened to check up on him, but Seokjin was overtaken with a sense of protectiveness and so he crawled under the thorny bushes Jungkook was hiding in and offered the younger boy a hug. Jungkook didn’t want to take it at first, but all it took was one smile from Seokjin and he fell into his arms and cried his broken heart out.

Ever since that night, Seokjin and Jungkook shared a special bond and a deep, honest love. They hugged each other when they were sad or scared or in pain, they shared every meal with each other, shared blankets when the nights were cold, shared laughter when the days weren’t as dark and shared every stage a young boy goes through as he grows into a man. They would have shared adulthood as well, but Seokjin decided to leave to kill the Queen and till this day he regrets leaving without Jungkook.

Their last conversation ended in anger and hurtful words. Rafkan managed to influence Jungkook and poison his mind. Seokjin never truly allowed the poison to take hold of him and wanted to use the opportunity to flee together from Rafkan. So he told Jungkook of his plans and had to realise that his younger brother met it with anger and resentment. They fought, Jungkook called him hurtful things and Seokjin left without Jungkook. Until this day, Seokjin regrets that he left that night, that he didn’t try harder to convince his little brother and that he left even when the last words they shared were of angry nature.

If Seokjin has to realise that Jungkook wasn’t at the castle or that he had already died, he won’t ever forgive himself and he might never truly be himself again.

Seokjin shifts in his seat restlessly. He and his love have already healed ten Ravens of their marks and yet he still hasn’t spotted Jungkook. He asked each of them if they knew of Jungkook, but most were too old to know of him. They must have been Ravens before their time. Perhaps the Queen’s mother rescued them when she was still alive.

The Queen hasn’t come back either. She excused herself once she exchanged a few friendly words with Seokjin and his love and hasn’t returned since. Seokjin grows worried that she had went to get her warriors. After all, she looked at him as if she saw a ghost and then spoke of needing to go.

Seokjin keeps scanning the crowd for warriors out to get him and for Jungkook. Truly, he might need to excuse himself to the toiletries soon for his stomach keeps twisting in nervousness.

He sees the Queen then. She is hurrying over the courtyard with a man by her side. His face is shielded from his vision, but he can see that she is holding his hand. Seokjin gulps. He can’t explain it, but he feels uncomfortably nervous all of a sudden. Anxious even.

“Hello.”

One of the freed Ravens drags his attention away. He sits down in front of him and presents his bared chest to him.

“You have no idea for how many years I dreamt of ridding myself of this cursed mark”, he says.

“Oh, I know how you feel”, Seokjin says and begins spreading the purple cream on the man’s chest, “what’s your name?”

“Bartholomew.”

Seokjin gasps, looking at him with widened eyes.

“Bartholomew?”

He laughs, “you didn’t recognize me, did you? I blame the good food in the castle. I eat wonderfully these days”, he says and slaps his belly as a happy laugh shakes his shoulders.

“I didn’t recognize you. You look so healthy”, Seokjin says and bites back tears, “I can’t believe my eyes. You survived.”

“As did you, sweet boy”, Bartholomew says and caresses Seokjin’s cheek, “you look healthy, my boy.”

“I am. I am so healthy and I’m in love”, Seokjin says, sending his love a chaste look.

Bartholomew smiles, “this is good. Yes, love makes the life sweet. I’m in love as well. His name is Derrec. He’s a weaver in town and we met as I shopped for fabrics.”

“This is so wonderful. Oh, I am so happy for you”, Seokjin says and pulls his hand back, “you can go to my love and she will activate the magic. Your mark will be gone once you wipe the cream.”

“Oh, I can’t believe that I can still witness this day”, Bartholomew says and stands up from his chair.

“Bartholomew?” Seokjin calls his attention one last time.

“Yes, Seokjin?”

“Did you…” gulps in nervousness, “did Jungkook come here?”

“Jungkook?” Bartholomew says and widens his eyes, “my sweet boy, you do not know yet?”

“Know what?” Seokjin jumps off his chair, “what happened to him? P-please what happened?”

Bartholomew shifts his eyes to his side. Seokjin follows his line of sight and feels hit in shock.

The Queen is before him and the man holding her hand is Jungkook.

“Brother”, he presses out as his eyes fill with tears.

“Brother”, Seokjin gets out and sobs, “are you real?”

Jungkook nods his head vigorously and sobs.

“Jungkook….”

“Seokjin….”

Seokjin rounds the table, Jungkook breaks away from his fiancée. They fall into each other’s arms, crying miserably as they tighten the hug as best as their bodies allow it. Seokjin forgets all about the cream on his fingers, smearing it into Jungkook’s hair as he holds his little brother closer. Jungkook doesn’t care about the state of his hair as he sobs into the crook of Seokjin’s neck and cradles the back of his older brother’s head.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I said that night. I’m so sorry”, Jungkook wails.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m not angry. Oh, I’m sorry for leaving you. I’m so sorry, I never should have left”, Seokjin cries.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry at you. Not anymore. Seokjin”, Jungkook sobs and pulls him closer, “oh Seokjin, you’re real. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Oh Jungkook, my brother”, Seokjin sobs and turns his head to kiss Jungkook’s ear. It is the first thing his lips grazed and Jungkook leans into the kiss as a sob and laugh leaves him at the same time. Seokjin laughs with him just as much as he sobs.

All his worries turned out to be exactly that. Worries. Jungkook is alive. He is well. He is free. And he is finally by his side again. Seokjin has his little brother back.

He has to take a step back and cradle Jungkook’s face. The latter leans into the touch. His face is contorted in sobs, but the happiness practically bounces off of him. Seokjin mirrors his state, rubbing his thumbs over Jungkook’s teary cheeks over and over again.

“You’re real”, he gets out, “and you look so healthy. Oh Jungkook, you look so healthy.”

“You look healthy too”, Jungkook answers him, cupping his cheeks, “brother, your cheeks are actually soft. Not fallen in from hunger.”

“As are yours”, Seokjin squishes Jungkook’s cheeks, “are you eating well? Are you warm? Can you sleep in peace?”

Jungkook nods his head vigorously, “yes, yes. Yes to everything. And you? Are you living well?”

“Yes, oh yes I am.”

Jungkook whimpers and smiles, spilling tears.

“I’m so happy”, he confesses in a squeaky voice.

“Me too. Come here”, Seokjin says and pulls him back into a tight hug.

Jungkook squeaks in laughter, hugging him back. The two men stumble as they hug, painting a little circle with their feet as if they were dancing. Their bodies were filled with too much happiness. Only moving around could help them relieve it. 

It is Jungkook who breaks the hug, holding Seokjin’s cheeks.

“Did you become a healer? Is that your destiny?”

“Yes. Yes it is. Oh Jungkook, I am so happy and I’m in love.”

Jungkook’s eyes lighten up, “you are?”

“Yes. Jungkook, please meet my love”, Seokjin says and turns his little brother to his love. He tells him her name and Jungkook repeats it with a smile.

“I know you. My fiancée talks greatly about you and I truly love your bathing oils when the sickness season arrives”, Jungkook says, bowing his head at her.

“Oh thank-”

“Your fiancée?!” Seokjin falls into her words accidentally for Jungkook’s confession shocked him greatly, “you found love as well? Who is she?”

“That would be me”, the Queen says and for just a moment, Seokjin feels unable to speak. He gawks at the Queen, knowing that it was rude to do so, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“What?” he gets out and parts his lips.

The Queen smiles fondly, while Jungkook lets out a giddy giggle.

“Yes, you heard correctly. We are soon to be married”, he says and hugs her waist as he squishes his cheek against hers, “she asked me to be her husband a month ago and I said yes. We ought to marry in autumn, but don’t spread the news yet. We want to announce it soon.” 

“I do not know what to say. Jungkook”, Seokjin steps closer, “my dearest Jungkook, you are engaged and, and. And you’re marrying the Queen?!”

“Yes. Yes, I am”, Jungkook giggles.

“Oh Jungkook”, Seokjin tears up, “I am so happy for you.”

“Don’t cry”, Jungkook says even if his own eyes are glassy. He lets go of the Queen to take Seokjin’s hands instead, “it was you who made it possible. If you hadn’t left that night, I never would have left as well and I never would have found my destiny.”

“What do you say? I barely did anything.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “I volunteered to leave because I wanted to find you”, he confesses and tears up, “I was frightened without you, I regretted our last night together and I was scared that I would never see you again, so I volunteered to be the next to leave so I could look for you. I am sorry that I never found you.”

“Jungkook….”

“Seokjin”, Jungkook breathes.

“Oh my little one”, Seokjin says and cradles Jungkook’s cheeks. Jungkook leans into his touch with sparkly, half-lidded eyes, “you do not apologize to me. Please, allow me to get rid of your mark. It is the least I can do to repent for leaving you that night.”

“I dreamt of this day. I dreamt of ridding myself of the mark”, Jungkook confesses. 

“And it will become reality soon. Sit. Sit right here and I will free you.” 

Jungkook allows Seokjin to sit him down on a chair and because it was Jungkook, Seokjin sits him down on his chair behind the table. He prepares the cream while Jungkook unbuttons his expensive tunic. 

The Queen is by his side, caressing his shoulder. Jungkook places his hand over hers’, looking at Seokjin with his chest bare.

“Are you nervous?”

“No. I can’t wait for it.”

“It will become very warm. Hot almost.”

Jungkook squeezes the Queen’s hand, “I can take it”, he says with a smile. 

Seokjin moves his fingers closer to Jungkook’s chest. He is trembling. Jungkook meets his eyes 

“Are you nervous?” he asks Seokjin.

“I am.”

“Why?”

“I am frightened that it won’t work all of a sudden.”

“I am certain that it will”, the Queen throws in with warmth in her eyes.

“Yes, me too”, Jungkook agrees and smiles, “I trust in your abilities and that of your love”, he says and looks at the healer with a smile.

One she retorts. Work at the table has stopped ever since Jungkook arrived here. Everyone understood. Not only because Jungkook was soon to be Queen Consort and therefore important, but also because the emotional reunion between two separated brothers moved many Ravens to tears. They shared their emotions well. Some knew exactly how such a reunion feels like, while others still wished for the experience. 

The Ravens closest to the table are watching as Seokjin spreads the purple cream on Jungkook’s chest. 

“It is done”, he says and turns to his partner, “my world, may you do the rest, please?”

“Of course”, she says and stands up. She bends down in front of Jungkook, meeting his eyes. 

Jungkook spots warmth and comfort in her eyes. He understands why Seokjin loves her, because goodness surrounds her. Seokjin has always had a good heart, of course he would fall for someone with a kind heart. 

“May I?” she asks.

Jungkook turns his head to look at his fiancée. She smiles, squeezing his shoulder gently. Jungkook retorts her smile and looks back at the healer.

“Yes.”

With his consent, she hovers her hands over his chest and whispers ancient words of healing. The cream begins heating up on his chest. 

“Oh?” he lets out, furrowing his brows in surprise.

“Is it bearable? It will still get hotter”, she makes sure.

“Yes, it’s just really warm”, Jungkook says and shifts. The Queen gives his shoulder little caresses of encouragement, “oh. Oh, it’s getting very warm. Oh, it feels really hot.”

“You are almost done”, Seokjin says and holds his hand, “you are very brave.”

Jungkook forgets all about the discomfort and looks at Seokjin. The familiarity of those words. It tightens his throat in emotion. Seokjin said them to him countless times before when they were children and Jungkook needed comfort. When he woke after a nightmare about his dead parents and cried in Seokjin’s arms, he always whispered them to him. When he hid and sobbed after a punishment, Seokjin always found him and said them to him as he mended his wounds. When the Black Forest shook his body in fear and the two boys stayed with each other for support, Seokjin repeated them like a mantra until the monsters didn’t feel so scary anymore. They fell often between the two boys and yet they never lost their meaning. Jungkook missed hearing them and in this moment he feels as if he could do anything.

“It is done.”

“Really? Already?” 

Seokjin nods his head.

Jungkook looks at the piece of cloth Seokjin offers him.

“Wipe the cream away.”

Jungkook slips his hand from the Queen’s loving hold and accepts the cloth. He looks at his own chest as best as possible and wipes at the cream. It is an easy task to remove it.

“No”, Jungkook gasps, tearing up, “the mark is gone”, he whispers and looks at Seokjin, “it is gone”, he gets out and looks at the Queen, “my mark is gone!”

“Truly?” she gasps and rounds him so she could look at his chest, “Jungkook”, she chokes out and cups his cheeks. She spills tears, “your mark is gone.”

“It is gone”, he repeats and cups her face. He stands up and pulls her into a kiss.

Seokjin turns away for now, wanting to be respectful. He closes in on his own love and rests his chin on her shoulder, hugging her waist gently. She rubs her hand up and down his lower back, resting her head against his’.

“We are doing something good here”, he whispers.

“We are”, she agrees and turns her head to give his lips a chaste kiss, “are you happy?”

“Yes”, Seokjin smiles a soft smile. The kind which lifts his cheeks, “I found Jungkook.”

“I know. I am so happy for you that I feel like crying.”

“Seokjin”, Jungkook interrupts their moment, “my mark is gone!”

Seokjin breaks away from his love and looks at Jungkook. The younger man is smiling brightly, bouncing on the spot.

“I know. How do you feel?”

“Free. I feel finally truly free.”

“You are.”

Jungkook laughs and falls around Seokjin’s neck, “we are free.”

“We are. We are free”, Seokjin agrees and hugs his little brother.

“You will all be free soon”, the Queen says to the waiting Ravens, “now come my friends and get your marks removed. We held up your freedom for too long.”

“We didn’t mind, my Queen!” one of the Ravens screams from the back. The others agree with nods of their heads and smiles on their faces.

The Queen claims the chair Seokjin sat in before and picks up the bowl of purple cream.

“Come now, come”, she calls the next Raven to the table.

“My Queen?” he seems confused, but she merely smiles at him.

“I am certain that Seokjin and Jungkook have lots of catching up to do”, she says, grinning at Seokjin and her fiance.

Jungkook nods his head, while Seokjin looks at her shyly.

“I will take over for Seokjin so he can talk to my starlight”, she explains and points at the chair opposite of her, “now sit down and receive your true freedom.”

“Yes, my Queen. Oh, I feel honoured”, he says with a giggle, “I am helped by the Queen. I will tell my Mahryon about it.”

“Yes? How is the sweet woman?”

“Same old, same old. She started…”

Their conversation dies out in their ears as Jungkook turns Seokjin to the healer.

“Can I steal him away?” he asks her.

“Of course. You two have lots of catching up to do.”

“Are you certain? I do not want to burden you”, Seokjin makes sure.

“I am certain. Go, my beloved. I have my friend helping me”, she says.

“Thank you so much”, he says and kisses her lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I promise to return him by nightfall”, Jungkook jokes, making her laugh.

She rubs his arm sisterly, “I am certain you will.”

He gives her one last grin then turns to Seokjin.

“Do you want to see my rooms?”

“Of course I do.”

“Come, follow me.”

The Queen and the healer watch as the two men hurry over the courtyard. They managed around half of the way when they watch Seokjin take Jungkook into a gentle headlock, which the younger man fights off with gentle punches into Seokjin’s side. The two men continue to stumble to the castle as they playfight each other. It is as if no time had passed between them.

“I am happy that they found each other again”, the Queen says.

“Yes, me too. Brighter days will be on the horizon for them.”

“Indeed, there will be.”

Jungkook turns, holding the golden door knob between his fingers. Seokjin is looking at him after having scanned the hallways. The castle hasn’t changed since the last time he was here. At least not what the eye can see, the heart can sense times of love in those hallways. Jungkook and his love must have filled them up day by day.

“Welcome to my chambers”, Jungkook says and opens the door. He steps inside the room. Seokjin follows, letting out gasps of utter bafflement. 

Jungkook closes the door and bounces as he rounds Seokjin.

“And? What do you think?” 

Seokjin doesn’t know where to look first. Jungkook’s room looks like a golden dream of riches and wealth. The stone walls were covered in oil paintings and hand-woven tapestry. One even showed Jungkook’s portrait in warm colours. Golden thread framed the portrait in shapes of ornamental flowers and leaves. The otherwise cold stone floors were covered in thick hand knotted carpets all held in shades of red, green and gold and warm furs truly managed to keep the cold from meeting the feet. Thick curtains framed the windows and the same fabric - it looked expensive - also served as curtains for Jungkook’s bed.

The bed was of impressive size. Made from the sturdiest of wood and with a canopy. Countless pillows covered the head end of the bed and a warm blanket was placed neatly over the mattress for later use. 

“I don’t know what to say. This is….”

“Do you like them? These are my chambers. I spend some time here, but I must confess that I spend more time in my fiancée’s room”, Jungkook explains and giggles, “I love to hold her as we fall asleep.”

“I understand you so well. I love to hold mine as well”, Seokjin says and continues to scan the room, “I can’t believe my own eyes…”

There is a fireplace in one corner of the room. A red chaise lounge asks to be used right in front of it and a small side table made of sturdy wood offers jugs of wines and meads. In another corner, a working table offered heaps of books and stacks of drawings. Jungkook seems to use it for art and studying. Sturdy bookcases were filled with books, art supplies and expensive trinkets and in handmade wall mount, Jungkook’s swords were presented.

“Do you like it? You are so quiet”, Jungkook asks, fumbling nervously.

“Because I am lost for words. All of this…it looks so…so expensive.” 

“It is. I think. She doesn’t tell me how much she spends on me”, Jungkook shies away, “I think it’s a lot.” 

Seokjin meets his eyes. Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed. Seokjin smiles.

“Good. You deserve all the riches in the world.” 

“Oh, uhm”, Jungkook flusters. He clears his throat, “I want to show you more. Look what I have.” 

Seokjin follows him past some sturdy curtains of red fabric into a spacious bathing room.

“This is bigger than both our bedroom and bathing room together”, Seokjin gasps, widening his eyes.

“It is so big, isn’t it?” Jungkook agrees with a laugh, “and look. In all these shelves I store my jewellery. She always gets me stuff, even though I never ask for them. I don’t store my clothing here because I have my own room for them and Bartholomew tells me that it is important to keep fabrics away from moist bathing air because of mould, but I like to keep my jewellery here because then I can come here and look at them.”

“This is just….wow…”

“Then over here is where I take care of my skin”, Jungkook says and sits down in front of his mirror table. He mimics applying cream on his face, pouting for it, “like this. And then I go like this and pat it in”, he says, slapping his own cheeks gently, “and then one of my servants brushes my hair or I have my love brush my hair. I really like it when she does that.”

Jungkook stands up and hurries to his bathing room chaise lounge. He lies down on it, stretching out his legs. 

“This is where I lie when I do a facial pack and someone massages my feet”, he sits up, “did you know that all of your body’s zones are connected to your feet and that by regularly massaging them, you become healthier?”

“I did. I learned about it during my apprenticeship”, Seokjin says.

“Isn’t it remarkable?” 

“It is”, Seokjin says and looks at the bathtub, “you even have a tub. You truly have everything, haven’t you?” 

“Ah yes, this is my tub”, Jungkook says, scrambling to his feet. He runs to it and slaps his hand on its edge. It makes a metal sound of impact, “I take baths with my love in here. We love to use your bathing oils.” 

“You do?”

Jungkook nods his head excitedly, “my favourites are vanilla and wolf lily. I think they smell really nice.”

“Thank you”, Seokjin says and lowers his head as he studies the bathtub. He strokes his hand over the edge.

Jungkook gnaws on his lower lip nervously, taking a small step closer.

“Do you not like it?” he asks quietly.

“No, no it’s not that”, Seokjin says, shaking his head.

“But?”

“I always wanted to have a bathtub.”

“Do you not possess one?” Jungkook gasps.

“No. Well, at least not yet. We are trying to save up as much as possible, but a good bathtub is expensive these days. We want one in which we both fit.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Jungkook says and takes Seokjin’s hands so he can sway them excitedly, “I can buy you whatever bathtub you wish for.” 

“What? No”, Seokjin shakes his head, “no, you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.”

“No, Jungkook no. This, this”, Seokjin exhales sharply, “these are your riches. I do not want to rob you of them.” 

“Rob me?” Jungkook snickers, “you could never rob me. You’re my brother”, he smiles sweetly.

Seokjin feels his heart warm at the sight.

“And I want you to possess the grandest, most luxurious bathtub in the whole Queendom. No”, he grins, “the whole continent.” 

Seokjin smiles, letting out a breathy chuckle of fondness. Jungkook snickers, scrunching his nose.

“Sooo? What say you?” he asks, nudging Seokjin’s chest as he wiggles his brows.

“You won’t accept a No either way, will you?” 

Jungkook shakes his head, smiling with his eyes so brightly, they sparkle.

“Fine”, Seokjin gives in, “fine, I’ll allow you. By Frenya, how should I bring the news to my love?”

“Tell her that your little brother wants to treat you”, Jungkook says and leads Seokjin out of the bathing room with an arm around his shoulder, “and that I find great happiness in the thought that I can make it possible that you and her share warm baths.”

“Oh Jungkook”, Seokjin says and sighs, “you truly grew up so much. Look at you and, and look at this room.” They are in Jungkook’s bed chambers again. It still feels like a dream of riches to Seokjin. “You deserve all of this. Yes, every single treasure in this room.” 

Jungkook leans his head on Seokjin’s shoulder, “thank you. Oh my brother, you’re so…” he turns and hugs Seokjin, “…I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too, little one”, Seokjin says and rubs Jungkook’s back, “now I have to ask. Can you show me your clothing room?”

“You want to see?” Jungkook looks at him excitedly, “I didn’t know if I should ask, because I don’t want to seem as if I am boasting.”

“You aren’t. Please. Show me where you store your clothes.” 

“Okay, so follow me”, Jungkook says and skips to the door.

Seokjin follows him with a fond smile on his lips.

“You will really like the room. It has a mirror and a seat to relax on. Also, so many clothes”, Jungkook tells him excitedly.

“You never struck me as a clothing person.”

“I’m not. I’m really not, but my love likes to dress me up”, Jungkook says and giggles, “she always gets me the latest fashion and compliments me when I wear it, so I really like it that she does. And Bartholomew always makes me clothes in black. I really love black.”

“I know. You always did. It fits your skin tone so well.”

“Yes, I agree”, Jungkook says and opens the door next to his chambers, “now don’t judge me, but it is a little messy in here, because I needed to pick out an outfit for today. I didn’t have time to put my clothes away yet.” 

“Do not worry. I don’t judge.”

“Yes, well then. Come in”, Jungkook says and leads Seokjin inside.

“Jungkook, by Frenya”, Seokjin gasps, widening his eyes as the beauty of the room overwhelms him.

It is smaller than Jungkook’s bedroom and its walls are covered in ceiling high wardrobes all bursting in the finest of clothes. On one wall, more jewellery is presented and on the lower racks, Jungkook stores his shoes.

“It is unbelievable, isn’t it?” Jungkook says and laughs, “I always have to pinch myself when I realise what life I am living these days.”

“Understandable. You are living in dreams.” 

“Yes, I really am. Oh, I love it here so much”, Jungkook says as he is busy clearing the seat of his clothes.

“It is such an improvement to the Black Forest, isn’t it?” Seokjin asks.

Jungkook laughs, “yeah”, he agrees with a nod of his head, “it truly is”, he says and looks at himself in the mirror, “and now we are actually free of the mark”, he meets Seokjin’s eyes in the reflection, “aren’t we?”

“We are”, Seokjin says and smiles.

Jungkook retorts it, closing the distance between him and the mirror afterwards. He stops in front of it and opens his tunic. Seokjin watches him. Jungkook traces his chest. His fingers still know which paths to take to replicate the tattoo. His skin is unmarked however. Sunkissed and velvety just like the rest of his body and finally unmarked.

“It is truly gone”, Jungkook whispers.

“It feels unbelievable, doesn’t it?”

Jungkook nods his head.

“I know. I spent the first few days after the removal staring at my chest in disbelief.” 

“I will do the same. I cannot fathom that it is really gone”, Jungkook says and does a little twirl so he could sit down on the two-seater. He lets out a heavy sigh.

Seokjin sits down next to him, looking at him. He can sense that the emotion in the room changed, he can see it on Jungkook’s features as well.

“Do you remember how it felt?” Jungkook asks. 

“The removal?”

“No. Getting the tattoo.”

“Ah. Yes, I remember.”

“I wanted him to stop.”

“I know. I did too.”

“But he said that I had to keep going because I needed to be strong and make him proud. I wanted to make him proud.”

Seokjin studies the regret on Jungkook’s features.

“You were five of age and lost your parents. Of course you wanted to make him proud”, he says because he knows that Jungkook blames himself right now, “he was the adult taking up the role of a parent for your young mind, so do not blame yourself.”

Jungkook looks at Seokjin as if he hadn’t expected to hear such words of comfort and understanding. 

“Do not feel ashamed of it. Instead feel anger at Rafkan for giving you such a nightmarish parental figure to lean on.”

“It is hard not to feel shame. I never should have seen him as my father.”

“I know. It is easy to blame yourself, but don’t. You were a child. Every child needs parents. Do not blame your young heart for doing what every young heart would have done.”

Jungkook nods his head in understanding.

“I try not to think about everything he did for too long”, he confesses.

“Why?”

“It makes me feel helpless.”

“Helpless?”

“Yes. Helpless. Helpless because I feel so many emotions at once and it is as if I am drowning because not one of the emotions is good.”

“I understand how you feel. I felt the same as you and sometimes when the day is darker, those feelings return. I cannot tell you a cure to the helplessness because time healed me more than anything else, however I can offer you my shoulder to lean on.”

Jungkook leans in, resting his head on Seokjin’s shoulder just like he did a million times before. There were many nights in the Raven camps where Jungkook fell asleep with his head on Seokjin’s shoulder, while the older brother watched over him. The days after such nights were exhausting for Seokjin, but he never showed his tiredness to Jungkook even if Jungkook already knew. He felt guilty whenever it happened, but life back then exhausted him so much that oftentimes he didn’t realize that it was happening. 

Jungkook doesn’t feel guilty right now. He feels tranquil. His eyes are closed and his heart beats at a normal pace. Seokjin rests his head against Jungkook’s.

“You can always talk to me about what plagues you, Jungkook”, he speaks quietly, “I managed to heal as much as I did these days because I had my love listening to me. Does the Queen listen to your griefs?”

“She does. She helped me heal a lot, but I think….” Jungkook takes a shaky breath, “I think that there is still a lot to do. I feel so happy, but sometimes the memories come back. I think about everything he did and said and I look at them in a new light now that my mind is cleared of his lies and I get so inexplicably angry. Then I get sad. Heartbroken. And helpless. Does this happen to you? Are you sometimes doing something which brings you joy when suddenly the memories come back again?”

“Of course. This is how one heals from traumatic events.”

“Really? So I am not broken?”

“Of course you aren’t broken. You are doing everything right.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “I feel as if I could do more.”

“You are doing everything right. You are healing at the perfect speed.”

Jungkook inhales and it sounds steady.

Jungkook exhales and it sounds relieved.

“I missed you so much”, he whispers and throws his hand over his own eyes. 

Seokjin kisses the crown of Jungkook’s head.

“I missed you too.”

“You always know what to say.”

“I try to at least.”

Jungkook laughs. Seokjin laughs as well. Jungkook lifts his head and meets Seokjin’s eyes. Seokjin cups his cheek and wipes his tears. 

“I love you so much”, Jungkook whispers.

“And I love you, my little one”, Seokjin whispers and smiles.

Jungkook retorts it, “I feel as if all I do is cry. I promise I am not like this on normal days.”

Seokjin laughs, “you do not have to explain yourself. We are all humans with emotions. Today is an emotional day.”

Jungkook studies Seokjin’s features. He always knew that his big brother was wise and knowledgeable beyond his age even if he oftentimes hid his wisdom behind silly jokes. Jungkook could always rely on Seokjin and his words of wisdom were perhaps the reason why the Queen spotted goodness in his eyes all those months ago. Jungkook is certain that if he didn’t have Seokjin by his side, comforting him and guiding him secretly when Rafkan wasn’t looking, he would have become as rotten as some other devoted Ravens. It was Seokjin’s guidance and love which kept the goodness in Jungkook’s heart. He is certain of it. 

“I want to show you something”, Jungkook says.

“Yes? Show me.”

“We have to get to the woods for it. I know the way”, Jungkook says and stands up, “follow me.”

And so the two men hurry through the castle until they reached the courtyard again. The sun has travelled quite some distance on the sky as the two men chatted in Jungkook’s room. Their loves are talking to each other. Seokjin and Jungkook pay them a visit before they leave.

“I want to show Seokjin the Life Oak”, Jungkook says.

“Oh yes, please do”, the Queen says and smiles, “you will find great healing in this place, Seokjin.”

“I, uhm”, Seokjin doesn’t quite know what to say because it is still unbelievable to him that he is talking casually with the Queen. Yes, he did so before when he was her guest back then, but this is different. He is a free man and her people and his well-mannered heart tells him to speak respectfully. 

“Have fun, you two”, his love tells him and gives his hand a little kiss, “try not to stumble over roots. The tree fairies are especially naughty around the Life Oak.”

The Queen giggles, leaning into her friend, “indeed they are. Oh, how wonderful.”

The healer snickers, sharing in her laughter by touching her knee.

Jungkook and Seokjin soon bid their goodbyes with smiles on their faces, kissing their destinies on their lips because they loved them. 

“I still cannot fathom that you are to marry the Queen”, Seokjin says as he and Jungkook hurry to the gate leading to the woods.

“Me neither. I feel so lucky. She is too good to me”, Jungkook says and sighs dreamily, “I love her so much.”

Seokjin smiles, “it feels good to be in love, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. Oh yes, it does. My heart races all the time, I feel warm all over and when I listen to her talk, my tummy flutters.”

“I understand you. I feel the same with mine”, Seokjin says and sighs, “she is the most wonderful person. The first thing she taught me was how to read and write.”

“Yes? Oh, this is exciting. So you can read as well?”

“You too?”

Jungkook nods his head, “my love taught me. It was very difficult at first, but she told me that I learned insanely fast.”

“Of course you did. You are such a fast learner and you are good at everything.”

“That isn’t correct. I hate maths.”

Seokjin laughs. Jungkook joins him.

“I hate it as well. Frustrating business indeed.”

“Yes”, Jungkook agrees in snickers.

Seokjin retorts them. Their eyes meet seconds later. There is a certain emotion in the air. One which makes both men shy away. Jungkook is brave enough to break the silence.

“Did”, he begins, “did your love also teach you what…what bodies can do?”

“Maybe”, Seokjin confesses and blushes.

“Mine did too”, Jungkook confesses with his cheeks just as flushed.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

The two men giggle in coyness, drawing closer as they share in the naughty secret. 

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Jungkook asks in a whisper.

“It does”, Seokjin whispers and covers his own eyes, “this is so embarrassing to talk about. Oh by Frenya.”

“Yes”, Jungkook agrees and covers his own ears as he scrunches his nose, “we’re such men these days.”

“Oh Jungkook, will you stop”, Seokjin whines and slaps his arm gently, “you are making me burn up.”

Jungkook giggles, burning up himself.

Jungkook knows the way to the Life Oak like he knows his way to the courtyard. He walks the paths regularly, finding healing in nature and the quiet of the forest. Seokjin feels the powers as well. Ever since he set foot into the dense forest, breathing feels easier to do.

It takes the young men around thirty minutes to reach their destiny. They spend the time greatly, talking and joking with each other every passing second. There wasn’t a second of silence between them as new stories of their lives came to their minds over and over again.

They grew silent however once they reached the clearing where the Life Oak fills the space with her presence. It happened naturally that the two men became silent. As if the Life Oak makes one do so.

“This is it”, Jungkook says quietly and closes the distance to the oak tree.

“This is it?” Seokjin whispers and steps closer to the oak, “it is…so tall. And beautiful. Why is it bleeding black…substance?”

“It’s not hurting. Not right now. Those are marks that She is happy. That She is crying tears of joy because Her earth is healthy.” 

“Her earth?”

Jungkook nods his head, “touch Her.”

Seokjin places his hand on the oak tree’s trunk, flinching back in shock.

“What?” he gasps, touching it again, “what is that? Why can I….I-I feel a heartbeat.”

“Yes”, Jungkook says and places his hand next to Seokjin’s, “this tree is life itself. She gives this Queendom nourishment and makes it live. She can talk to every plant, animal and nature itself through Her roots.”

“This is”, Seokjin blinks his tears away, “I don’t know what is happening”, he says and wipes his eyes, “oh by Frenya, why am I crying?

“It is okay to cry. I cried the first time as well”, Jungkook assures him, rubbing his upper arm gently, “it is overwhelming to touch life itself. Don’t hide it and let it happen.”

Seokjin sobs softly, lowering his face into his own palm. Jungkook touches his shoulder in comfort, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“I am not sad. I just haven’t felt like this before”, he explains.

“This is normal, let it happen. Give Her a hug if you want to”, he tells him and because Seokjin is overwhelmed in life, he does. 

He hugs the ancient tree and he sobs as he does. His arms barely take up space on the thick trunk, but Seokjin still feels cradled. As if his mother was holding him and rocking him to sleep. The oak tree sings to him just like his mother would in the rustling of its leaves and croaking of its branches. 

“This is life itself, Jungkook. It has a pulse as if it was alive”, Seokjin gets out, “and, and it feels as if…as if…I can’t describe it.”

“As if you are hugged by your mother”, Jungkook says.

“Yes. Oh Jungkook, I miss my mother”, Seokjin sobs. 

“I miss my mother too”, Jungkook says and whimpers, “oh Seokjin, come here”, he chokes out and hugs his brother from behind, caging him in between the tree and his body. 

He rubs his hand up and down Seokjin’s tummy, resting his chin on Seokjin’s shoulder. 

“I’m here. You aren’t alone.”

And as they cry for their lost mothers, the Life Oak cradles them like Her sons, swaying Her branches and filling their hearts with new hope. Their mothers might have left the earth already, but She will always be there for them and in Her, their mothers will live on eternally. For every life form, no matter how small, will find its place in Her endless roots, Her never rotting foliage and Her countless branches. So in a way, as the two men hug Her for comfort, they are hugging their mothers.

“We still have each other”, Jungkook comforts him. 

“We do. Oh Jungkook, thank you for showing me this place. I haven’t felt such a hug in years”, Seokjin says and turns to cradle Jungkook’s cheeks, “it felt as if my mother was holding me.

“I know. She is beautiful, isn’t She? I come here and talk to Her often, I hug Her and find comfort in Her. I believe that our mothers are continuing to live through Her.” 

“I love this thought ”, Seokjin meets Jungkook’s warm gaze, “it is so beautiful and I can feel my mother. We can feel them, Jungkook.”

“We can”, Jungkook says and hugs him.

Seokjin hugs him back, combing his fingers through his hair.

“Thank you. Thank you for showing me this place”, he whispers.

“There is so much more to show you”, Jungkook whispers.

“There is?”

“Do you want to see?”

“Yes. Yes, of course I do. Oh Jungkook, please show me everything in your life.”

Jungkook steps back and gives Seokjin a loving smile before turning his back to him. He takes a deep breath and calls into the silence. Seokjin watches him with parted lips. 

Jungkook finishes his calls with a content sigh and his eyes glancing at Seokjin bashfully.

“What did you do?” Seokjin asks him.

“I called for them.”

“For who?”

The forest grumbles and cracks. The small trees and thick shrubs begin dancing. Seokjin inches closer to Jungkook in fear.

“Someone is coming”, he whispers.

“I know. It’s them.”

“Them?”

Woltron steps out of the shadows. His pack follows. They build a circle around Jungkook and Seokjin, growling deeply.

“What is that? Jungkook, we need to flee”, Seokjin gasps and tries to tug Jungkook away.

Jungkook stumbles and laughs, tugging Seokjin back.

“Don’t be frightened. They’re my friends.”

“Your friends? Jungkook, this is Woltron and His pack, he will eat us.”

“No, he won’t. Look”, Jungkook says and slips out of Seokjin’s tight grasp to walk to Woltron.

“Jungkook. No”, Seokjin gasps, reaching for him but grabbing air. He has to watch with horror as Jungkook places his hand on Woltron’s nose, “I can’t watch this”, Seokjin chokes out and squeezes his eyes shut.

There is silence for a few seconds, then Jungkook speaks all of a sudden.

“Open your eyes.”

Seokjin follows even if he is scared.

“What?” he gasps.

Jungkook is sitting atop of Woltron, carrying a smile on his face.

“They’re my friends”, he says and taps Woltron’s shoulder, “Woltron, this is my big brother Seokjin.”

Woltron closes the distance between him and Seokjin. Seokjin tries to stumble back, but collides with the nose of another wolf.

“Forgive me!” he squeaks and jumps away, which makes him collide with Woltron’s nose, “ah! Forgive me! Please, don’t eat me!”

Jungkook laughs, “calm down, brother. They don’t want to eat you. Take a deep breath and look into Woltron’s eyes.”

“But-”

“Trust me.”

Seokjin studies Jungkook’s features.

“Trust me”, the younger man repeats and smiles.

It gives Seokjin enough strength that he takes a deep breath and then meets Woltron’s piercing gaze. The wolf growls deeply, keeping Seokjin hostage. Seokjin trembles and shakes, forgetting all about breathing until Woltron breaks eye contact. The wolf lets out a low grumble and lifts his head. He turns his side to Seokjin.

“See? You’re their friend now as well”, Jungkook says.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Woltron and his pack are old gods. They have been on this continent long before humans lived on the lands. Woltron can look into people’s hearts and see their truest truth in them. He accepted you in His pack, which means your heart is good.”

“Good?” Seokjin gasps, “and if it wasn’t good? What would he have done then?”

“It doesn’t matter. I wanted to show you this place and introduce you to Him because I knew you were good. I also passed their test when I first came here and I only passed it because I had you secretly guiding me. You kept the good in my heart, so I knew that you would pass.”

“But if I hadn’t?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “this never would have happened, but if you hadn’t then Woltron would have eaten you.”

“What?!” Seokjin squeaks, “and you didn’t tell me? Jungkook, how dare you?!”

Jungkook snickers, “I didn’t tell you because I knew that you would have been way too scared. Now climb onto Eudora’s back and let me show you one last thing.”

“You are such a trickster. You didn’t change one bit”, Seokjin murmurs and turns his back to him.

The wolf whose nose he accidentally collided with, lowers herself so Seokjin could climb onto her back.

“Hello Eudora, will you bite me?” Seokjin says quietly, taking cautious steps closer.

Eudora stays quiet, watching Seokjin with half-lidded eyes. Her eyes are emerald green just like Woltron’s.

“She won’t bite. Trust Her”, Jungkook assures him.

“Don’t talk to me. I don’t trust you anymore”, Seokjin jokes, making Jungkook laugh, “okay, I am doing it. I am getting on your back, yes?”

Eudora stays still and allows Seokjin to climb on top. Once he is safely on top, she stands up, forcing Seokjin to squeak and twist bundles of her fur.

“This is so scary”, he squeals, “I’m sorry, oh heavens, eek.”

“Calm down, you are tugging her fur”, Jungkook laughs and reaches over to caress his shoulder, “don’t be too scared. You know how to ride a horse, don’t you?”

“Yes, but this is insanity. We are on top of gigantic wolves.”

“They’re such better runners. Ready?”

“What? Runners? Jungkook, what are you planning to do?”

“I will show you my favourite place.”

“What do you mean runners? Jungkook, talk to me”, Seokjin asks nervously.

“The wolves will bring us. Don’t worry, it will feel as if you are flying”, Jungkook assures him and pets Woltron’s back, “can you takes us to the plateau, Woltron?”

The wolf straightens his head and howls. His pack answers him.

“What is happening?” Seokjin yells over their howls, looking at Jungkook.

“Hold on tight”, he says.

“What? Eeek!” Seokjin squeals and falls to the front in a desperate attempt to hug Eudora as she takes off with her pack, “this is the scariest thing I have ever done!” he screeches while beside him, Jungkook squeals and squeaks in laughter.

He looks at his little brother and how happy he looks riding the giant wolf. His dark hair catches the wind, his clothes dance in it and his face is crinkled in laughter.

“This is so much fun!” he calls out and looks at Seokjin, “sit up, trust me.”

“I hate this! Why are you doing this to me? Ju-Ju-Jungkook”, Seokjin screeches.

“Sit up, trust me”, Jungkook laughs.

Seokjin sits up even if his heart was racing in fear. The wind makes his eyes tear up instantly and messes up his hair. He feels it on his skin and smells the freedom in the air.

“This is insane! Jungkook you rascal, this is insane!”

“No, this is freedom”, Jungkook calls out and lets go of Woltron to stretch his arms far away from himself. He closes his eyes and laughs loudly. 

Seokjin looks at the wolf under him. Her fur is reflecting the sunlight, glowing like ambers in a fire. He barely feels her movements, except her shifting muscles under her thick fur. 

The wind is dancing around them. The world feels so vast. Seokjin doesn’t feel as if he will fall off. He lets go of her fur and stretches his arms from his own body. It feels as if he is lifting off the ground. Freedom, Jungkook called it. This is freedom.

“Hah!” Seokjin lets out and looks at Jungkook. He laughs, “I’m riding a wolf!”

“I know! Isn’t it so much fun?”

“Yes!”

Jungkook laughs and holds onto Woltron again as the wolf speeds up. Eudora follows, speeding up with Seokjin on her back. Seokjin squeaks in laughter, throwing his head back as the world passes him in blurs of colour.

The wolves take the two giggling men all the way up the Snowy Mountains. They climb the steep stones easily and while Seokjin screeched and clutched Eudora in fear, Jungkook laughed and assured him that nothing will happen to them. And he was right. Except for wobbly knees and his nerves stretched thin, Seokjin arrives atop the plateau unharmed. He slides off of Eudora, colliding with the ground as he catches his breath.

“Hey, are you alright?” Jungkook gasps, jumping off of Woltron’s back. He kneels down in front of Seokjin, touching his arms, “what’s the matter?”

“This was insanity. We just climbed a mountain”, Seokjin gets out and wheezes for air, “I think I might pass out. Did this actually happen?”

Jungkook chuckles and strokes his hand down the back of Seokjin’s head.

“You did well. I know the first time is really frightening. I thought I soiled my pants the first time my love took me here.”

“You did?” Seokjin gets out and lifts his head to look into Jungkook’s eyes.

“Yeah”, he snickers, nodding his head, “but I promise you that it is worth it.”

“I truly hope it is because I think that I might have shat myself right now.”

Jungkook laughs, “you are fine. Now come on, I need to show you”, he says and helps Seokjin to his feet.

“You will kill me one day, I am telling you. I’m too old for such adventures.”

“You are twenty and six of age, brother. You are not too old”, Jungkook laughs as he leads him to the edge of the plateau.

Seokjin stumbles back, squeezing Jungkook’s hands.

“Jungkook, you madman what are you doing?”

“Don’t be scared.”

“This is so high.”

“I know, but don’t be scared. Look. We still have five steps to take before it becomes dangerous.”

“You”, Seokjin exhales deeply, “you have always been fearless. No, I have to sit down.”

Jungkook laughs, joining him on the ground. He stretches out his legs while Seokjin sits with his legs crossed.

“You are okay, brother”, he assures him.

“I guess. Oh, you made my heart race”, Seokjin says and sighs deeply, “first you tell me that a wolf god could have eaten me, then you make me ride on top of one and climb a mountain and now this. Do you want to kill me? My heart is too weak for all of this.”

Jungkook snickers, giving Seokjin a small look before he lets his eyes drift at the view before them. The Queendom lies before their eyes. The Black Forest in the far distance, the Singing River reflecting the sunlight and the Nourishing Fields as green phantoms in the distance.

“But I must say this view makes up for it”, Seokjin says.

“Doesn’t it?” Jungkook agrees, “my love tells me that this is the whole of the Queendom and even more”, he says.

“It is?”

“Yes. Look, the green in the distance are the Nourishing Fields. The river over there is the Singing River. These are the forests of the Castle, the Life Oak and my home and back there in the distance is the Black Forest”, Jungkook explains, pointing at everything so Seokjin could see.

“Wow”, Seokjin whispers, “so this is everything.”

“Yes it is and when you look beyond the Black Forest in the really, really far distance you can see the Glass Mountains.”

“Glass Mountains?”

“Yes, Glass Mountains. They’re a foreign queendom. Their lakes are emerald coloured and all their valleys are filled with trees with ruby coloured foliage. Their Queen fell in love with her warrior and possesses healing magic”, Jungkook explains and looks at Seokjin, “like your love. She can heal with just a touch.”

“Oh. Oh, no. My love can’t heal with a touch. The queen of the Glass Mountains must be a Mender.”

“A Mender?”

“Yes, Mender. They posses magic in their blood, which they can use to heal all wounds and aches. My love needs potions and creams to heal.”

“I see. Menders. I didn’t know about them yet”, Jungkook says and sighs in contentment, “it is so wonderful to learn. We were kept so blind to the world, weren’t we?”

“We really were”, Seokjin agrees, “but we are free.”

Jungkook touches his own chest. Seokjin does the same to his’.

“We’re free”, Jungkook whispers and smiles, “and we can learn all the knowledge in the world.”

Seokjin does the same, “indeed we can.”

Jungkook lifts his hand, pointing at the Queendom.

“Where exactly is your home?”

“I don’t know. I have never seen the queendom this way”, he says, “but I think it has to be around there”, he says and points at a forest in the distance. The Singing River digs its path close to it and a small town neighbours it.

“In this town?” Jungkook asks.

“No, through this forest. There is a clearing next to the river and we have our cottage there. The forest is filled with tree fairies which like to play tricks by growing roots in front of your feet or dropping acorns on your head.”

“Really?” Jungkook snickers.

“Yes, really”, Seokjin chuckles.

“And have you ever encountered such a tree fairies before?” 

“Indeed I have. One dropped snow on my head in winter and another grew a branch directly in front my face. I swallowed leaves that day.” 

Jungkook laughs, leaning back as he does. Seokjin joins him. Their heartfelt laughter echoes through the whole queendom. At least it feels like that to them as they sit and overlook everything as the mountains play catch with their voices.

“Ah this is so funny”, Jungkook says and sighs.

“Indeed it is”, Seokjin agrees and exhales in contentment. 

The two men dance their eyes over the endless view. And while Seokjin tries to take in everything as best as possible, Jungkook studies the area where his brother lives. It isn’t that far from the castle. He will be able to visit his brother often and in return, Seokjin can visit him as well. Jungkook feels his heart flutter in happiness at the thought.

“A cottage”, Jungkook whispers and sways from side to side as complete contentment fills his chest, “is it a nice home?”

“It is the best home I could have ever wished for. We grow flowers and herbs for our healing potions and in the warmer months, our garden is filled with vegetables and fruit we can eat”, Seokjin explains excitedly, “and we have chickens. They lay so many eggs that we can always have fresh eggs for breakfast. The river is always filled with fresh fish and sometimes we go to the market in town and buy meat, which will last us for days.”

“This sounds like a dream.”

“It is a dream. We even have a cat.”

“A cat? Really?” Jungkook gasps.

“Yes, really. His name is Kukuruz and we can talk to him.”

“What? Talk?”

“Yes, talk.”

“How?”

Seokjin lifts his arm, showing a delicate leather armband to Jungkook.

“There is a sorceress in town, who can make these animal talking bracelets and we each got one.”

“Wow”, Jungkook says, touching it gently, “and it works?”

“It does.”

“So you can understand Woltron and his pack?”

The two men look over their shoulders at the old god. He and his pack are slumbering peacefully behind them.

“No”, Seokjin turns back around, “no sadly, you can only choose one animal. We chose a cat.”

“I understand”, Jungkook looks back at the view, “it is still so amazing. I want to be able to talk to animals. I imagine that it must be so interesting.”

“I can tell you from experience that most conversation with Kukuruz are about him wanting more food.”

Jungkook laughs. Seokjin joins him.

“I see. Well, this does sound like what a cat would talk about most.”

“Yes, indeed.”

Silence replaces their laughter like sunlight replaces rain. It comes because it always follows and it feels natural. The two men looked forward to the silence like people look forward to sunlight after long rain. And as they share in the wonderful silence, they take in the views. Their world once reached to the borders of the Black Forest and not one step beyond and now they are sitting atop the Snowy Mountains, overlooking their freedom.

“Should we visit the Nourishing Fields together?” Seokjin asks.

“We could, couldn’t we?”

“We could.”

Seokjin drapes his arm over Jungkook’s shoulder. The younger man leans into him.

“Then we will.”

[chimcess]

Pitch Black || jjk (1)

⮞ Chapter One: The Crash Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Convict!Jungkook, Escaped Prisoner!Jungkook, Piolet!Reader, Captain!Reader, Holyman!Namjoon, Genre: Sci-Fi, Action, Adventure, Thriller, Suspense, Strangers to Enemies to ???, Slow Burn, LOTS of Angst, Light Fluff, Eventual Smut, Third Person POV, 18+ Only Word Count: 27.7k+ Summary: Stranded on a barren planet lit by three suns, a group of survivors struggle to survive after their transporter crash-lands. Their situation grows dire when pilot Y/N discovers that every 22 years, an eclipse plunges the planet into darkness, unleashing swarms of flesh-eating creatures. Facing both external threats and internal tensions, the group forms a fragile alliance. As mistrust and secrets surface, Y/N's complicated dynamic with convict and murderer Jungkook intensifies, making the fight for survival against the darkness and the creatures even more perilous. Warnings: Strong Language, Side Character Death, Main Character Death, Aliens, Vicious Carnivorous Aliens, Violence, Blood, Jungkook is a huge prick, Cocky too, Talks About Past Characters Dying, Trauma Bonding, Bickering, Arguing, If Kook is a prick then Lee is a dick, Child Death, Graphic Death Scenes, Sexual Tension, Y/N is just trying her best, Jaded Characters, Religious Themes (I mean no harm and do not want to offend anyone), Bad Character Choices, Peter is Iconic (and a dumb ass), Surviving, Alcohol Consumption A/N: First chapter means it's time for the fun to begin. Or in this case, the catastrophe. Thanks for reading!

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The steady hum of the Hunter-Gratzner was like a heartbeat—a constant, low thrum that seeped through Y/N’s boots and kept her anchored in the here and now. It was so familiar she hardly noticed it anymore—until it suddenly stopped. And that silence wasn’t peaceful. It was suffocating, the kind that squeezes the air out of your lungs and makes your skin crawl. Not something you ever want to hear in deep space.

Today, though, the hum was going strong, a comforting reminder that the Hunter-Gratzner was doing exactly what it was built to do. Y/N’s fingers moved across the console with quick, confident precision, like they’d been doing this forever. In a way, they had. After so many hours in the pilot’s seat, it felt less like she was guiding the ship and more like she was part of it—a living extension of its circuits and steel.

A burst of static from the Kordis 12 radio broke her concentration. Flight control’s clipped voice cut through the hiss. “Hunter-Gratzner here,” she answered. “Cleared the last planetary marker.” “Copy that, Hunter-Gratzner,” came the calm reply. “You’re in the primary shipping lanes and cleared for main engine burn. Have a good sleep, H-G. Silas, out.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. Her hand tightened on the lever, then she eased it forward. The reactor’s purr deepened into a low, resonant rumble that pulsed through the ship like some ancient predator settling in for a nap. The ride was smooth—remarkably so, given the sketchy charts of the Tangiers System. No stray debris, no glitches, no pirates lurking in the dark.

Her gaze flicked to the console, scanning the numbers until they leveled off. She did a quick mental calculation of her cut: half a percent. Not much, but enough. Every run, every ton of cargo, chipped away at her debts and nudged her further from the past she was trying to outrun. Out here, in the cold black of space, it was all about survival.

Twenty-eight weeks to New Mecca. That was a long, lonely stretch—but Y/N liked it that way. The emptiness suited her. When the rest of the crew went into stasis, it left her with time to think... or not think. To forget. Forget the faces, the regrets, the ghosts.

She leaned back, fingers wrapping around the warm ceramic of her synth coffee mug. The bitter taste brought her back down to earth—figuratively speaking. Moments like this, with the ship’s hum in her bones and the console lights glowing softly, made the universe feel almost small and manageable. But even then, those nagging questions crept in.

Is this enough? Enough to change her life? To change her?

She pushed the doubts aside, focusing on the faint pinpricks of light scattered across the viewport. This was why she chose this path. Not many women signed up for these long-haul routes—months of isolation, heavy responsibility, and even heavier risks. Most took safer roles: cooking, medical, logistics. But not her. She wanted the pilot’s seat, the chance to earn her crew’s trust while hurtling them through the void.

And she’d done it. Earned it the hard way. Respect wasn’t handed out; you had to wrestle it into submission with grit and skill. She remembered the sneers at the academy, the snide comments. They only fueled her determination. By the time she graduated from Helion Prime’s technical college, she wasn’t just “that dock rat.” She was Y/N Y/L/N, Docking Pilot.

Her uncle had been the first to call her that, pride shining in his eyes even as he teased her. “Docking Pilot,” he’d say, guiding her hands over the controls of his beat-up transport. “You’ll go places, kid. Farther than I ever did.”

Back then, Helion Prime had felt like the whole world—shimmering dunes, scorching heat, and so much promise. She’d started in botany, thinking maybe helping things grow would heal something inside her. But the cockpit’s call was louder. Flight school swept her up, derailing her neat little plan.

That’s when she met Jimin Park. His grin could slice through any tension, but it was his quiet steadiness that really grounded her. Like her, he understood loss. They clicked right away—two orphans forging a bond without needing words. He was practically family, so much so that her uncle took to calling him “nephew” without hesitation.

When NOSA balked at hiring a “Helion Five girl,” Jimin used his connections. His voice carried weight on Aguerra, a place where religion was considered outdated and logic reigned. Helion Prime’s faith clashed with that worldview, but Jimin made them see beyond prejudices. He landed her an interview with Director Min, and Yoongi—sharp-eyed and no-nonsense—saw her raw talent for what it was: resourceful, adaptable, unbreakable under pressure.

Joining the Starfire crew felt like coming home. She still missed them all—Jimin’s steady humor, Armin’s wild Earth stories, Hoseok and Val’s constant flirting. They were a real team, which was a rare thing in the vacuum of space. But then came the promotion offer.

Co-pilot. Better pay. Easier hours. The catch? Leaving the Starfire.

It had seemed like the practical move. But practicality doesn’t fill the aching void left by Jimin’s laugh or Armin’s tall tales. It doesn’t replace that sense of belonging you’ve finally found and then walked away from.

Now the reactor’s low rumble hummed in her bones as she stared into the endless night. Choices. They always caught up with her in the dark, when everything was still except the glow of the console and the distant stars. Had she chosen right? Or had she traded too much for the hum of this ship and the lonely stretches of black it carried?

She thought of Koah, how he could turn even the most routine haul into a story worth hearing—always full of humor and heart. He made every shared meal feel like an adventure. They’d built something special, too—trust forged in danger and laughter, in moments where they looked out for each other no matter what.

And now? Now she was stuck with Greg fucking Shields.

Shields wasn’t just a bad fit—he was the kind of guy who turned the atmosphere sour the second he walked in. Even the simplest tasks became ordeals under his watch, every word dripping with smugness and spite. Koah had been the glue that held them all together, but Shields felt more like a dead weight dragging them down.

“Passengers are tucked in,” he announced, swaggering onto the bridge with that grating, self-satisfied tone. “All set for the long night.”

Y/N didn’t look up, her fingers gliding over the console with practiced ease. “Coordinates locked?” she asked, voice clipped and all business.

“Getting to it,” he drawled, dragging out the words just enough to poke at her nerves.

She refused to take the bait, though her patience was already thinning. Shields finally tapped in the last sequence, and the console beeped its confirmation.

“Don’t rush me, Fry,” he sneered, throwing out the nickname like an insult, smirking as if daring her to react. “You want me to fly us into a black hole?”

Her jaw tightened, her hands pausing on the controls. Fry. Once upon a time, that name brought warm memories—Uncle Sean calling her from the docks with pride in his voice. But Shields had a knack for twisting it into something ugly.

Then he muttered, “bitch,” just loud enough for her to hear. It was the last straw.

“You’ve got your coordinates,” she said, her voice low and controlled, like the calm before a storm. “Lock them in and get off my bridge.”

Shields opened his mouth, ready to spew more venom, but a gravelly voice cut him off.

“Greg.”

Captain Marshall’s tone carried an authority that left no room for argument. It was deep, steady, and edged with enough menace to make Shields recoil.

“Take a walk. Now.”

Shields hesitated, clearly tempted to protest. But one look at Marshall’s face made him think better of it. With stiff shoulders, he muttered something under his breath and stomped off, the hatch hissing shut behind him.

Marshall turned to Y/N, the corners of his beard twitching in a half-smile. “You good, Frenchie?” he asked, using the nickname she actually liked.

She exhaled, not realizing she’d been holding her breath. “I’m fine, Cap. Thanks.”

He nodded, studying her for a moment before leaning against the console. “Shields is a pain in the ass,” he said, his voice dropping to a more casual tone. “Don’t let him get under your skin. If he keeps this up, he’ll be shown the airlock soon enough.”

She let out a dry laugh. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Believe it,” Marshall said with a growing grin. “But don’t think you’re off the hook, Frenchie. I need you sharp. And because I’m feeling generous, I’ll spare you the disco tonight.”

She groaned theatrically, rolling her eyes. “Finally! Your music tastes are borderline criminal, Cap.”

“It’s a cultural treasure,” he protested, feigning offense.

Their shared laughter cut through the tension, if only for a moment. It reminded Y/N of easier days—back on the Starfire, before hard decisions and new regrets made everything more complicated.

22 Weeks Later

The ship’s hum had always felt like part of her—it was in her bones. Most of the time, she forgot it was there. You only noticed it when it vanished, and that’s usually when panic kicked in and you started praying. But for Y/N, there wasn’t any warning. She didn’t even get a chance to register the silence before the chaos hit.

Her cryo-locker hissed open and spat her onto the deck as if the ship itself was rejecting her. The air felt like a slap—icy, metallic, and stinking of burnt circuits. Alarms shrieked, overlapping and piercing, and her muscles, still useless from cryo-sleep, gave out beneath her. She landed hard, arms barely stopping her face from hitting the cold metal floor.

The Hunter-Gratzner groaned, a deep, agonized sound like the big beast it was had finally given up. Gravity shouldn’t have been working, but it yanked her sideways anyway. Flickering lights threw erratic shadows across the twisted wreckage of the corridor—jagged metal, ruptured walls, and beyond the cracked viewport, a faint orange glow flickered like a distant fire.

Y/N forced herself up, hands shaking so badly she could barely grip the frost-encrusted console. She was cold, nauseous, and terrified, but a single thought pounded in her head:

Get up. Get up.

She wobbled onto unsteady feet, nearly gagging on the hot, chemical stink clinging to the air. Fighting the urge to panic, she staggered toward the nearest cryo-locker. Inside, the plexiglass was smashed, shards clinging to the frame. Blood streaked the interior in frozen arcs, and the body inside—someone she might’ve known—was crumpled and horribly bent. She tore her eyes away, throat burning with bile.

There had to be survivors. There had to be.

Movement flickered in the next locker. Heart hammering, she rushed over and wiped the frost from the glass. Inside, the Captain was stirring, breathing shallowly but alive. Relief hit her like a jolt of adrenaline.

She slammed her hand against the intercom. “Cap’n, can you hear me? The hull’s compromised—it’s holding, but barely. Thank God you’re alive. Hold on, I’m gonna pop your E-release. Red handle—pull it once I clear it, got it?” Her voice came out fast, shaky. “I’ll try to get the warm-ups running—”

Then she heard it: a sharp, staccato crack. Phat-phat-phat. Thin contrails streaked through the air. A heartbeat later, the Captain’s chest exploded, spraying blood across the cryo-glass. Shards of plexiglass and metal blew outward, embedding in the walls. He jerked once, twice, then slumped, his eyes going dark as sparks shot from the ruined console.

Y/N reeled back, hand over her mouth. She’d been staring right at him—and now he was—

A sudden hiss behind her made her spin around, heart hammering. Another cryo-locker flew open, and a man tumbled out, crashing into her. They both hit the deck in a heap, limbs flailing.

“Why the hell did I just fall on you?” he wheezed, scrambling to get off her. He was clearly still half out of it from cryo-sleep.

“The Captain’s dead,” she blurted, voice rasping. “I was looking right at him when—” She stopped, fighting off the horrific images. “The hull’s shot. Shields are gone. We’re—”

“Wait!” His voice jumped an octave, eyes darting around. “Not Shields! No, no, that can’t—” He stared at her, then pointed to himself in confusion. “I’m Shields, right?”

For a moment, she just stared. Then a short, bitter laugh escaped her. “Cryo-sleep,” she muttered. “Fries your brain. Every damn time.”

Shields nodded, looking shell-shocked. “Sure does.” Then his eyes slid over her shoulder, and he went pale.

Y/N didn’t have to turn around to know something was there. The air felt different—colder, heavier, and alive with a presence that made her skin crawl. Fear twisted in her gut, relentless.

“Get dressed,” she snapped, snatching a warm-up suit from a storage compartment and thrusting it at him. Her voice shook, but her hands were already flying over the console, checking readings.

“Fifteen-fifty millibars,” she muttered. “Dropping twenty a minute. Dammit, we’re bleeding air. Something nailed us, and it wasn’t gentle.”

Shields clutched the suit like it was the only thing keeping him alive, his hands trembling. “Tell me we’re still in the shipping lane,” he begged. “Tell me it’s just stars out there—endless stars.”

Static crackled on the display as Y/N keyed in commands, her heart pounding. When the screen finally cleared, her stomach twisted. Not stars. Not the vast, empty black she’d hoped for. Instead, a planet loomed—huge, angry, its atmosphere swirling with bruised shades of purple and gray, like a living storm ready to devour them.

“Jesus Christ,” she breathed, the words dropping from her lips like lead.

Then the ship lurched, starting its fall. It began with a savage, grinding howl as the Hunter-Gratzner tried and failed to fight gravity. Metal tore, supports snapped, and the deck tilted under her feet. She lurched forward, scraping her hands on the jagged edge of a console. Smoke stung her eyes, the acrid stench of burning wires filling her lungs.

Through the viewport, the planet’s churning atmosphere rushed up to meet them, a hungry predator closing in. Too close. Too fast. She forced herself to move despite the slanting corridors and the crushing pull of gravity.

Her headset crackled: Shields’ panicked voice cut through the screech of alarms. “They taught you this in training, right? Frenchie? Please tell me you remember the drills!”

She couldn’t answer. She could hardly think. Her surroundings blurred—frost-coated walls, blood smears, cables sparking overhead as she staggered through. By the time she reached the flight deck, she half-collapsed into the pilot’s seat, vision spinning.

Sweat slicked her fingers as she fumbled with the harness. She muttered curses under her breath until, finally, the clasps locked. Slamming her fist against the console, she prayed the failing systems would cooperate one last time. Damaged panels flickered, crash shutters groaning open to reveal the storm outside.

It was like staring into a swirling cauldron—red and gray clouds boiling in pure rage. They weren’t just falling; they were plunging, yanked down by forces well beyond her control. Her hands moved on instinct, flipping switches and twisting knobs in a frantic attempt to steer them out of this dive.

“Crisis program…” Shields’ voice came again, high-pitched and unsteady. “We’ve still got oxygen—fifteen hundred millibars. Surface pressure… oh, God.” He paused, his words faltering. “Maybe the ship’s in a good mood? For once?”

She pictured him cowering at his station, knuckles white, fear bleeding through every syllable. It spiked her own terror.

“Shields,” she croaked, her throat raw. “Focus.”

The stick suddenly jerked in her hands, fighting her attempts to level out. A faint hiss sounded, followed by a dull, bone-rattling thunk that echoed through the cabin like doom itself.

“Frenchie?” Shields’ voice cracked. “What the hell are you doing?”

The jettison doors were sliding shut. Her hand moved almost of its own accord, toggling latches with icy precision. Her thumb hovered over the switch that would shift the ship’s center of gravity—along with its passengers. She trembled, staring at the storm outside. She could practically feel Shields’ stare burning into her.

“Too much weight,” she said, voice taut as a wire about to snap. “I can’t keep the nose up. If I don’t—”

“You mean the passengers,” Shields interrupted, his breath hitching. “Forty people, Frenchie.”

Her jaw locked. “So we both go down? Out of some noble gesture?”

The silence that followed was worse than any alarm. It pressed in on her, suffocating, while outside, the storm raged. Her thumb quivered on the switch, a cold piece of metal that felt like an executioner’s blade.

She could practically feel the planet’s pull, like a weight on her chest. She imagined the look on Shields’ face—disbelief, maybe betrayal. She couldn’t bring herself to look back.

The ship’s hum, once so comforting, was gone—replaced by the wail of stressed metal and piercing sirens.

“Don’t,” Shields whispered, his tone stripped bare. It wasn’t a command or a plea. It was the broken voice of someone who already knew how this could end.

Her head dropped, a ragged sob or curse catching in her throat—she couldn’t tell which. The planet was swallowing them whole, the shaking and roaring all around an echo of the turmoil inside her. Forty lives weighed on her, crushing her soul.

With a sudden cry, she pounded her fist on the console, rattling loose screws and broken panels. The switch remained untouched.

The cryo-lockers hissed open in unison, a sound too serpentine, too alive. Frost curled over the plexiglass, twisting into vaporous tendrils that slithered toward the dim lights overhead. The ship shuddered. The deck groaned beneath the weight of its own failing systems.

Lee stirred inside his locker, fingers sluggish as they wiped at the frost. His thoughts felt submerged, murky, as if he were rising from a deep-sea dive. The overhead fluorescents flickered erratically, throwing jagged shadows across the metal walls. Something was wrong.

Across the aisle, Jungkook moved—slow, deliberate. The black goggles strapped over his eyes made him unreadable, but the sharp glint of metal between his teeth turned his grin into something feral. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. The tension in his frame said everything.

Lee’s gaze snapped to the digital display blinking outside his locker. LOCK-OUT PROTOCOL IN EFFECT. ABSOLUTELY NO EARLY RELEASE. His stomach clenched.

Farther up the cabin, Y/N’s hands gripped the controls so tightly her knuckles blanched. The fractured monitors cast sickly light over her face, her breath coming fast and sharp. Behind her, Shields paced in tight, frantic circles, like a caged animal sensing a coming storm.

“Frenchie,” he barked, voice ragged with barely leashed panic. “NOSA—”

Y/N spun, eyes flashing. “NOSA isn’t here.” Her words cut like a scalpel, slicing clean through the rising chaos.

Shields froze, his lips pressing into a hard line. “The captain’s dead,” he said. No ceremony, no buffer. Just the truth. “That makes you in charge.”

Her laugh was bitter, jagged. “In charge?” Her fist slammed against the console, the impact like a gunshot. “You think a few hundred hours in a simulator prepped me for this?”

Shields unbuckled his harness, rising slow. Deliberate. “Don’t touch that switch,” he warned. His voice was even. Dangerous.

Y/N’s thumb hovered over it, sweat slicking her skin. The ship lurched. A shriek of metal tore through the cabin. Sparks rained down like dying stars. Her pulse hammered. And then—she slammed the switch.

“I’m not dying for them,” she muttered.

The Hunter-Gratzner bucked hard, carving a fiery scar across the sky as it plummeted. The hull shrieked. The jettison system hissed—then fell silent.

Nothing happened. The cryo-lockers remained sealed. Y/N’s breath caught. The switch was flipped, the call made. But the ship had refused her. Forty lives still frozen in limbo.

Shields cursed, hands a frantic blur over the interface. “Seventy seconds! You’ve got seventy seconds to level this beast out, Frenchie!”

She didn’t answer. Her focus tunneled in, every move muscle memory now. Switches flipped. Levers yanked. The ship groaned in protest, but she forced it to obey, wrenching it into some semblance of control.

Through the fractured windshield, the planet’s surface loomed—a maze of jagged rock, waiting to devour them whole. A metallic screech—louder than anything before—split the air as an airbrake tore loose, slamming into the windshield. The impact spiderwebbed the glass, splintering light into chaotic shards. The ship spasmed.

“What the hell was that?!” Shields’ voice was barely a breath through the comm.

Y/N didn’t answer. Her eyes flicked to the ground-mapping display—fractured, glitching, but still her only hope.

Sixty meters.

The cockpit rattled. The frame howled. Her hands were cramping, locked in a death grip on the controls.

Thirty.

The cryo-lockers exhaled in unison, a chorus of ghosts awakening. Lee blinked against the mist, lungs burning.

Ten.

The ship screamed. And then—impact.

The world didn’t just break. It detonated. The windscreen imploded, glass bursting inward like a thousand tiny daggers. The shockwave slammed Y/N back against her seat, her harness biting into her ribs. The cockpit filled with dust and debris, a choking maelstrom that turned every breath into a struggle.

In the passenger bay, Lee’s cryo-locker ejected with a violent hiss, spitting him onto the wreckage-strewn floor. His lungs seized as he gasped for air, mind reeling. Sparks flickered, casting eerie, broken light over the twisted remains of the ship.

His gaze caught on a massive crack splitting the hull—a wound too deep, too final.

Then—the groan. Deep, reverberating. A death knell. And the tearing.

A whole section of the ship peeled away, sliding free like dead skin. Rows of cryo-lockers went with it, vanishing into the swirling dust outside. Forty lockers. Forty people. Gone.

Shields’ voice crackled in Lee’s ear, raw, shaking. “We’re still breathing,” he rasped. “Oxygen’s holding at fifteen hundred millibars. Surface pressure… survivable.”

The word sounded like a joke. Lee pushed himself upright, legs shaking, ears ringing. The air was thick with the stench of scorched metal, blood, death. Around him, cries of pain cut through the chaos—some sharp and frantic, others weak, fading.

Jungkook’s cryo-locker was open. Empty. A slow, insidious chill climbed up Lee’s spine. His fingers darted to his hip, searching for his holster—gone. The unease slithered deeper, turning his gut into a leaden knot. He raised his flashlight, the beam cutting jagged arcs through the dust-choked air.

Then—a sound. Metal on metal. Rhythmic. Deliberate. Chains. The hairs on Lee’s neck stood on end. His breath shallowed. Slowly, unwillingly, he turned toward the noise. Two feet lowered into view from the shadows above—bare, bound in chains that whispered with each measured step.

His descent was too smooth, too unnatural. The black goggles strapped over his eyes caught the flickering light, cold and alien. The bit clamped between his teeth forced his mouth into something almost feral—not quite human.

Lee barely had time to react. The chain lashed toward him, a whip of coiled steel snapping tight around his throat. He staggered, hands clawing at the cold metal cutting off his air. Jungkook moved with silent precision, tightening the chain with a slow, measured pull. The darkness swayed. Lee’s vision blurred at the edges.

No. Not like this.

His fingers fumbled for the baton at his side. A flick—snap—and it extended, steel glinting in the fractured light.

Swing.

The first strike glanced off Jungkook’s ribs. No reaction. The second hit harder, enough to make the chain slacken just a fraction—enough to breathe. Lee’s instincts took over. He drove the baton up, hard, straight into Jungkook’s throat.

The force sent them both crashing to the floor. The impact rattled the remnants of the ship around them, a chorus of groaning metal and falling debris. Lee pinned Jungkook down, pressing his forearm hard against his throat. His breath was ragged, raw.

“One chance,” he growled, voice rough with fury. “You blew it.”

The dust began to settle. The ship around them was barely holding together—a skeletal ruin of scorched steel and shattered glass. Then, Lee’s flashlight caught a flicker of movement—a woman. He recognized her from when they boarded. The co-pilot. Her name was lost on him. Blood streaked her face, hair matted to her forehead, breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. But she was breathing.

“Over here,” she rasped. Steady. Unbreakable.

Lee stumbled toward her, boots crunching over shattered wreckage. He crouched, hands moving instinctively, shoving aside the debris pinning her down. The ship groaned with each piece he wrenched free, as if it resented his efforts.

And then—her legs were free. He hauled her up, her weight solid against him, but she barely found her footing before the reality of their situation slammed into her. Not just broken. Annihilated.

Her knees buckled. She sank, hands clawing at the scattered wreckage as if she could piece it all back together. Her lips parted. “Shields.” A whisper.

Then, frantic movement. She shoved aside jagged fragments of steel, shattered screens, the torn remains of the captain’s chair—anything, everything standing between her and what she already knew she’d find.

And then—she did. Strapped to his chair. A metal rod—long, jagged—pierced straight through his chest, impaling him like some grotesque marionette. Blood seeped in slow, dark rivers, pooling beneath him.

His eyes flew open. Wide. Wild. Panic-stricken. “OUT!” His scream ripped through the air. “GET IT OUT OF ME!”

Y/N jerked back, breath hitching. Around her, the others stumbled into the nav-bay, voices colliding in chaotic bursts.

“Pull it out!”

“No, leave it! You’ll kill him!”

“We don’t have a choice—just do it!”

The noise. The suffocating stench of blood and scorched wiring. It all pressed in, a heavy, cloying thing clawing at her senses. Her eyes flicked to the wall—where the med-locker should have been. Gone. Nothing left. Her pulse spiked. No anestaphine. No painkillers. Nothing. But she knew that already. She knew.

Her mind snapped into triage mode, training she hadn’t used since she’d first boarded the Starfire. The H-G had small med kits—scattered across compartments, emergency supplies meant for minor injuries, burns, fractures. Enough for patchwork. Not for this.

A quick scan of the room told her where they were—one in the overhead hatch, another tucked beneath the paneling by the nav station. She didn’t move. Didn’t go for them. Because she knew. Shields was going to die.

It didn’t matter if she used the last of their coagulants, their sterile dressings, their dwindling supply of stim injectors. The rod had pierced deep—a lung, maybe his aorta. If they pulled it, he’d bleed out in seconds. If they left it, he’d drown in his own blood.

There was no saving him. Silence crashed over them. Shields’ breathing was slowing, each rasping gasp a grim countdown. Y/N straightened. Her voice dropped—low, steady. Cold.

“Everyone. Back.”

The others froze, hesitated—then stepped away, shuffling like ghosts. Only Lee lingered. His gaze flicked to Jungkook’s bound form in the corner. Even shackled, Jungkook radiated menace, his stillness more unnerving than motion ever could be.

Y/N barely registered him. Her focus was on Shields. His body trembled beneath her hands, breath thin, ragged. She pressed her palm just above the wound, steadying him. He was shaking. Not from pain. From fear.

His eyes locked onto hers, searching—desperate. “I can’t die like this.”

The words were barely a whisper. Her throat tightened. “You won’t,” she lied. Because that’s what you did for the dying. You gave them something to hold onto. Even if it wasn’t real. She tightened her grip on his hand, let her voice drop to something softer. “This is going to hurt,” she murmured.

The suns hit like a clenched fist, brutal and unrelenting. Twin orbs, one molten red, the other a vicious yellow, scorched the sky and stretched jagged, overlapping shadows across the cracked, barren earth. The heat wasn’t just heat—it was something alive, something with teeth, pressing in, coiling tight around their throats, stealing breath with every shallow inhale. The air was dry, acrid, thick with dust that swirled at their boots, carried by a wind that keened through the desolation like a dying thing whispering its last confession.

The survivors stood in uneasy clusters, their movements wary, shapes distorted against the shimmering horizon. No one strode forward with confidence. Every step was measured, hesitant—like the planet itself might open its mouth and swallow them whole if they made the wrong move.

Daku and Bindi stood apart from the rest, a fortress of two. Daku was stillness carved from stone, his sharp gaze sweeping the alien expanse with the quiet calculation of a man who had survived worse. Bindi, by contrast, was all coiled energy, lean muscle stretched taut over bone, every movement precise. Not panicked. Just prepared.

Peter lingered at the edge of the group, dabbing at his sunburned face with a monogrammed handkerchief that belonged in a boardroom, not here. He let out a brittle, humorless laugh. “Welcome to paradise.” His voice was thin, dry as the air, and it barely made it past his chapped lips. No one laughed. There was no room for humor here.

In the distance, the wreckage of their ship lay sprawled against the cracked earth like the carcass of some great, wounded beast. Twisted metal jutted at odd angles, blackened from the crash, half-buried in the dust like the bones of something the sky had spit out and abandoned. It was silent now, but it didn’t feel still. It felt like it was waiting.

Inside, Y/N moved through the ruins, hands working mechanically, searching through the wreckage for anything salvageable. The silence pressed against her like a second atmosphere—thick, oppressive, wrong. The ship had once been their salvation. Now it was nothing more than a graveyard.

Near the wreckage, the Chrislams had gathered in a tight circle, white robes stark against the dust-streaked ground. Their heads were bowed, their lips moving in silent prayers—or grief. It was hard to tell which. Namjoon stood at their center, broad shoulders squared, his presence anchoring them even as doubt flickered across the younger pilgrims’ faces. Their hands fidgeted at the wooden crosses and crescent pendants hanging from their necks, symbols of faith that suddenly felt like relics of a world too far away to matter anymore.

A boy, no older than fifteen, broke the silence, his voice raw with desperation. “Which way is New Mecca?” His hands were pressed together, pleading. “We need to know where to pray.”

The words hung in the air, weightless, useless. There was no north here. No compass points. No stars to guide them. Just endless wasteland stretching toward an indifferent horizon. Jagged hills clawed at the sky like broken teeth, dark silhouettes against the searing light.

Namjoon lifted his face, squinting against the blinding suns, searching for something—an answer, a direction, a sign. But the sky gave him nothing.

Lee fumbled with a battered compass, flicked it open, watched the needle spin uselessly before snapping it shut with a frustrated hiss. “Even this thing’s lost.” He shoved it back into his pocket.

The ship groaned behind them, a deep, wounded sound, like something exhaling its last breath.

Inside, Y/N sat on the scorched floor, her back pressed against cold metal. Shields’ body was cradled in her lap, his head resting against her chest. The rod that had impaled him was still there—a grotesque, final punctuation mark. His blood was thick and dark against her hands, its metallic tang heavy in the air.

She had tried. God, she had tried. She had shouted orders, whispered reassurances, prayed to gods she never believed in. But none of it had been enough.

The others had moved on, their voices distant through the ruined hull. But Y/N stayed.

Because this wasn’t just a wreckage. It was a grave. And she was the only mourner.

The twin suns poured their merciless light through the jagged tear in the hull, turning dust into molten gold. It shimmered, beautiful in the way cruel things often were—dazzling, deceptive. The light exposed everything. Every failure, every flaw. There was nowhere to hide.

Y/N shifted, her muscles trembling, stiff with exhaustion as she eased Shields’ body to the floor. Her fingers lingered at his shoulder, unwilling to sever that last, fragile tether to the man he had been. The warmth was already leeching from his skin.

Then, slowly, she rose.

Outside was worse.

The heat struck like a hammer, thick, oppressive, pushing against her lungs with every breath. Dust swirled in restless eddies at her feet, the wind sharp as glass, carving at her skin, splitting her lips. A few yards away, the Chrislams knelt in the dirt, heads bowed, lips moving in murmured prayers. Their voices were barely a ripple against the keening wind, but it was the only human sound left in this place. For a moment, she let it fill the cracks inside her, a balm against the unraveling edges of her sanity.

Lee stood apart, one hand raised to shield his eyes against the glare. His jaw was tight, his shoulders locked, a silent fortress against whatever storm raged inside him. When Y/N stepped down from the wreckage, his gaze flicked to her, brief but cutting. He didn’t speak. Neither did she. Some things didn’t need to be said.

The land stretched before them, vast, indifferent. Jagged hills rose like broken ribs, their peaks tearing into the sky. Shadows pooled in the valleys, deep and impenetrable, as though the planet itself was swallowing the light. There was no refuge. No soft place to land. Only the brutal reality of survival.

Y/N swallowed against the rawness in her throat. “We’re on our own now.”

The words weren’t a revelation. They were a sentence.

No rescue was coming. No help would break through this alien sky.

She squared her shoulders beneath the weight of it, forcing one foot in front of the other, because the only way out was forward. Even when everything inside her begged to turn back.

The suns glared down, merciless and unblinking, turning the wreckage into a molten skeleton of what it had once been. Heat shimmered off the twisted metal, a feverish mirage making the debris seem like it was still shifting, still alive. But it wasn’t. It was dead—just like the people who hadn’t made it out.

Y/N climbed the jagged remains of the hull, her boots slipping against scorched metal, her fingers gripping the torn edges of a fractured panel. Her muscles ached, her breath came too short, too shallow. The air was too thin. Too dry. It scraped against her throat like sandpaper, and every inhale felt like a battle she was losing.

Below, the Chrislams knelt in the dust, their white robes dirtied and torn but still stark against the wasteland. Their soft prayers were barely audible over the dry, keening wind—a thread of humanity in a place that had none. Y/N let it wash over her for just a moment, a faint tether to something beyond survival.

Further up the wreckage, the others waited—Lee, Peter, Daku, Bindi, Leo. Their faces were carved with exhaustion, their silence heavier than the heat pressing down on them. Smoke curled from the wreckage behind them, black tendrils rising into the hazy sky. The crash had scarred the earth itself, leaving a deep trench of twisted metal and scorched rock, a wound with no hope of healing.

Y/N reached the top of the wreckage and let her gaze sweep the horizon. The planet stretched out before them in a wasteland of jagged rock and dust, the ground cracked and splintered like old bone. Sharp-edged hills rose in the distance, their peaks like broken teeth against the sky. There was no movement. No color. No life.

Only death, waiting for its turn.

“No one else made it,” she said, her voice low, steady. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even an observation. It was a fact, as solid as the wreckage beneath her feet.

Silence stretched between them until Lee finally spoke, his voice dry and edged with bitterness. “They said there’d be a scouting party here.” He gestured toward the empty valley below, his words laced with grim sarcasm. “Guess they forgot the welcome committee.”

Peter coughed, dabbing at his sunburned face with that ridiculous monogrammed handkerchief. “Lovely spot,” he muttered. “Really. I mean, who doesn’t love the sensation of their lungs turning to parchment? Very exotic. Five stars.”

Y/N barely acknowledged him. Her focus was on the facts. The data. “The air’s too thin,” she said, voice clipped, clinical. “Not enough oxygen. Our bodies aren’t used to it. We’ll adjust, but it won’t be comfortable.”

Leo wiped sweat from his forehead, his face pale despite the heat. “Feels like breathing through a straw,” he muttered.

Peter waved his handkerchief dramatically. “Asthmatic here. Literal hell. Can I file a complaint, or is that not an option?”

“Enough,” Daku said, his voice cutting through the noise. His stance was firm, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze locked onto Y/N. “What happened?”

Y/N exhaled, rolling her shoulders against the weight of the question. “Debris. A rogue comet. A navigational error. I don’t know.” The admission felt like acid on her tongue. “What matters is that we’re here.”

“And alive,” Bindi added. Her tone was even, but there was something behind it—reluctant gratitude. “You got us down. That’s more than most pilots could have done.”

The words stung. Not because they were meant to, but because they weren’t true. Y/N knew that. They thought she’d saved them. But she knew better.

It wasn’t skill that had brought them down in one piece. It was luck. And luck never lasted.

She led them into what remained of the equipment bay, stepping over shattered panels, ducking beneath dangling wires. The air was thick with the scent of burned circuits and something else—something metallic and bitter. Blood.

Failure.

She knelt by a pile of debris and yanked free a suit, its fabric stiff with scorch marks. It would have to do. Holding it up, she said, “Liquid oxygen canisters. We rip them out. Short bursts, make them last. We don’t know how long we’ll need them.”

The group moved into action, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten in the face of survival. Leo lingered near her, watching her with an unsettling calm.

“Is someone coming for us?” he asked, voice steady in a way that made her stomach turn. “Or are we just gonna die here?”

The question hit like a stone dropped into deep water, sending ripples through the group. Y/N didn’t answer immediately. Her fingers tightened on the suit, knuckles whitening.

The others had paused, their movements stilled by the weight of the words.

Leo tilted his head. “I can handle it,” he said, softer now. “If we’re not making it out, you can just say so.”

Bindi stepped in, resting a firm hand on his shoulder. “We’re not giving up,” she said, her voice calm but absolute. “Not today.”

Leo hesitated, his bravado slipping just enough to reveal the scared kid underneath. Then he nodded.

The cabin reeked of sweat, scorched metal, and desperation. Shadows stretched long in the dim light, pooling in the corners, turning everything into a graveyard of broken machinery and shattered hope.

Y/N’s gaze drifted to the far side of the bulkhead, where Jungkook sat shackled and still, his presence more a quiet threat than anything else. The dark goggles covering his eyes reflected the dim light, a black void revealing nothing—no fear, no anger, no desperation. Just absence.

He didn’t fidget. Didn’t test his restraints. Didn’t move at all. That was what made him dangerous.

Yet, despite the cold knot of unease tightening in her stomach, Y/N couldn’t help but notice—he was beautiful.

Not in the clean-cut, manufactured way of men who knew they were being watched. No, there was something raw about him, something untamed. He was tall, all lean muscle wrapped in pale skin, the sinew of a predator coiled beneath the surface. His inky black hair was too long, falling into his face in uneven layers, the kind of overgrowth that should’ve looked unkempt but only made him more striking.

And then there were the tattoos.

They climbed up his arms in a chaotic symphony of ink, patterns and symbols weaving together into something intricate, something deliberate. Black ink against pale skin. A story written in the language of the damned.

Y/N’s throat went dry. Did they stop at his arms? Or did they go further, trailing over his ribs, down his back, curling against his hips? The thought hit like a static charge, sharp and unbidden. She swallowed, dragging her gaze away before she could entertain it any further.

“What about him?” she asked, her voice low, unsure despite herself.

Lee snorted, smirking. “Big Evil? Leave him locked up.”

Y/N forced herself to focus. “We don’t have forever,” she snapped, frustration bubbling up before she could reel it in. She exhaled sharply, running a hand over her face. “He broke out of a max-slam facility. Do you really think a pair of cuffs is enough?”

Lee shrugged, careless. “Only dangerous around humans,” he muttered, his voice thick with implication.

Before Y/N could fire back, movement caught her eye—a thin, silver thread trickling down the hull, glinting against the harsh twin suns.

Her stomach clenched.

Water.

Everything else vanished.

Her body moved before her mind could catch up, scrambling over the wreckage, boots slipping against warped metal. The sting of sharp edges against her palms didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was reaching the cistern before it was too late.

She wrenched open the hatch, metal scorching beneath her fingers. Sunlight flooded in, illuminating the nightmare inside.

A thin, glistening stream dribbled from a deep fracture in the steel, seeping into the cracked earth below. The ground drank greedily, dark stains blooming where the precious liquid had been only moments before.

Y/N’s breath hitched. A curse slipped past her lips, low and raw. This wasn’t just a leak. This was death.

Footsteps crunched behind her, the others approaching in hesitant silence. No one spoke. They didn’t need to. The truth lay bare before them, glinting in the relentless light.

Y/N leaned heavily against the hatch, her fingers pressing against the scalding metal as if to steady herself. Her gaze stayed locked on the dirt, watching helplessly as the last of the water disappeared, vanishing like hope itself.

The planet wasn’t just going to kill them. It was going to make them watch while it did.

A muscle ticked in her jaw. Her nails bit into her palms until pain cut through the spiraling thoughts. No. There wasn’t time for this—not for despair, not for grief. The planet would take everything if they let it, and she refused to give it that satisfaction.

She turned away from the empty cistern, shoulders squared against the weight pressing down on her. The others were watching, sweat streaking their dirt-smeared faces, fear barely concealed behind exhaustion. They were waiting for her to tell them what to do.

“We keep moving,” she said, her voice steady despite the scream clawing at her insides. “We’ll find more. There’s always something out there.”

The words tasted like lies. But lies could keep people alive. And right now, survival was the only thing that mattered.

The cargo hold reeked of scorched wiring and failure—the kind of failure that clung to your skin, settled in your lungs, and made itself at home. The air was thick with it, stifling, oppressive. Y/N wiped a grimy hand across her forehead and pressed on, stepping over shattered panels and the twisted wreckage of what had once been their future.

Somewhere in this mess, there were MRAs. Mobile Resource Augmenters. Compact, efficient, life-saving. They were designed to extract moisture from the air, convert it into drinkable water, and they sure as hell weren’t cheap. NOSA wouldn’t have sent them on a long-haul mission without at least a few onboard.

She knew they were here, but no one else seemed to care.

Y/N was used to working with the best—astronauts trained to push beyond the limits of human endurance. On Aguerra Prime, her name meant something. She was a government official, a veteran of deep-space missions, one of the top-ranked astronauts in NOSA’s fleet. She had survived hostile environments before.

This, though? This was worse. Because she was surrounded by people who should have been fighting to survive—but weren’t.

Peter moved through the wreckage with a magician’s flourish, fingers dancing over the lock of a sealed crate like he was about to unveil something miraculous. The lid groaned open, dust puffing into the stale air, and inside lay…

Furniture. Tiffany chairs. Polished bronze lecterns. An entire crate filled with useless, gaudy antiques.

Lee let out a sharp whistle, nudging the crate with his boot. “King Tut’s tomb,” he muttered. “Just what we needed.”

Peter’s face lit up, eyes gleaming as he ran a reverent hand over an antique desk. “This,” he murmured, “is Wooten. A very rare piece, mind you.”

Y/N stared at him, patience fraying like old wiring. “A desk?” she asked, her voice sharper than the heat outside. “Not food. Not water. A desk?”

Peter waved her off, as if she were the one being unreasonable. “Not just a desk,” he corrected, prying open a hidden compartment.

Nestled inside, gleaming like a sick joke, sat a row of liquor bottles. Sherry. Scotch. Vintage port.

Y/N felt something snap. “We’re dying of thirst, and you brought booze?”

Peter stiffened, his hand hovering protectively over the bottles. “Two-hundred-year-old single-malt scotch,” he said, tone dripping with wounded pride. “To call it ‘booze’ is like calling foie gras ‘duck guts.’”

Lee barked a laugh, already reaching for a bottle. The seal cracked with a soft pop, and the sharp scent of aged alcohol filled the air, thick and cloying. He raised it mockingly. “Here’s to survival—or whatever the hell he just said.”

Y/N clenched her jaw so tightly it ached.

She had spent the last hour shifting wreckage, trying to move beams twice her weight, searching for anything that could actually keep them alive.

And these idiots were getting drunk.

Her gaze flicked to the scattered debris. There were still places she hadn’t checked, still a chance the MRAs were buried under the twisted metal, waiting for someone to dig them out.

But as she looked around, at Peter cradling his precious scotch, at Lee tipping his bottle back like this was some kind of vacation, at the rest of them barely pretending to care—she felt the fight drain out of her.

No one was going to help her, and she was done trying to save people who didn’t want to be saved.

She exhaled sharply, the decision settling like a stone in her stomach. Without a word, she turned on her heel, stepping away from the wreckage, away from the lost cause unfolding in front of her.

She had been trained to adapt, to survive no matter what. But NOSA had never prepared her for this. The footsteps came before the words.

Namjoon and his followers stepped into the wreckage, their white robes streaked with dust but still somehow immaculate, like they existed just outside the filth and chaos consuming the rest of them. The Chrislams moved with that same unsettling calm, like they hadn’t yet realized the depth of their predicament.

Y/N barely spared them a glance. She was past caring.

But Lee—still riding the high of finding nothing useful—wasn’t about to let them pass without commentary.

He slammed his bottle onto a metal crate with a hollow clink, his frustration breaking through the haze of heat and exhaustion. “For what?” he demanded, voice sharp. “There’s no water. No food. Just rocks, dust, and death as far as the eye can see.”

Namjoon met his glare without flinching. “All deserts have water,” he said softly. “Somewhere.”

Lee let out a dry, bitter laugh. “Great. You talk to God, then? He got directions?”

Namjoon didn’t blink.

“God will lead us there.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and immovable, like the wreckage around them. Y/N bit down on the retort bubbling up in her throat, but the pragmatist in her screamed louder than any prayer. Water didn’t come from faith. It came from work, from tearing apart this wreck until her hands bled.

“While God’s drawing up a map,” she muttered, turning back to the containers, “we’ll keep looking.”

Namjoon inclined his head respectfully and led his followers away, their murmured prayers fading into the distance. For a moment, Y/N envied their calm. Then Peter’s humming broke the quiet, his fingers trailing lovingly over the polished wood of the desk as if cataloging a museum piece. Her jaw tightened, but she swallowed the urge to snap. Wasting energy on him wasn’t worth it.

Lee pried open another container with a sharp kick, sending a plume of dust into the air. Inside was a heap of torn fabric and broken machinery, tangled and useless. He swore under his breath and shoved it aside, his frustration vibrating in every movement. “This is a goddamn joke,” he muttered. “We’re supposed to survive with this?”

“Keep looking,” Y/N snapped. Her voice cracked like a whip, harsh and desperate. The panic simmering just beneath her surface slipped through. “We don’t find water soon, no one’s making it out of here.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the scrape of metal and the mournful whistle of wind through the wreckage. Outside, the suns continued their relentless assault, the wind carrying dust and the heavy weight of despair. Y/N pressed her hand against the ship’s hull, the heat seeping into her palm. Every moment without progress felt like another step closer to death.

She moved toward the equipment bay, her focus narrowing. Somewhere in the wreckage were the pieces of the ship’s water generator. If she could just find them—just piece it together—they wouldn’t have to rely on the barren, unforgiving land outside. But her concentration splintered, fraying with every glance at the others.

Peter’s oblivious grin. Lee’s sharp frustration. Namjoon’s calm certainty. All of it clung to her like the heat, pressing in, pulling her mind away from the task at hand.

Her fingers brushed against a bent panel, her breath hitching as she caught sight of something familiar—part of the generator’s casing. Relief surged, but it was fleeting. The casing was twisted, its edges sharp and useless without the core components. Her chest tightened as she knelt, wrenching it free, her hands shaking as she turned it over in search of something—anything—that could still work.

Behind her, Leo’s small voice cut through the haze. “So,” he said, too calm for a kid his age. “What happens if we don’t find it? The water?”

The question hit her like a blow, her grip tightening on the casing. Around her, the others stilled, their movements halting under the weight of Leo’s words.

“You don’t have to pretend for me,” he added, his tone flat, unflinching. “I can take it.”

Y/N closed her eyes, her breath shaky. When she finally spoke, her voice was brittle, scraping against the silence. “We’ll find it.”

It wasn’t an answer. It was a promise. And God help her, she didn’t know if she could keep it.

The ship groaned like a dying animal, its ruptured hull straining against the inevitable. Twisted metal rasped against itself, the sound a constant needle under the skin, an itch that couldn’t be scratched. Dust hung thick in the air, turned to gold by the merciless twin suns that stabbed through the fractured ceiling. Every breath tasted of scorched circuitry and hydraulic fluid, the scent of ruin and slow decay.

Jungkook sat in the shadows, chained to the bulkhead, utterly still. Not the stillness of resignation—but of patience. Of calculation. His wrists, raw from steel cuffs, rested against his thighs, fingers loose, body deceptively relaxed. The dark goggles strapped over his eyes reflected slivers of fractured light, a predator’s gaze hidden behind black glass. The mouth-bit locked over his teeth was meant to make him less dangerous.

It only made him look like a caged beast waiting for the lock to fail.

The ship shifted again, the wreckage settling into itself. He ignored it. The ship was already dead. That wasn’t his problem.

But Y/N’s absence was. Not that he cared. Not really.

But she was the only one in this mess who wasn’t an idiot. The only one who thought ahead. Moved with purpose. Her voice carried weight, her commands cutting through chaos like a blade. That kind of control was rare. Most people shattered when things got bad. She didn’t.

Still, he’d expected more when he first got a good look at her. Too lean. Too sharp. Built for function, not decoration. No softness, nothing extra. Not the kind of woman who caught his eye.

But then she’d spoken. And the way the room shifted around her—the way even the air seemed to move when she did—had made him reconsider.

Not beautiful, but something. And that something was more interesting than pretty.

Jungkook rolled his shoulders, cataloging the weight of his restraints, the tension in his muscles already fading. The nickname he’d overheard while half-conscious surfaced in his mind.

Frenchie. Too small. Too soft. Didn’t suit her at all.

The cutting torch lay just out of reach, its dull gleam a whisper in the wreckage. His head tilted slightly, lips curling behind the bit—not a smile, something colder. The ship was quiet now, save for the occasional creak, but Jungkook had already mapped every fracture, every weakness, every way out. The crack in the hull above him was subtle, barely there.

To anyone else. To Jungkook, it was an invitation. A flaw. A way through.

He shifted, testing the give of his chains. Metal rasped against metal, a whisper swallowed by the ship’s dying groans. He didn’t flinch. He just moved slower, smoother—a shadow moving through shadows.

Then, without hesitation, a sickening pop shattered the silence.

His left shoulder dislocated, tendons twisting, bones shifting in a grotesque ballet of control. Pain flickered at the edge of his consciousness, a distant thing, irrelevant. His breath remained steady.

Another pop. The right shoulder went next.

He exhaled slowly, muscles flexing, and with a sharp, brutal motion, his arms twisted through the narrow gap between his head and the bulkhead. His hands, now free, hung limp at his sides. For a moment, nothing moved. Then, with a precise, measured force, he rolled his shoulders back into place. The snap of bone meeting socket reverberated through the cabin, a sound that made most men sick.

Jungkook barely noticed.

The cuffs slipped from his wrists, hitting the floor with a final, hollow clatter.

He rose in one smooth motion, unfolding to his full height, presence suddenly too much for the cramped space. The air felt different. Thicker. 

He stepped forward, moving toward the torch, his bare feet silent against the floor. The chains lay abandoned behind him, the weight of them meaningless now. The torch was warm against his fingers as he picked it up, rolling it once in his palm, adjusting to its feel.

Then he turned.

The goggles hid his eyes, but the smirk behind the bit was unmistakable.

The cutting torch hummed to life in his grip, a low, vibrating growl that filled the silence.

He was free.

The world beyond the wreckage was a graveyard—heat and silence stretched endlessly in every direction, oppressive, unyielding. Twin suns hung in the sky like merciless sentinels, their light leeching color from the landscape until only stark, blinding desolation remained. The ground was a cracked, scorched wound, dust spiraling in restless eddies, threading through jagged rock formations and yawning craters. In the distance, hills wavered like mirages, ghostly illusions rippling in the heat, always there, never reachable.

Lee stood at the edge of the ruin, half in shadow, half in the unrelenting blaze of the suns. The tang of sweat and burnt metal clung thick in the air, catching at the back of his throat. His pistol rested loosely in his grip, a lifeline more than a weapon. A thing to hold onto. A reminder that he wasn’t defenseless, even if the planet seemed indifferent to the concept of survival.

The silence pressed in, heavy. Wrong.

Silence should’ve been relief. Silence should’ve meant safety. But this wasn’t that kind of quiet. This was the kind that watched. The kind that waited.

His gaze swept the horizon, scanning the brittle, broken ground for something—anything—out of place. But the emptiness was deceptive, shifting, playing tricks on his eyes. The wreckage groaned behind him, metal expanding under the punishing heat. The ship was dying, settling into its grave. He ignored it. There were more immediate concerns.

Then—movement.

Not much. Just a glint, half-buried in the dust. A sliver of something reflecting the twin suns. Lee exhaled slowly, crouched, and reached for it, brushing aside the grit with careful, practiced efficiency.

The object came into view. A curved piece of metal. Scuffed. Worn. Unmistakable. His stomach dropped. The mouth-bit. Jungkook’s.

Lee straightened too fast, the bit still clutched in his hand, his fingers tightening around it like it might bite him. His other hand curled reflexively around the pistol’s grip, knuckles bloodless. The planet, empty and endless just moments ago, now felt like a set of teeth closing in.

Jungkook was loose. The realization landed like a hammer blow, cold despite the heat.

Lee had seen what the man could do—shackled. What he could be, even when restrained by steel and sedation. Now, the shackles were gone. The bit that had kept him contained was nothing more than a useless scrap of metal in Lee’s hand.

And Jungkook was out there. Somewhere. Lee scanned the landscape again, but the terrain mocked him. Too much space. Too many places to disappear. Too many places to hunt from.

The wreckage of the ship loomed behind him. The others were still inside—Bindi, Namjoon, Peter. Oblivious. They had no idea what had just been set loose into their already precarious existence.

Lee’s jaw clenched. Like we needed another way to die.

He turned the bit over in his palm, its edges smooth from use, from time, from teeth. He should’ve known. They all should’ve known. But it had been easier to ignore the truth than to face it.

Now, that denial had come at a cost.

The wind kicked up, whispering through the wreckage, sending dust scuttling across the cracked earth. The sound of it sent a chill down his spine, because it wasn’t the wind he was afraid of.

Lee shoved the bit into his pocket, a grim token of what lurked beyond the ship’s broken hull. Jungkook wasn’t just a problem. He wasn’t just dangerous. He was intentional. A force of nature with purpose. Whatever he wanted, whatever he was planning, it wasn’t going to end well for anyone.

He turned back toward the ship, every muscle wired tight, every step measured. The pistol was steady in his grip now, but the weight of it felt inadequate.

This wasn’t over. Not even close. The silence had changed. It wasn’t just emptiness anymore. It was a warning. Jungkook wasn’t watching from a distance.

The cargo hold was a machine of chaos—loud, desperate, and running on the thin fuel of fear. People moved like scavengers, tearing through storage lockers, prying open crates with bloodied hands, dragging whatever they could find into the nav-bay. Metal clattered, plastic scraped, breathless grunts and muttered curses filled the stale air. Dust spiraled in the fractured sunlight slanting through the ship’s wounds, turning the space into a golden, suffocating haze.

Y/N stood on the outskirts, arms crossed, watching. It wasn’t much of a stockpile, but it was all they had.

The room—once a hub of order and precision—now looked like a battlefield before the war even began. Broken panels, exposed wiring, the remains of shattered instruments littered the floor. In the middle of it all, their growing pile of salvaged weapons stood like an altar to survival.

Lee stepped up first. No hesitation, no wasted motion. He crouched beside the pile and inspected his finds: a pistol, a shotgun, a baton. Well-used, well-loved. The shotgun bore the scars of a hard life—scratched barrel, faded stock—but the way Lee handled it left no doubt. The weapon was an extension of him. He loaded it with quiet efficiency, each metallic clink settling into the uneasy silence.

Behind him, Daku and Bindi added their contributions. A battered pickaxe, a handful of digging tools, and an old hunting boomerang—its edges worn, its surface scarred. Daku flicked his wrist, testing its balance. He nodded once, satisfied. Bindi, hovering close, scanned the room with sharp eyes, daring anyone to question their worth.

Then Namjoon stepped forward.

A ceremonial blade. Ancient. Ornate. The kind meant for rituals, not combat. The hilt gleamed under the dim light, its intricate carvings whispering of old traditions. But the edge—thin, honed—was made to cut. He set it down carefully, with a reverence that stood in stark contrast to the chaos around him.

And then there was Peter.

He stumbled into the room, arms overfilled with weapons that didn’t belong on a battlefield. His face was red, breath heavy, but he carried his haul like it meant something. He nearly tripped over a loose wire before dumping his findings onto the pile.

Silence followed.

Polished war-picks. A blow-dart hunting stick. A collection of relics that belonged in a museum, not a fight for survival.

Lee stared. “The hell are these?”

Peter straightened, his expression hovering somewhere between pride and offense. “Maratha crow-bill war-picks,” he declared, lifting one like a trophy. “Northern India. Extremely rare.”

Daku snorted. He picked up the hunting stick, turning it over in his hands, unimpressed. “And this?”

“Blow-dart hunting stick,” Peter shot back defensively. “Papua New Guinea. One of a kind.”

Daku let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh, tossing the stick back onto the pile. “Looks like they went extinct for a reason.”

Peter’s face darkened. His fingers curled around the remaining items like they might be snatched away. “Why are we even bothering with this?” he snapped. “If Jungkook’s gone, he’s gone. Why should we care?”

The air changed. The tension turned solid.

Lee was the first to break the silence. He stepped forward, slow, deliberate, his voice razor-edged. “First,” he said, his tone like the cocking of a gun, “because he can only survive out there for so long. Sooner or later, he’s coming back—for supplies. For water. For us.”

He let that settle, let them feel the weight of it.

“Second,” he continued, lowering his voice even further, “because killing is the only thing he’s ever been good at. And he likes it.”

No one spoke. No one moved.

Y/N felt the weight of those words settle into her chest, heavy as a loaded weapon. Jungkook wasn’t just a problem. He wasn’t a rogue element in their calculations.

He was a predator. And they were his prey. As if on cue, the group reached for their weapons.

Lee holstered the shotgun, his grip firm. Daku tested the boomerang again, tracing its edges with quiet precision. Even Peter, reluctant as he was, finally set one of his prized war-picks on the pile, his fingers lingering before he let go.

Y/N reached for the ceremonial blade.

It wasn’t made for this, but it would do. The weight of it felt strange in her hand, but solid. Steady. A promise.

The wind howled through the ruined hull, carrying the dry, metallic scent of the wasteland beyond. The horizon remained still, jagged peaks unmoving, but inside the ship, something had shifted.

The air felt electric. Like the moment before a storm. Y/N glanced at the others, their faces cast in flickering shadows. They were ready—or as ready as they could be.

Jungkook wasn’t gone. He was out there. Watching. Waiting. And now, so were they.

The ship jutted from the earth like a rusted blade, its jagged metal edges catching the dying light of twin suns. One burned a deep red, sinking low on the horizon, while the other clung stubbornly to the sky, casting long, broken shadows across the wasteland. Wind whispered through the wreckage, carrying the dry scent of scorched metal and sand, a faint, restless sound in the vast stillness.

Lee perched high on the hull, rifle balanced against his shoulder. His silhouette was razor-sharp against the sky’s bleeding colors. He moved only when necessary, scanning the horizon with a hunter’s patience, the kind of stillness that meant survival.

Then—movement.

A flicker. A distortion at the edge of his vision. His grip tightened. His breath held. What the hell was that?

The words barely escaped his lips, lost to the wind before anyone below could hear them.

On the ground, the others worked against time, piecing together survival from the ship’s remains. Daku and Bindi crouched over a makeshift workbench—little more than a pile of salvaged crates and twisted panels. They moved with careful efficiency, assembling breather units from scavenged tubing and half-broken filters. Each strap tightened, each valve checked, because failure wasn’t an option.

“Try it now,” Daku muttered, handing one to Leo.

The boy lifted it to his face, inhaling tentatively. A soft hiss, the measured release of oxygen. Relief flickered across his face, there and gone in an instant.

A few yards away, the Chrislams worked in silence, layering cloth over their heads, tying knots with practiced hands. Their transformation was seamless—fluid—turning them into nomads, figures that belonged to this land in a way the rest of them never would. Namjoon moved among them, his presence steady, guiding younger pilgrims as they secured their wrappings.

Y/N stood apart.

Her focus was on Shields. Or rather, what was left of him. His body was wrapped in salvaged cloth, the material rough, inadequate. But it was all she had. She tied the final knot, her fingers lingering for a moment, grounding herself in the task. When she straightened, her shadow stretched long and thin in the fading light.

“Namjoon.” Her voice was steady, though exhaustion clung to its edges. “We need to move before nightfall. While it’s still cool.”

Daku wiped a streak of sweat from his brow, glancing up. “What, you’re heading off too?”

Y/N nodded, jaw tight. “Lee’s leaving you a gun. Just one favor—bury my crew. They didn’t deserve to die here.”

Bindi met her gaze, expression soft but resolute. “We’ll take care of them.”

Then the sound came. Faint at first. A whisper. A reverence.

"Namjoon… Namjoon…"

The wind carried it toward them, weightless yet insistent. The group stilled. One by one, they turned toward the voice, rounding the wreckage to see where it came from.

And then, they saw it.

A blue star.

It flared against the horizon—impossibly bright, too large, too deliberate. It rose slowly, cutting through the burnt reds and oranges of the sunset like a blade. The light spread, stretching long shadows across the cracked land, shifting as if the planet itself had taken a breath.

Bindi exhaled sharply. “My bloody oath.”

“Three suns?” Leo whispered, his voice thin with disbelief.

Daku shook his head, his expression dark. “So much for nightfall.”

“And so much for cocktail hour,” Peter muttered, but the joke died the second it hit the air.

Namjoon stepped forward, bathed in the blue glow. The light painted his face in something almost holy. His voice was calm, steady, carrying the weight of quiet conviction.

“We take this as a sign. A path. A direction from God.”

Before anyone could respond, Lee moved.

He slid down the wreckage, boots kicking up dust as he landed. He straightened, brushing himself off, his rifle still slung across his shoulder. His face was unreadable, his eyes sharp.

“A very good sign,” he said, nodding toward the blue star. “That’s Jungkook’s direction.”

Y/N’s gaze flickered to him, unreadable. “Thought you said you found his restraints over there,” she said, jerking her chin toward the opposite horizon, where the red sun was slipping beneath the cracked earth.

Lee didn’t flinch. “I did.” His voice was even, final. “Which means he’s moving toward sunrise.”

The words settled like a stone in the pit of Y/N’s stomach. Jungkook wasn’t wandering. He wasn’t lost. He had a direction. A purpose. And it was moving closer.

She looked back at the star, its eerie light shifting the landscape into something foreign, something watching. A slow exhale left her lips, her mind sharpening.

“Then we move,” she said, her voice unyielding. “Before he decides to double back.”

No one argued. No one hesitated. Because the truth was simple. They weren’t just running from Jungkook anymore. They were following him.

The horizon shimmered, a mirage of heat and shifting color, an alien dream unraveling in the distance. The landscape stretched out before them like an open wound, raw and unrelenting, bruised in shades of violet and ochre under the double glare of the twin suns. To stare too long was to feel the world slip sideways, the very fabric of reality twisting under the weight of its own unnatural stillness.

They moved in a thin, fragile procession, their figures small against the vastness, nothing more than a line of ghosts fading into the endless heat.

The Chrislams led the way, their voices rising and falling in quiet, hypnotic rhythm. Their steps were deliberate, measured, faith woven into every movement. Incense pots swung gently from their hands, sending tendrils of spiced smoke curling into the air—an offering, a prayer, a plea for something greater than themselves. The scent tangled uneasily with the metallic tang of dust, the dry crackle of a world long since abandoned to silence.

Lee followed at a short distance, shotgun resting easy in his arms, though his grip spoke of exhaustion more than readiness. Sweat streaked through the dust on his face, his makeshift visor—a jagged scrap of plexiglass tied down with wire—biting into his skin. He ignored it. The pain was secondary. His eyes never stopped moving, scanning the horizon with the wary focus of a man who understood that stillness could kill just as surely as motion.

Beside him, Y/N shifted the weight of Peter’s ridiculous war-pick across her back. The ornate handle dug into her shoulder with every step, a mockery of their situation. A relic in a place that demanded survival, not sentiment. She had given up rolling her eyes after the first hour—exhaustion had a way of dulling even irritation.

Peter trailed behind, his face pink from the sun, his every step labored. And yet, he cradled his remaining artifact like a sacred object, a lifeline to something that only made sense to him.

The sky loomed, too vast, too fluid, its colors seeping into one another like ink bleeding through paper. The heat distorted the air, turning the horizon into something unreal, something that moved even when it shouldn’t. It was the kind of quiet that didn’t mean peace.

It meant something was waiting.

Y/N fumbled with the cloth she had tried—and failed—to wrap around her head. Her fingers, slick with sweat, kept losing their grip, the fabric slipping no matter how many times she adjusted it. The suns beat down, relentless, burning through her scalp, through her bones.

Namjoon noticed.

He didn’t speak. Just stepped closer, his movements calm, measured. Before she could protest, his hands brushed against hers, taking the cloth with quiet certainty. He wrapped it with the efficiency of someone who had done this a thousand times, securing each fold, each knot, with practiced ease.

Y/N stiffened. She wasn’t used to small kindnesses.

“It’s too quiet,” she muttered, her voice too loud in the stillness. “You get used to the hum of the ship, the engines… then suddenly, it’s just… nothing.”

Namjoon tied the last knot, adjusting the fabric slightly. “Do you know who Muhammad was?” he asked, his voice low, conversational—like they were discussing something as ordinary as the weather.

She blinked at him. “Some prophet guy?”

His lips twitched. “Some prophet guy.” He stepped back, eyes scanning his work before meeting hers again. “He was a city man, but he had to go to the desert—to the silence—to hear the words of God.”

Y/N squinted against the glare. “So, you were on a pilgrimage? To New Mecca?”

He nodded. “Chrislam teaches that once in every lifetime, there should be a great hajj—a journey. To know God better, yes. But also to know yourself.”

A dry laugh slipped from her lips, brittle as the ground beneath their boots. “Sounds terrifying.”

Namjoon just watched her, waiting.

She exhaled. “I grew up on Helion Five,” she admitted, tugging the cloth slightly, testing its weight. “Not as nice as Prime.”

Something flickered in Namjoon’s expression—recognition, maybe respect. “Least religious of all the Helion planets,” he said. “And the poorest.”

Y/N nodded. “I studied botany on Prime. Spent eight years at the technical institute.”

Namjoon’s face shifted, surprised but pleased. “Then you’ve been to New Mecca.”

“I have.” Her voice softened slightly. “Studied under Dr. Abbas.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head in wonder. “Dr. Abbas was a mentor to my uncle. I met him once, when I was young. Brilliant man.”

Y/N nodded. The memories flickered behind her eyes—the towering spires of New Mecca, the hydro-gardens sprawling across the academy, faith and science woven together in delicate balance. It had been an oasis of learning, a place of possibility.

A place that should have led her somewhere better than this.

But then Helion Five ran out of money, and so did she. Her funding dried up, and she ended up back in the dirt, scraping by, until a flight school opportunity on Aguerra Prime sent her halfway across the galaxy.

She didn’t say that part.

At least NOSA paid well. At least the benefits were better than anything in the Helion System.

Namjoon studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, quietly, he said, “You’re full of surprises.”

Before Y/N could respond, Lee stopped. His entire body locked, every muscle wound tight. His breath sharpened. Then—his voice, low, razor-sharp. “Hold up.”

The words carved through the air, snapping every nerve in Y/N’s body to attention.

Lee lifted his rifle, scanning the horizon. His stance had changed—tight, predatory, every line of his body braced for whatever came next.

A ripple of unease passed through the group.

Y/N stepped forward, pulse quickening. “What is it?”

Lee didn’t answer immediately. He just handed her the scope, his expression grim.

She pressed it to her eye, adjusting to the warped, heat-rippled view. At first, she saw only what she expected—the same endless wasteland, stretching as far as the horizon. The cracked ground, desiccated and lifeless. The swirling dust, shifting restlessly in the dry, scorching wind. The emptiness, vast and absolute.

Then—something.

A cluster of thin, vertical shapes disrupted the monotony of the landscape.

She frowned. Her first instinct labeled them as trees, but the thought was dismissed as quickly as it formed. That was impossible.

She adjusted the focus, scanning for details, but the air above the superheated ground distorted everything. Waves of refracted light bent and twisted the landscape, making the objects shift in and out of coherence. She knew how easily the mind could be deceived under conditions like this—optical illusions born from extreme temperature gradients.

Still, she studied them.

They stood upright, dark against the glare of the horizon, irregular in height and spacing. They weren’t moving. Not even a fraction. No branches trembling in the wind. No leaves fluttering. Just still, rigid silhouettes.

Her jaw tightened.

If they were plant life, they shouldn’t be here. The conditions were too extreme. The heat alone would desiccate any surface vegetation in hours—if not outright kill it. Water, if it existed at all, would be buried deep underground, far from the sun’s reach. Any life here would have adapted to that reality. It would stay hidden, evolving in subterranean networks, safe from radiation and exposure.

But these things stood exposed, unyielding beneath a sky that could boil blood.

She exhaled slowly. If they weren’t trees, then what? Rock formations? But they were too slender, too irregular, lacking the weathered smoothness she’d expect from geological structures shaped by the elements.

Her mind cycled through possibilities.

Dead stalks of something that once lived? Artificial structures? Or just a mirage—some trick of light warping the landscape into false patterns?

She lowered the scope, blinking hard, then looked again with her naked eye. The shapes were still there, but less distinct, as if they faded into the background when not magnified.

That unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

Her fingers tightened around the scope.

"Those aren't trees," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else.

Y/N lowered the scope, pressing her lips into a thin line. The shapes still lingered on the edge of the horizon, indistinct and unreal, but her mind refused to place them in any known category. That alone made her uneasy.

“They aren’t trees,” she repeated, calmer this time. More certain.

Lee scoffed. “And you know that how?”

She turned to him, pulse steady despite the irritation curling in her chest. “Because trees don’t grow in places like this. Not on a planet this hot, this dry. Any plant life would be subterranean—assuming there’s life at all. Whatever those are, they’re not—”

“We’ll check it out.”

Y/N stiffened. “That’s not what I—”

Lee was already moving, waving for the others to prepare. “Not gonna stand here debating with a pilot who thinks she’s a scientist,” he muttered, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

Her fingers curled into a fist at her side. “I have a PhD in botany, actually,” she said flatly. “Which is why I’m telling you—”

“And I have a gun,” Lee cut in, not even looking at her. “So we’re gonna make sure.”

Y/N inhaled sharply through her nose. Of course. Of course, he was like this. She’d had his type figured out in the first ten minutes—loud, condescending, the kind of man who couldn’t stomach the idea of someone else knowing more than he did.

“You could just listen to her,” Namjoon interjected, stepping up beside her. He didn’t raise his voice, but there was an edge to his tone, subtle but firm. “She’s probably right. We don’t know what’s out there, and heading straight toward something unknown isn’t exactly smart.”

Lee exhaled sharply, turning back just enough to give Namjoon an unimpressed look. “Yeah? And what’s your plan, genius? Stand around and argue?”

“I think his plan,” Y/N said coolly, “is to use common sense.”

Lee barked a laugh. “Right. Common sense is what gets people killed. We don’t assume, we confirm.” His gaze flicked back to her, sharp with challenge. “Unless you’re scared?”

Y/N’s expression didn’t change, but inside, something clenched. Not in fear—just exhaustion. She’d dealt with men like this her entire career. She knew exactly how this argument would play out. She could cite a hundred scientific reasons why approaching those things was unnecessary at best, dangerous at worst, and it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference.

Lee wanted to stomp over there just to prove he could.

Fine. Let him.

“Whatever,” she muttered, shoving the scope back into his hands. “Let’s go, then.”

She didn’t miss Namjoon’s concerned glance, but she ignored it. If following Lee into a potential death trap was what it took to get him to shut up, so be it.

At least when this inevitably turned out to be a waste of time, she’d get to say I told you so.

The wrecked ship knifed through the barren skyline, its twisted metal ribs jutting like bones against the backdrop of twin burning suns. The land stretched endlessly in every direction—cracked, lifeless, shimmering under the weight of an unrelenting heat. The ship’s remains had become a monument to survival, a jagged scar on an already brutal world.

Perched atop the wreck, Peter reclined as if he were sunbathing at a luxury resort instead of stranded on a hellscape. His misting umbrella—a ridiculous contraption of indulgence and pure audacity—hissed softly, releasing a cooling vapor laced with alcohol. The mist shimmered in the dry air, enveloping him in a cocoon of decadence, as if the wasteland were merely an inconvenience rather than a death sentence.

Below, Daku appeared, dragging a makeshift sled across the scorched earth. The thing groaned under the weight of scavenged supplies—tarps, cables, tools lashed together with salvaged wiring. Sweat slicked his skin, dust clinging to every exposed inch, the heat pressing down on him like a living thing. He barely spared Peter a glance before barking out a sharp, humorless laugh.

“Comfy up there?”

Peter angled his umbrella, peering down with a lazy grin. “Incredible, really,” he said, voice dripping with mock sincerity. He lifted his polished flask in a casual toast. “Turns out food and water are highly overrated when you have the finer things in life.”

Daku’s scowl deepened, his fingers tightening around the sled’s rope. “Just keep your bloody-fuckin’ eyes peeled,” he muttered, his accent sharpening with irritation. “Don’t need that ratbag sneakin’ up and takin’ a bite out of my bloody-fuckin’ arse.”

He turned and trudged toward the distant hills, the sled dragging behind him with a slow, agonized scrape. Peter smirked, swirling the amber liquid in his flask before pouring a precise splash into a delicate glass—somehow unbroken despite the crash. He lifted it to his lips, savoring the moment like he wasn’t marooned on a planet actively trying to kill him.

Then—the blade. Cold steel against his throat.

Peter’s breath hitched. His body went still, every instinct screaming don’t move. The pressure was light but undeniable, the knife’s edge sharp enough that even the slightest shift could draw blood. The air around him changed, tightened.

Then a voice, soft, almost amused. “He’d probably get you right here.” The blade tilted, just enough to let Peter feel the danger. “Right under the bone,” Leo murmured. “Quick. Clean. You’d never hear him coming.”

Peter’s fingers twitched toward the war-pick resting across his lap, but he didn’t move. He barely breathed. Because Leo wasn’t bluffing.

Peter’s eyes flicked sideways, catching the boy’s gaze. Those too-bright green eyes—steady, unblinking, holding something that didn’t belong in a face so young. The knife didn’t waver in his hand. His grip was sure, practiced, casual in a way that turned Peter’s stomach.

Peter swallowed carefully, feeling the blade shift with the motion. “Aren’t you a little young to be playing assassin?” he asked, voice light, strained. “What’s the story, then? Did you run away from your parents, or did they run away from you?”

A flicker of something dark passed over Leo’s expression—anger? Amusement? It was gone before Peter could name it. The blade stayed where it was.

Then, after a heartbeat too long, Leo stepped back. The knife withdrew with a flick of his wrist, a smooth, deliberate motion. The tension didn’t break—it just stretched, coiled between them, an unspoken thing that settled heavy in the heat. Leo turned and walked away.

Peter let out a slow, measured breath. His hand brushed over the war-pick in his lap—too late, too useless now—but the weight of it felt like reassurance. His fingers trembled slightly as he adjusted the umbrella, tilting it just enough to cast his face back into shade. He exhaled, steadied himself.

Then, forcing his voice back into something closer to normal, he called after him.

“What exactly are you trying to prove, kid?”

Leo didn’t stop. Didn’t turn. The knife in his hand caught the light as he walked, glinting with every step. A warning. A promise.

Peter watched him disappear into the waves of heat, unease settling like a stone in his chest. He lifted the flask, poured another sip of sherry, and swallowed it down. It tasted bitter now.

The edge of the wreckage was quieter than anywhere else, a pocket of solitude carved into the heat and ruin. Leo sat cross-legged in the dust, her back to the others, their voices distant, muffled by the wind that swept across the barren expanse. The shadow of the hull stretched thin, barely offering relief from the twin suns, but she didn’t care.

She just needed to be alone.

The knife rested across her knee, a sliver of light catching on the steel, glinting as if it had something to say. Her hands hovered above it, fingers twitching, uncertain.

Her curls clung to her forehead, damp with sweat, itching at the back of her neck. They’d been a nuisance all day, an unwanted reminder of something she wasn’t anymore. Something she couldn’t be.

The first time she cut her hair, she’d done it with a shard of broken glass in a back alley on Taurus I, shivering, starving, her hands sticky with someone else’s blood. She’d shed her name that night too, left it behind like the curls that littered the filthy street.

Audrey had died there. Leo had crawled out of the wreckage. Now, here she was again.

Her fingers curled around the knife, steadying it despite the faint tremor in her hands. The first cut was clumsy, the blade snagging against a tangle before slicing through. A curl tumbled down, landing against the dust, dark against the pale ground. She exhaled sharply. Then she cut again.

Each slice was an act of erasure. A deliberate, necessary violence.

The curls fell in thick, heavy strands, coiling like dead things at her feet. She didn’t stop, even when sweat stung her eyes, even when her breath came short and fast. She worked until there was nothing left but uneven stubble, rough against her fingertips.

A breeze ghosted across her scalp, cool and startling, and for a moment, she felt untethered. Unmoored.

She stared down at the pile of curls, scattered like broken promises. Pieces of a girl who no longer existed. Pieces of soft hands and warm voices, of braids woven by someone long dead, of a life stolen before she ever had a chance to claim it.

Her throat tightened, but she swallowed hard, shoving the feeling down. Then, with one sharp motion, she ground her boot into the curls, sweeping them away with a harsh kick. The wind took them, lifting them into the air, scattering them across the wasteland.

She watched until they disappeared.

The knife was dull now, the edge dulled by the thick, stubborn strands it had cut through. She ran her thumb along the blade, then slipped it back into its sheath.

Leo stood slowly, brushing dust from her knees, rolling her shoulders back. She could already feel the questions rising in her mind. Did she cut enough? Would it pass? Would they see through her?

No. They wouldn’t. They saw what they expected to see—a wiry, sharp-edged boy, too young to be dangerous, too hard to be soft.

And that’s all they needed to know. She wasn’t going to tell them. Not Daku. Not Peter. Not even Namjoon. It wasn’t about trust. It was about survival.

She knew what happened to girls out here. She’d seen it. Felt it. She knew how softness got twisted, exploited, broken apart piece by piece. Leo wasn’t going to let that happen to her. Not again. Out here, softness wasn’t just a weakness. It was a death sentence.

Her green eyes flicked toward the horizon. The jagged hills stood like teeth in the distance, waiting for them. They would bring more pain. More danger. That was inevitable.

But Leo would meet them head-on. She had no other choice. Squaring her shoulders, she turned back toward the ship. The others would see her return. But they wouldn’t see her. Not really.

To them, she was just another boy. Just another survivor. Another body moving through this relentless, unforgiving world. And that was exactly how she needed it to be. Audrey was gone, scattered like dust on the wind. Leo was all that was left. And there was no space for softness now.

The rise gave way to something wrong.

Y/N had never expected to find trees—hadn’t even humored the idea. This planet was too hot, too dry, too merciless. Nothing should be growing here, least of all something as delicate as surface-dwelling vegetation. If life existed, it would be underground, hidden away from the blistering heat, surviving on whatever moisture remained trapped beneath the surface.

But what lay ahead wasn’t life at all.

It was bones.

They weren’t scattered remains or the weathered fossils of something long forgotten. No, these were enormous, structured, standing like a grotesque forest of the dead. Ribs the size of starships arched toward the sky, their jagged edges worn by time, bleached to a sickly green by lichen clinging stubbornly to their surfaces. They loomed over the wasteland, casting long, skeletal shadows that twisted and bent under the relentless double suns.

The ground beneath them was no better. Littered with shattered fragments, hollowed-out vertebrae, and the occasional half-buried skull, it was as if something had torn through this place—something big, something merciless.

The young pilgrims, Namjoon’s people, had begun to murmur prayers, their voices hushed and wavering.

“Allahu Akbar… Allahu Akbar…”

Their reverence was tinged with unease, their steps hesitant now, their awe tempered by something much colder.

Y/N lingered at the edge of the rise, adjusting the strap of her pack with a quiet exhale. She had no desire to move forward. Whatever happened here, however long ago it had been, it wasn’t natural. This wasn’t a graveyard. A graveyard implied burial, rest, peace. This?

This was a battlefield.

Lee, of course, had no such caution. He stepped up beside her, his shotgun slung low but ready, his face streaked with sweat and dust. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze was sharp, assessing. Always acting like he was in charge. Always acting like he knew best.

"This doesn’t feel right," he muttered.

Y/N barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "No kidding," she murmured, voice dry.

They reached the others just as Namjoon translated a question from one of the younger pilgrims.

“He asks what could have killed so many great things.”

No one answered.

Y/N didn’t think they wanted to know.

They moved deeper, their earlier eagerness replaced by a silent, collective caution. She reached out, running her fingers over one of the towering ribs. The grooves carved into the surface were too precise, too intentional. Not the work of time, nor of nature.

“Killing field,” she murmured, stomach twisting. “Not a graveyard.”

Lee crouched near a pile of smaller bones, picking up a fragment. He turned it over in his hands, brushing away the dust. The surface was smooth, polished by age, but the ends—the ends had been broken.

“Whatever it was,” he said grimly, “it was a long time ago.”

A little ways off, Kai drifted toward one of the massive skulls, its hollow sockets wide and empty, a monument to something long dead. The structure was vast enough to shelter them all, its surface ridged with comb-like formations. Curious, Kai pressed his palm against one of the ridges. The wind shifted, catching within the grooves.

Namjoon, unlike the others, wasn’t entirely lost in the spectacle. His gaze flicked back to Y/N, watching the way her expression remained tight, the way her fingers twitched with irritation.

“You don’t like this,” he observed quietly.

Y/N huffed out a breath. “I don’t like being here at all. This is pointless.” She cast a glance at Lee, who was still inspecting the bones like he was the first person in the universe to ever see a skeleton. “And I don’t like being dragged around by someone who acts like he’s in charge just because he’s loud and armed.”

Namjoon smiled faintly. “That’s just Lee. Cop acting like a cop.”

Y/N snorted. “Yeah, well, I didn’t sign up to be bossed around by some overzealous authority figure with a superiority complex.”

Namjoon chuckled. “Yeah, he’s a dick.” Then, after a beat, “But mostly harmless.”

She side-eyed him. “Mostly.”

He shrugged, the ghost of amusement lingering.

A pause settled between them, quieter, more thoughtful. Y/N glanced at him, debating, then sighed. “Call me Frenchie.”

Namjoon blinked. “What?”

“It’s my call sign,” she explained, shifting her weight. “Got it when I was working on the docks with my uncle, and it stuck around. All my friends and family call me. You might as well, since I actually like you.”

Namjoon’s expression softened, something warm flickering behind his eyes. “Frenchie,” he repeated, testing the name with obvious care. A slow smile curved his lips. “I like it.”

Y/N nodded, satisfied.

Then Namjoon hesitated. “My mom used to call me Joon.” His voice was quieter now, thoughtful. “I haven’t heard it in a long time.”

Y/N looked at him, tilting her head slightly.

“She passed away a few years ago,” he admitted.

Y/N’s chest ached, just a little. She understood that feeling too well. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Namjoon nodded once, accepting, before offering her a small, sad smile. “It’s okay.”

Y/N hesitated, then said, “My parents died when I was little. My aunt and uncle raised me.”

Namjoon’s gaze met hers, understanding passing between them in the space of a heartbeat.

For a moment, they stood there, two people from different worlds, bound by quiet losses and shared irritation for the man currently barking orders at Kai like he had any authority.

Namjoon sighed. “We should probably go stop Lee from doing something stupid.”

Y/N smirked. “Or we could let him and watch what happens.”

Namjoon laughed, shaking his head. “Tempting.”

But they both knew they’d step in. Because Lee might be a pain in the ass, but he was still on their side.

A little ways off, Kai drifted toward one of the massive skulls, its hollow sockets wide and empty, a monument to something long dead. The structure was vast enough to shelter them all, its surface ridged with comb-like formations. Curious, Kai pressed his palm against one of the ridges. The wind shifted, catching within the grooves.

A low, hollow hum resonated through the bones. The sound rippled outward, vibrating through the air, sinking into their chests like a pulse of memory. It was deep, mournful—a ghost’s sigh.

Kai’s face lit up, wonder momentarily eclipsing fear. “I’ve never heard anything like this,” he said, turning toward the others, his voice tinged with awe.

His smile froze. Something moved in the skull’s shadow. A face—pale and grinning—emerged from the dark. Kai stumbled back with a strangled yelp, his hands flying up instinctively. It wasn’t a monster. It was Soobin.

He stepped from the depths of the skull, laughter bright and sharp. “Got you good,” he said, grinning.

The tension cracked—momentarily.

Lee was already moving, instincts pulling him into the cavernous space of the skull. The shadows stretched long inside, pooling in uneven recesses. Bones littered the ground, but not the smooth, time-worn ones outside.

These were fresh. Chipped. Splintered. His shotgun swept low, the muzzle nudging against a shattered fragment. The air inside the skull carried an edge, something faintly electric—like the charge before a storm.

Lee exhaled through his nose, slow. "Nothing," he muttered, but his gut said otherwise.

Outside, the group gathered near the towering ribs, unease thickening as the wind hummed through the combed ridges of the skulls, filling the air with a sound too unnatural to be ignored. The massive remains stood like silent guardians over a forgotten tragedy.

High above, Jungkook watched. He was a shadow within the bone, his body pressed into the dense curves of the cavernous skull. The faint light filtering through the ridges illuminated only fragments of him—a glint of movement, a slow, steady breath. He didn’t stir. Didn’t make a sound.

His gaze flicked over the group below. He had been tracking them for hours. From where he crouched, Y/N was the closest. She leaned against the skull’s base, fingers twisting off the spent oxygen canister at her belt. The hiss of escaping air broke the silence.

Jungkook’s grip tightened around the bone-shiv in his hand. Its jagged edge gleamed faintly, a relic carved from the remains of this place. His muscles coiled. His breath was measured. He waited. The hunt hadn’t begun yet. But soon.

Y/N shifted her weight, pressing her back against the massive skull. The warmth of the bone seeped through her clothes, and for a moment, she let herself close her eyes. Just a second—just long enough to exhale, to let the exhaustion settle beneath her ribs before she pushed forward again.

Above her, in the hollowed-out depths of the skull, Jungkook did not blink. He moved with the silence of something bred for patience, for hunting. The bone-shiv in his hand hovered steady, his fingers curling around the carved handle as he leaned forward, the comb-like ridges of the skull framing his motion.

Her hair, damp with sweat, swayed just within reach. A flick of his wrist. A whisper of steel. The blade caught a single lock, slicing it away with surgical precision. Dark strands drifted into his palm, weightless, a piece of her claimed without her ever knowing. He studied them for a moment—expression unreadable—before tucking them into the folds of his makeshift belt. A keepsake. A marker.

Below him, Y/N shifted, oblivious to how close she had come to the edge of her life. She pushed off from the skull, stretching out her sore muscles before turning. “We’d better keep moving,” she said, her voice even, but tired.

Lee’s arrival had been perfectly timed—though she had no idea how perfectly. He stood a few feet away, flask in hand, smirking beneath the sunburned grime on his face. “Care for a sip?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t alcohol supposed to dehydrate you faster?”

Lee shrugged, tipping the flask toward her. “Probably. But it makes you care a whole lot less.”

She hesitated, then took the flask anyway. The liquid burned a path down her throat, hot and punishing, but she swallowed it without complaint. She handed it back, her gaze drifting toward the horizon. The boneyard stretched behind them, vast and silent, too silent.

“We don’t want to be out here when it gets dark,” she said briskly.

Lee nodded, tucking the flask back into his jacket as they fell into step. The group ahead was just visible now, their silhouettes shrinking against the dying light.

The crunch of bone fragments beneath their boots was the only sound between them. They climbed the rise overlooking the wasteland, and then—Lee froze. He moved fast, stepping onto a rock, rifle raised, the scope pressed tight against his eye. Every muscle in his body went rigid.

Y/N felt the shift instantly. Her fingers brushed the hilt of her knife. “What is it?”

Lee didn’t answer at first. He adjusted the scope, lips pressing into a tight line.

“I thought maybe he’d double back,” he muttered, voice barely audible. “Could be trailing us.”

Y/N’s stomach coiled tight. “And?”

Lee exhaled, lowering the scope. “Nothing.” He shook his head. “Left the flask as bait. No bites.” He climbed down, his boots hitting the earth with a crunch. “Guess he’s smarter than that.”

But Lee was wrong. So, so wrong. Back in the shadows of the skull, the truth was different. The flask, once brimming with scotch, now sat empty. Its contents had been poured out—replaced with a handful of coarse, reddish sand. Carefully. Deliberately.

Jungkook crouched deep in the graveyard of bones, his body a seamless part of the ruin, woven into the wreckage of something ancient. The strands of Y/N’s hair were still tucked securely into his belt, their faint scent rising with the heat.

His chest rose and fell in slow, controlled movements, his fingers adjusting the bone shards strapped across his body like armor. He was a ghost. A specter inside the carcass of a long-dead god. Watching. Waiting. And as the group moved farther away, he smiled.

The spired hills rose like shattered teeth against the sky, jagged and sharp, their edges blurred by the feverish shimmer of heat. The ground cracked beneath the weight of the twin suns, a vast, unrelenting plain stretching between the wreckage and the emptiness beyond.

Beneath the meager shade of a tarp strung between two rusted poles, Daku worked in silence.

Each swing of the pickaxe landed with a dull, defiant thud, the ground resisting him at every turn. This planet didn’t want to give up its dead.

A few yards away, the bodies lay wrapped in scavenged cloth. The makeshift shrouds clung awkwardly, shifting slightly in the breeze, as if reluctant to settle. A corner of one cloth lifted—just enough to reveal the curve of a hand, frozen in stillness—before the wind set it back down, as if even the air knew better than to disturb the dead.

Daku didn’t look at them. He didn’t have to. Their presence pressed against his skin, heavy as the heat, heavy as guilt. He drove the pickaxe into the ground again, his muscles burning, his breath ragged. The wreckage of the ship loomed behind him, twisted metal stark against the sky. It felt farther away than it was, separated by more than just distance.

Movement at the edge of his vision made him pause. Bindi stood in the shadow of the ship, watching. She lifted a hand in a slow, deliberate wave. Daku raised his own in return. A small gesture. Too heavy for what it was. But enough. Then he turned back to the earth.

The ground cracked beneath his next swing, reluctant but yielding. The rhythm of digging gave him something to focus on—something other than the weight pressing at the edges of his mind.

“Daku.”

Bindi’s voice carried across the dead landscape, firm but quiet.

He didn’t stop. “You need something?”

She stepped closer, hands on her hips, her presence solid, steady. “You good out here?”

Daku leaned against the shovel, wiping sweat from his brow. His voice came out rough. Flat. “Depends. How good does digging graves in an oven sound to you?”

Bindi snorted. “You could take a break, you know.”

“They deserve better than that,” Daku muttered. No room for argument.

Bindi didn’t try.

She stood there for a moment, gaze lingering, unreadable. Then she turned and disappeared back into the wreckage, leaving him alone with the dust, the heat, and the dead.

Daku worked until his muscles ached, until his hands blistered, until the trench was deep enough to matter.

Then, finally, he turned to the first body. The cloth fluttered slightly as he crouched beside it. Too light. That was the first thing he noticed. The weight was all wrong, the shape beneath the fabric too empty. His breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t let it settle. Didn’t let himself think.

He lifted the body carefully, arms straining as he carried it to the grave. Lowered it into the earth like it meant something.

A breath. A pause. The world around him held still, as if watching. He swallowed hard, then reached for the shovel.

The first shovelful of dirt hit with a dull thud. Then another. Then another. The sound of finality. The sound of something being buried that would never be dug up again.

When it was done, he stepped back, brushing dust from his palms. It wasn’t much. But it was enough. The sound of footsteps behind him. He didn’t need to turn to know it was Bindi.

“You need help?” she asked.

Daku shook his head. “I’ve got it.”

She didn’t argue. She just stood there with him, both of them framed against the endless, indifferent horizon. The silence between them wasn’t empty. It was everything they couldn’t say. Everything they’d lost. Everything they still had left to lose. Daku exhaled, his gaze fixed on the hills in the distance. The sun was sinking, but the heat never left.

“They’ll rest easier now,” Bindi murmured.

Daku tightened his grip on the shovel. “Let’s hope we can say the same for us.”

The canyon yawned ahead, its ribbed spires stretching toward the twin suns like the remains of some ancient beast, clawing at the sky in its final death throes. Heat shimmered off the cracked earth, turning the horizon into something warped and restless. The silence was thick, not the absence of sound, but the kind that pressed in on all sides, heavy with the unshakable feeling that something was watching.

Y/N adjusted the strap of her pack, fingers brushing absently over the worn hilt of her knife as she scanned the terrain. Every step felt heavier, dragged down not just by exhaustion, but by the weight of the stillness.

Ahead, Yeonjun suddenly crouched, his voice low but urgent.

"Captain… Captain!"

Y/N was at his side in seconds, her brow furrowing as she followed his gaze. Half-buried in the dirt was something small and round, coated in dust and split slightly down the middle. At first, it looked like some alien fruit—leathery, weathered, its exposed core stringy and fibrous.

The Chrislams gathered close, murmuring in soft Saramic, their voices tinged with something fragile—hope.

"Could it be food?" one of them asked. "Something edible?"

Y/N brushed the dirt away, fingers tracing the rough, familiar stitching. The realization sank in like a stone dropping into deep water. She lifted it slowly, turning it over in her palm.

Her voice was flat when she spoke. "It’s a baseball."

The murmurs stopped. The small circle of bodies tensed, shoulders tightening, breath catching. The dirt-smudged ball sat in her palm like an artifact from another world. In a way, it was.

Namjoon stepped closer, the usual calm in his eyes sharpening into something watchful. He scanned the canyon’s winding path, his voice measured but weighted.

“We are not alone here, yes?”

Y/N didn’t answer, but her grip on the ball tightened.

Behind her, Lee shifted, his rifle held easy but ready, the sharp cut of his jaw betraying his unease. His fingers brushed the scope, his movements slow and deliberate.

“Never thought we were,” he muttered, the resignation in his tone carrying something else beneath it. Something like readiness.

The canyon widened, opening into a plateau that led toward the spired hills. And there—standing against the base of the jagged rock formations—was a settlement. Or what was left of one.

Rust-streaked shipping containers, stacked into makeshift buildings, leaned into each other like forgotten bones. Tattered sunshades, barely clinging to their rusted poles, flapped weakly in the heated wind, their edges frayed and curling.

The group stopped.

Namjoon moved first, stepping forward with a reverence that didn’t match the decay before them.

"Assalamu alaikum!" Yeonjun called, his voice carrying across the empty space, bouncing off the metal walls.

Nothing. No answer.

Lee peeled off toward a rusted-out moisture-recovery unit, crouching near the battered jugs scattered at its base. He picked one up, shook it. Nothing. Just a hollow rattle of grit inside brittle plastic.

“They ran out,” he said grimly, setting the jug down with finality.

Namjoon’s gaze lingered on the machine, his voice quiet. “Water,” he murmured. “Once, there was water here.”

The pilgrims sank to their knees, hands raised, their voices rising in unison. Allahu Akbar. The sound filled the empty settlement, a prayer swallowed by the bones of a place long past saving.

Y/N watched from the outskirts, the weight of the baseball still heavy in her grip. The prayers filled the space, but they didn’t fill her. Her gaze drifted to the shipping containers. Too still. Too empty. She moved toward one, her steps careful, deliberate. The doors hung crooked, their rusted hinges straining against time. She pushed one open.

Inside, the remains of lives left behind: A tipped-over chair. A rusted lantern. A faint, smeared handprint on the wall.

Y/N dragged her fingers along the broken edge of a table. Her voice was quiet, more to herself than anyone else.

“What happened here?” Lee’s voice, closer than she expected.

“Doesn’t look like they had much of a choice,” he said, gesturing to the scattered jugs, the rusted-out machinery. “This place dried up.”

Namjoon’s voice broke through the weight of the silence. "We search. See what remains."

The group spread out, their movements slow, careful. The air was thick, heavy with something unspoken. Y/N turned the baseball over in her hands, a cold certainty settling deep in her chest.

The air inside the structure was stale—not just old, but abandoned. A vacuum where life had once existed and then receded, leaving only the sediment of its passing. The particulate composition of the dust—fine, unbothered—told Y/N that no one had been in here for years.

She stepped forward, careful with her weight distribution, feeling the floor shift just slightly under her boots. Disuse. Wood degradation. Subsurface rot. The building wouldn’t collapse under her, but it was tired.

She cataloged details as she moved—mental notes stacking like research entries in her mind. The table in the center of the room: wooden, refectory-style, approximately two meters in length. Surface dull with oxidized grime. Deep scratches. Cup rings. The wood had absorbed more than just liquid over time—it had absorbed history.

The walls bore framed images—early settlers, hands dirt-streaked and competent, smiling children, a boy gripping a baseball bat. Domesticity in an unrelenting world. A psychological anchor. And yet, they were gone. The structures stood, the ghosts remained, but the people who built them—who bent this world to their will—had vanished.

Where?

Y/N moved deeper inside, her fingertips trailing along the tabletop’s edge. Oil deposits in the grain. Sweat, grease—human residue. She withdrew her hand quickly, as if touching the past too much might make it real again.

She reached for the wall, searching by muscle memory for a switch. “Lights,” she muttered, though she already knew—futility.

Her hand skimmed rough plaster—no switches, no panels. Not even the residual tackiness of adhesive where something had been ripped away. No artificial power grid at all.

Her mind started turning. She moved toward a window, the fabric blackout blinds stiff under her fingers. Why blackouts? She yanked them back, expecting the room to flood with sunlight—

A face stared back. Y/N jerked backward, pulse spiking. Her breath hitched before recognition caught up. Lee. Standing just beyond the glass, his features cut sharp by the exterior glare. He grinned, bemused, almost lazy.

"Try not to get lost in there," he said through the window, voice muffled.

She exhaled sharply, tension bleeding from her muscles. A short, nervous laugh escaped her as she nodded. "Not planning to," she called back.

Lee gave a small wave and stepped away, disappearing into the light. She was alone again. But the silence inside the building had shifted. A creak from behind her.

Y/N pivoted, knife half-drawn, instincts running ahead of her thoughts. Something in the corner caught the light. An orrery.

It sat on a low table, its frame dulled with oxidation but intact. She took a slow, deliberate step forward. The gears inside clicked, stuttered, then began to turn.

The device came to life. Tiny planets, caught in orbits dictated by age-old mechanics, began to move. Uneven. Jerky. The largest celestial body, positioned where a primary sun should be, pulsed faintly—bathed in a perpetual glow.

Y/N stilled. No darkness. Her fingers brushed the frame. "No darkness," she murmured. "No lights, because… no darkness." Her scientific mind caught the pattern before her gut did. Something prickled at the base of her skull. A realization forming too slow to stop the chill crawling up her spine. She turned sharply, stepped back into the sunlight.

The porch creaked beneath her boots, the glare of the twin suns almost too much after the dim interior. She squinted, eyes scanning the barren land for movement.

Then—a flicker. Far out, something glinted. Not naturally. A deliberate reflection. Her breath caught. She moved fast, pushing past a line of laundry still clinging to rusted wire, the faded fabric brushing her arms as she pushed forward.

The glint again. She broke into a jog.The ground crunched beneath her boots, fractured stone and sand shifting as she reached the source— A skiff. Partially buried in the desert’s hungry mouth.

Y/N’s pulse pounded. The fabric wings, tattered and skeletal, flapped weakly in the wind. The hull, sleek despite its damage, bore faded markings—symbols etched by a language older than the ruins around it.

A vessel. A departure. Or an arrival. Her fingers traced the surface—metal, pitted and worn, but solid. Heat radiated from it, even in the already blistering environment. Residual energy storage? Possible thermovoltaic components? Her heart stuttered.

"Allahu Akbar," she whispered, voice trembling between awe and calculation.

She didn’t believe in miracles. But she believed in science. And the science told her one thing: Someone else had been here.

The others caught up within minutes, their footsteps crunching against the fractured ground, but Y/N barely registered them. Her mind was already dissecting, calculating, breaking down the skiff in front of her.

Namjoon reached her first, his approach slow, deliberate—a reverence she couldn’t afford. He placed a hand on the hull, fingers splayed over the scarred metal, his eyes slipping shut for a brief moment. A prayer. A plea. The Chrislams behind him murmured their own, their voices threading through the air like a quiet current of faith. Y/N wasn’t praying. She was analyzing.

Her fingers traced the hull, mapping out the pitting from sand erosion, the carbon scoring along the intake vents, the microfractures spiderwebbing across the surface. Heat residue. That meant energy retention. That meant—

"Think it’ll fly?" Lee’s voice broke through her thoughts. He stood just behind her, rifle slung loose, his gaze sweeping over the vessel with a mix of hope and skepticism.

She exhaled sharply, tilting her head, already formulating possibilities, probabilities, limitations. "I don’t know," she admitted, but the words thrilled her. Not in uncertainty, but in possibility.

Her hands moved instinctively, pushing against the skiff’s frame, testing its stability, density, material integrity. The hull composition felt wrong—light but strong, too smooth to be traditional alloys. Not purely terrestrial. Some kind of composite—low-weight, high-tensile resilience.

The intake vents told her more—angled for atmospheric entry, but the heat scoring was shallow. This thing hadn’t been through a rough descent. It hadn’t crashed. It had landed. Her pulse ticked up, the rush of discovery washing over her, every neuron firing at once.

"This isn’t just wreckage," she muttered under her breath. "It was left here."

Lee frowned. "What are you saying?"

She stepped back, surveying the machine as a whole, not just its parts. "Scorch patterns are too controlled for a crash. The way the sand's drifted against it—it's been here a while, but not long enough for total burial. And the material—" she pressed her palm flat against the hull "—it’s still holding latent heat. That means an energy core. That means—"

Lee caught on before she even finished. His breath left him in a short, sharp laugh. "—it might have power," he finished.

Y/N nodded, her mind already racing ahead. If there was power, there was a chance. The skiff wasn’t just a symbol of escape. It was a machine—a problem to solve, a system to understand, a puzzle begging for hands smart enough to unlock it.

For the first time in too long, she felt the familiar pull—not just survival, not just endurance, but science.

"If we can get inside, if the controls are intact, if we can access the core—" she turned to Namjoon, who was still watching her, still measuring her words against his faith.

"We might not be stuck here after all."

The group fell silent. Even the wind seemed to hesitate, as if waiting for the verdict. Y/N’s hands curled into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms, not in doubt but in determination. For the first time in days, she wasn’t just reacting to survival. She was chasing it.

She looked up, toward the endless stretch of sky. For once, it didn’t feel like a ceiling. It felt like a destination.

Perched atop the ruined ship, Peter reclined in the only way Peter could—utterly unbothered, delicately indulgent, as if this wasteland was nothing more than a minor inconvenience to his standard of living. A toast point rested between two fingers, smeared with glistening caviar, because apparently, nothing—not even being marooned on a hostile planet—could persuade him to lower his standards.

The heat wavered in thick, rippling waves, and yet Peter sat immaculate, his linen trousers untouched by dust, grime, or the creeping dread curling at the edges of reality.

He lifted the toast toward his lips, prepared for the luxury of a bite, when— Scrabbling.

Soft. Imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t listening. A faint, almost instinctual sound. Dirt shifting. Small rocks tumbling. The suggestion of movement.

Peter froze. The toast hovered, suspended between indulgence and survival, as he tilted his head toward the edge of the ship. His sharp gaze narrowed. His hand lowered the toast with slow, deliberate precision onto a neatly folded napkin. He adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves, brushed nonexistent dust from his trousers, and peered over the side.

Nothing. Just the dirt ramp, the heat waves, the small rocks still rolling a little too lazily, as if something—or someone—had climbed up. A muscle ticked in Peter’s jaw.

"This," he muttered under his breath, voice edged with his usual dry sarcasm, "now qualifies as the worst fun I’ve ever had. Stop it."

The wasteland offered no reply. The silence was thick, viscous, wrapping around him, pressing against his skin. The heat crackled off the ship’s hull, and suddenly, the toast and caviar felt obscenely misplaced.

Peter grabbed his war-pick—the ornate, polished relic, absurd in his hands, its weight foreign despite its promise of violence. He descended cautiously, every footstep deliberate, scanning the fractured shadows of the hull.

Still—nothing. His pulse was too fast. He did not like this.

“Leo?” Peter’s voice was low, edged with tension. "Oh, Leo… if this is one of your charming pranks—"

A voice rang out.

“What?”

Peter nearly dropped the war-pick. Leo’s voice was too casual, too far away. That meant—whatever had been up there with him, hadn’t been Leo. Cold certainty locked around Peter’s spine.

His tension sharpened into movement, feet carrying him faster now, deeper into the ship’s fractured belly, where he found Leo and Bindi, elbow-deep in a stubborn storage container, dirt streaking their faces. Both looked up, annoyed.

"Tell me that was you," Peter snapped, his grip tightening on the war-pick.

Leo’s brows furrowed. “Okay, sure, it was me. What’d I do now?”

"You’re assailing my fragile sense of security, that’s what,” Peter shot back. His voice cracked—just slightly—betraying his nerves.

Bindi straightened, her sharp gaze zeroing in. “He’s been right here, mate," she said, unimpressed. "What are you going on about?"

Peter opened his mouth, but— A shadow moved. A flicker across the fractured beams of sunlight slicing through the hull. The three of them froze. The air thickened, pressing in on all sides.

“Daku?” Bindi called, voice tight.

No response.

Leo darted to a narrow crack in the hull, pressing his face to the dusty glass. His breath fogged the surface as his gaze locked onto something.

Daku. Outside, hunched over the graves. Moving slow. Deliberate. Leo’s voice dropped to a whisper. His lips barely moved when he spoke the name they had all been avoiding.

"Jungkook."

Peter went rigid. The war-pick slipped in his sweaty grip. Bindi didn’t hesitate—she ripped the weapon from his hands in one clean motion, her body already moving, her muscles tensed like a spring waiting to snap. Leo followed, boomerang gripped like a lifeline.

The shadows deepened. The air grew heavier. And then—he appeared. Bindi swung first. Her aim was perfect—too perfect. The war-pick sliced through the air— and missed.

“No—!" Leo’s voice cracked. Panic ripped through him.

The man staggered back, arms raised defensively. Not Jungkook. Sunburned skin, blistered raw. A gaunt frame, weak, trembling. He clutched the lever of an emergency cryo-locker, his breath ragged, desperate.

"I thought—" he rasped, voice hoarse. Relief bloomed across his face. His eyes darted over them, hopeful, human, just a survivor—

The gunshot tore through the moment. Louder than the wind, louder than the sky. The bullet hit center mass. Blood sprayed across Bindi’s arm. The man’s body jerked, crumpled. His eyes went wide, confusion etched into his sunburned features before the light in them went out. A single breath. Then silence.

The group turned. Daku stood yards away, pistol still raised. His hands trembled. His chest rose and fell too fast.

"I thought it was him," Daku stammered. His voice cracked, unraveling. "The murdering ratbag. I thought—"

Leo’s face was ashen. His throat bobbed as he whispered, "He was just somebody else."

Daku’s gaze dropped. His hands fell limp at his sides. The pistol slipped from his fingers, clattering against the dirt. His knees buckled. His voice—wrecked, broken, crumbling.

“I thought it was him.”

And in the shadows behind the graves Jungkook watched. Still. Calculating. Amused. The goggles over his eyes caught the light, glinting. For a breath, he lingered, his gaze flicking to the breather strapped to Daku’s chest. Assessing. Weighing. Measuring. Then—like smoke he was gone. Leaving behind nothing. Just the echo of his presence and the weight of a mistake they could never take back.

The skiff crouched on the cracked earth like a carcass picked clean by time. Its fabric wings, once sleek and functional, hung in limp surrender, their edges frayed by wind and heat. The sand had already started reclaiming it, creeping up the landing gear, seeping into every exposed seam. Whatever this ship had been, whatever mission had left it here, was long over.

But it still had answers.

Y/N dropped from the cockpit, her boots crunching against the gritty surface below. She straightened, brushing sand off her hands, her mind already unraveling the mystery beneath the wreckage.

“No juice,” she called over her shoulder. Dead cells, fried circuits, a nest of corroded wiring—this thing hadn’t powered on in years.

Lee stood a few yards away, rifle slung over one shoulder in that lazy-but-ready way of his. He was watching her work, but also watching everything else.

“Controls are fried,” she continued, fingers running over the sun-bleached hull, searching. “Wiring’s a mess, but maybe we could adapt—”

“Shut up.”

Lee’s voice was sharp, cutting through her sentence like a blade. His hand came up, commanding silence. Y/N froze. Not because he had spoken—Lee was an ass, and abrupt orders weren’t new—but because of how he had said it.

His entire posture had shifted. The lazy stance was gone. His body was tight, coiled, head tilted slightly—like a wolf catching the scent of something just out of sight. Predator mode. Y/N’s stomach knotted.

“What?” she asked, voice low.

Lee didn’t answer immediately. His eyes swept the horizon, scanning the jagged rock formations, the dunes shifting lazily under the heat. The air around them felt wrong. Too still. Too heavy. Like the world itself had paused, waiting for something to happen. Y/N’s fingers drifted toward her knife, her pulse accelerating.

“Like my pistola,” Lee muttered.

Y/N frowned. He was hearing gunfire?

No—not gunfire. Something else. Before she could ask, the silence fractured. A sound—soft, metallic, deliberate. Like a latch being tested. Like steel on steel. Like someone was inside the skiff. Y/N’s grip tightened. She glanced at Lee. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. He heard it too.

“From the ship?” she whispered.

“Maybe.” His voice was clipped, low. “Or it could be him.”

Jungkook. The name didn’t need to be spoken aloud—his presence was a constant shadow, thick and inescapable. Even when he wasn’t there, he was. A shiver traced down Y/N’s spine, but she swallowed it. Fear wouldn’t help. Answers would. Her focus snapped back to the skiff.

If she could find a serial number, a registry plate, even a manufacturer’s mark, she could start piecing this together. Where had it come from? Who left it here? And more importantly—what planet were they even on? She ran her hands over the hull, searching.

The paint was stripped, the weathering extreme, but beneath the peeling surface, she spotted a faint etching—small, almost invisible, tucked just beneath the intake vent.

Her pulse spiked. Identification markings. Y/N dropped to her knees, yanking out her multi-tool. The tip of the blade scraped carefully over the surface, clearing away grit and oxidation. There. Her brain moved fast.

“PT-221…” she whispered, deciphering the numbers as they appeared. A familiar format.

“This is a personnel transport skiff.”

Lee glanced toward her, but his focus was still half-outward, scanning the horizon. “That mean anything?”

Y/N exhaled hard, her mind racing.

“PT-series ships were manufactured in the Helion System. Specifically” —she brushed away more dirt—“On Prime. However, this one looks weird. An older model from Aguerra Prime or Earth. I'd sixty years, but there's a lot of copycat rebuilds out there. Depending on where we are, it's unlikely that anyone would leave a ship for sixty years with no plan of retrieving it.”

That meant something huge. If this skiff had been manufactured in the Helion System or any of the others that she mentioned, then it had originated from human-inhabited space. That meant they were somewhere mapped. Somewhere reachable. Which meant—they weren’t lost. Not completely.

“This is good, Lee,” she said, voice breathless with revelation. “If I can get into the onboard system—if the black box is still intact—we might be able to pull location logs. Nav data. Even a distress signal history.”

Lee wasn’t looking at her. His grip had shifted on his rifle, tighter. His jaw clenched. Y/N’s excitement fractured.

“Lee,” She barely whispered it.

He didn’t blink. His face was off. For a second, Y/N thought it was just the heat. The pale sheen on his forehead, the way his fingers flexed against the grip of his rifle—subtle signs of dehydration, maybe, or just the endless tension grinding them all down to bone. But then she really looked.

His breathing was wrong. Not labored, exactly, but uneven, like his body was reacting to something before his brain could catch up. His pupils looked a little blown, his skin too clammy for the dry heat pressing down on them. He was sweating, but not the normal kind. A slow, cold kind. Like someone had just ripped a secret out of his chest.

"Lee." Y/N’s voice dropped an octave, sharp with something she wasn’t sure she wanted to name. "What’s wrong?"

No answer. His jaw flexed. His fingers twitched, just once, against the trigger guard. Y/N’s stomach twisted. She barely had time to register it—to react, to decide if she should be worried or just pissed off—before Lee suddenly exhaled hard, shook himself like a man breaking out of a fog.

Then, just like that, his entire expression changed. The tension? Gone. The weird, distant look? Gone. He rolled his shoulders, blinked twice like shaking off a bad dream, then turned toward her with forced nonchalance.

“Sorry—what?” His voice was too normal, too casual, like he hadn’t just short-circuited mid-thought. “Say that again?”

Y/N stared at him. His breath was steadier now. His hand had relaxed on the rifle, no longer clenching like he was waiting for something to spring out of the dark.

But his skin still looked a little too pale under the sunburn. His lips pressed together too tightly. Like he knew she had clocked it. Like he was daring her to push the issue. Y/N narrowed her eyes but didn’t push. Not yet.

Instead, she rolled her eyes and turned back to the skiff. "Nothing important, Lee. Just, you know, information that might actually save our lives."

She dropped to her knees again, blade scraping against the etchings on the hull, scanning for anything else. Serial numbers, flight logs—hell, even a maintenance sticker would help. Something to tell her where the hell this thing had come from. Because if she could figure that out, then maybe she could figure out where the hell they were.

The grave site shimmered under the twin suns, the heat so thick it seemed to press against Daku’s chest with every breath. The ground cracked beneath his boots as he dragged the dead man’s body across the dirt, the sled groaning under the weight.

The sound was grating, a harsh scrape against the silence, but the world swallowed it whole. Daku was alone.

The shipwreck loomed behind him, just out of sight, the sun-tarp sagging under the oppressive weight of dead air. The shade did nothing. It just made the place feel more hollow.

He braced himself, hands on his knees, and tried to ignore the way his lungs felt like sandpaper. Sweat burned down his back, soaking into the fabric of his shirt, but he didn’t stop.

The grave wasn’t deep. Couldn’t be. The ground was fighting him, resisting every strike of the shovel like it didn’t want to give up its dead.

Then he saw it. Something in the dirt. Daku froze. Half-buried at the bottom of the shallow grave, nestled beneath the loose soil, was an opening. Not just a crack in the earth. Not a burrow. Something else. Too smooth. Too deliberate.

He knelt, breath hitching, his fingers brushing over the edges of the hole. The walls were lined with something fibrous, a texture that wasn’t quite plant, wasn’t quite animal. Dried husks, webbed together in intricate layers. Organic, but wrong.

His stomach twisted. He reached for the handlight clipped to his belt, flicking it on. The beam cut through the dark, illuminating the tunnel’s slope.

The walls reflected faintly. Not like rock, not like dirt—something else. Something that almost looked wet. Then the smell hit him. Acrid. Chemical. Like something had been burned too clean, stripped too sterile.

Daku tilted the light. The tunnel curved downward, disappearing into a place the light couldn’t reach. And then—it moved. Not the tunnel. Something inside it. A ripple. Small at first. Then again. Daku’s heart slammed against his ribs. At first, it looked like shadow, just the way the light played against the uneven walls.

But then he realized it wasn’t the light moving It was something in the dark. Something that was watching him. Then it lunged.

The edges of the burrow split apart with a wet, tearing sound. Like flesh peeling open. A tendril shot out, fast—too fast. It wrapped around Daku’s wrist, cold, slick, unnervingly strong. Panic detonated through him.

He yanked back instinctively, but the thing was stronger. Its grip tightened, pulling him toward the tunnel. Daku screamed. His free hand fumbled for his pistol, but his fingers couldn’t get a grip. The thing’s skin—if you could call it that—was slick, shifting, like oil trying to hold a shape.

Finally, his hand closed around the gun. He fired. The shot shattered the silence. The muzzle flash lit up the hole for a split second, and in that moment, Daku saw it.

Not just a tendril. Not just something reaching. A mass. It was writhing, growing, expanding from the darkness. Daku fired again, his pulse a drumbeat in his skull. The tendril spasmed, rippling like disturbed water. The grip loosened.

Back at the ship, Peter flinched so hard the toast point in his hand toppled, caviar-first, onto the dusty hull. He stared at it. Then at the horizon. Then back at the toast. Then back at the horizon. His mind scrambled for an answer that didn’t exist.

Leo’s head snapped up, boomerang held tight, his knuckles bloodless against the grip.

“That was a gunshot,” he whispered. Like they needed the reminder.

Bindi didn’t hesitate. She dropped into a crouch, war-pick in hand, her eyes locked onto the grave site. Something had happened. Something bad.

Peter scrambled down the side of the ship, his usual swagger gone.

“Tell me that wasn’t just me,” he said, voice pitched too high. “You heard it, right? I’m not going mad?”

Bindi didn’t even look at him. Her focus was all horizon, all muscle, her expression unreadable.

“Course I bloody heard it.” Her voice was clipped, sharp. “The question is, what are we gonna do about it?”

Leo swallowed hard. “That was Daku, wasn’t it?” His voice cracked. “It has to be him.”

Bindi’s head snapped toward him. “Don’t assume.” Her voice was hard, commanding, no room for argument. She rose from her crouch, grip shifting on the war-pick. “Could be anything,” she said. “Or anyone.” A beat. “We stay sharp.”

Leo’s green eyes flickered with something raw. His grip tightened.

“If it wasn’t him…” His voice was barely audible now. “…Then what?”

Peter opened his mouth, ready to quip, ready to deflect—but the look in Bindi’s eyes stopped him cold. She wasn’t joking. This was real.

He shifted uncomfortably, licking his lips, eyes darting toward the ship. “I’m just saying… maybe we think before running headlong into—” He gestured vaguely. “Whatever that was.”

Bindi cut him off.

“Stay here.” Leo flinched, but Bindi didn’t soften. “If anything moves that isn’t me or Daku,” she said, “you scream like the world’s ending.”

Peter opened his mouth again, but she was already moving, slipping toward the gravesite, war-pick held ready. Leo and Peter watched her go. The heat rippled around her, warping the horizon into something unreal.

Leo exhaled sharply, crouching beside Peter, boomerang in a death grip. “…Do you think it’s him?”

Peter didn’t answer. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. His gaze was locked on the grave site. Because something was wrong. He could feel it. Finally, he swallowed, dragging a hand down his face.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. He glanced toward the horizon, his brow furrowing. “But whatever it is…” His voice dropped. “…It’s close. Too close.”

The second gunshot shattered the graveyard’s silence, the sharp crack tearing through the thick, suffocating heat. The bullet found its mark.

A tendril snapped apart in midair, black ichor spraying outward in a violent arc, sizzling where it struck the dry earth. The air reeked instantly—something acidic, chemical, a stench that clung to the back of Daku’s throat, making his eyes water.

But the thing didn’t stop. The next tendril lashed out, wrapping around his calf before he could react. Then it pulled.

Daku hit the ground hard, his back slamming against the dirt with a dull thud. His breath ripped from his lungs, the wind knocked out of him as he slid toward the gaping burrow.

The thing wasn’t just strong. It was fast. He aimed blind—fired blind, his pistol flashing bright in the gloom. The muzzle flare lit up the nightmare for half a second.

A tangle of limbs. Writhing. Folding in on itself. Not solid. Not liquid. Something in between. The bullets tore through it, but it didn’t bleed right. It shuddered—jerked, rippled like disturbed water—but the tendrils kept coming.

One sliced across his chest, razor-thin but unforgiving, carving deep into his skin. Daku gritted his teeth against the pain, his vision blurring at the edges. His free hand scrambled for purchase, fingers clawing at the dirt, but the earth beneath him was giving way.

The grave was getting deeper. Or maybe he was just getting pulled in. His boots dug into the edge, small rocks tumbling down into the void below. Daku kept shooting, kept fighting, even as his grip weakened.

Another shot. Then—something different. One bullet hit deep. Not just flesh. Something inside it. The thing jerked back for a split second, a violent convulsion rolling through its mass.

Daku felt a spark of hope. But hope never lasted long on this planet. The creature lurched forward with renewed fury, its remaining tendrils snapping around his arms, his waist, his throat.

Everything constricted at once. His lungs spasmed. His vision narrowed. The last scream he tried to release died before it even left his throat.

His gun slipped from his fingers, tumbling into the abyss. Daku was going under. The ground crumbled beneath him. His boots skidded, slipped- Then he was gone. Yanked down. Swallowed whole.

The grave collapsed inward. The dirt settled. The sled sat untouched, its cargo neatly stacked, as if nothing had happened at all.

Overhead, the twin suns burned on. Their heat didn’t care. Their light reached everywhere. Except down there.

Deep in the burrow’s black throat, something shifted. The sound was wet, sickly, like flesh being pulled apart and put back together again. The darkness pressed down, thick and suffocating, as something dragged itself deeper. The creature retreated, its tendrils folding inward, pulling Daku’s motionless body into the abyss.

Deeper. Deeper. The light from the surface faded to nothing. The planet consumed him whole. And the silence that followed was final.

The ground burned through Bindi’s boots, the heat relentless, but she didn’t feel it. She sprinted across the packed, unforgiving earth, her breath tearing from her throat in ragged gasps. The twin suns bore down, their light merciless, the air thick and smothering, clinging to her skin like a second, unwelcome layer.

The makeshift sun-tarp came into view, its edges flapping against the crooked poles, the sound barely a whisper over the thunder in her chest.

She felt it before she saw it. Something was wrong. Bindi skidded to a halt, kicking up a cloud of dust. The world tilted slightly, her stomach dropping as she yanked the fabric aside—

And froze. Jungkook was standing there. Still. Silent. Waiting.

He was on the far side of the grave, body eerily relaxed, one hand hanging loosely at his side. In it, a bone-shiv. The blade gleamed faintly, catching the light in a way that shouldn’t have felt threatening—but did.

He didn’t flinch at her arrival. Didn’t step back. Didn’t speak. Just stood there, the slight tilt of his head the only indication that he even acknowledged her presence.

His goggles hid his eyes, but Bindi felt them—felt the weight of his stare like a blade against her ribs. Her gaze dropped and her lungs locked. The grave was empty.

The sled overturned, its contents scattered across the dirt like the remnants of a struggle. Blood smeared the earth, thick, dark, soaking into the fractured ground.

And at the bottom of the pit, something worse. A hole. No—a burrow.

Its edges weren’t normal, weren’t clean or mechanical or natural. The fibrous lining trembled, quivering like raw nerve endings, as if the planet itself had breathed a wound open.

Bindi’s body went cold, even as sweat stung her eyes.

She saw it then- Daku’s boot. Just the boot. Lying a few inches from the grave’s edge. Torn. Scuffed. One lace half-untied, like he’d been dragged right out of it.

Her scream tore through the air. "Daku!" Her voice broke, raw, desperate. "DAKU!" The grave swallowed the sound.

Jungkook still hadn’t moved. The silence around him was louder than her cries, pressing down like a living thing.

Bindi’s hand tightened around the war-pick, both hands now clutching it as though it could anchor her, keep her from falling into the same void. Her chest heaved, her throat aching from the scream, but her rage cut through the fear like a blade through flesh.

Her voice shook, but her fury didn’t. "What did you do?"

Jungkook tilted his head, lips barely twitching. A smirk. Or maybe not. Maybe just a reflex, something almost human, but Bindi knew better. He didn’t answer. Didn’t even acknowledge the accusation.

Her gaze snapped back to the grave—the blood, the torn earth, the quivering maw of the burrow. Something else had been here. Something alive. Something that wasn’t Jungkook.

Her breath hitched, the pieces snapping together in her mind with the speed of pure, visceral instinct. "What is down there?"

It wasn’t a question for him—it was a question for herself. Jungkook finally spoke, his voice low, measured, almost curious.

"Not me."

The words crawled under her skin. Her legs weakened. The hole at the bottom of the grave pulsed faintly. Bindi felt it. Like it was waiting.

Jungkook flicked his head toward the burrow—a gesture so small, so deliberate, it made her stomach lurch. He wasn’t explaining himself. He was telling her to look. Telling her to understand.

Her fingers tightened around the war-pick’s handle. And then—she broke. Her scream ripped from her throat, raw and violent.

"Liar!"

The word shook the air. Jungkook didn’t flinch. Didn’t argue. Didn’t deny it. He just turned. His body moved fluidly, like an animal slipping back into the shadows, a creature untouched by morality, by fear, by regret. And he walked away.

Bindi stood there, breathing hard, hands shaking, staring at the grave like it might come alive beneath her feet. It already had. And whatever had taken Daku was still there.

Waiting. Watching. Hungry. Her chest heaved, her grip white-knuckled on the war-pick. The silence returned, heavier now, an oppressive weight of knowing. And she thought, for the first time, that maybe the real question wasn’t what happened to Daku. Maybe the real question was— How much time did they have left before it came back for them too?

Jungkook ran.

His body moved like liquid through rock, weaving through the towering spires that clawed at the sky like the fossilized ribs of some ancient, long-dead colossus. The terrain twisted violently, sharp-edged canyons and jagged drops designed to kill the unskilled, but Jungkook flowed through them without hesitation. Every step was measured, every movement deliberate, his muscles adjusting instinctively to the unpredictable ground beneath him.

The planet breathed heat and silence, thick and watchful, as if the land itself was waiting for the inevitable collision between predator and prey.

The boots behind him never stopped. Lee was close. His footsteps were methodical, unhurried despite the speed, a hunter keeping his quarry exactly where he wanted it. Then—

CRACK.

A gunshot split the air, shattering the fragile quiet. Jungkook felt it before he registered the pain—a sharp, white-hot kiss slicing across his shoulder. The impact sent him off balance, his body crashing into the ground in a violent sprawl.

Dust exploded around him, thick and blinding. He tumbled, skidding hard, his skin tearing against the brutal terrain. His lungs seized, inhaling grit as his momentum carried him forward—too fast, too out of control—until his body came to a bone-rattling stop.

Jungkook braced, muscles tensed to spring back up, keep moving, keep running— He never got the chance.

A boot slammed onto the back of his neck. Hard. Hard enough to rattle his teeth. The force drove him down, his face pressing into the burning dirt, the rough grit scraping against his cheek. His fingers twitched, instinct clawing at his spine, screaming at him to fight, fight, fight, but the weight was unrelenting.

Lee. Jungkook didn’t need to look. Didn’t need to see the satisfied smirk he knew was on the bastard’s face. Didn’t need to hear his smug, infuriating drawl to know exactly what was coming next.

“Same crap, different planet, huh?”

Jungkook’s breath came shallow and steady, his muscles coiled like a trap waiting to spring. The heat of the twin suns pressed against his exposed skin, but it wasn’t what burned.

Lee leaned in, his boot grinding just a little harder against Jungkook’s spine. “You’re fast. I’ll give you that.” A casual chuckle, like they were discussing the weather and not locked in a decades-long, vicious game of hunt-or-be-hunted. “But you should’ve figured it out by now—” He bent closer, his breath warm against the back of Jungkook’s neck. “You can’t outrun me.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his breath still even, controlled. Lee wasn’t invincible. No one was.

Lee shifted slightly, his shotgun gleaming in the sunlight, still pointed directly at Jungkook’s skull. “I’ll admit,” he continued, his voice dropping to something almost amused, “for a second there, you almost had me. Thought you might actually make it.” A pause. A beat of silence, stretching taut. “But here we are.” Lee sighed dramatically, pressing just a little more weight into his hold. “Same story, different setting.”

Jungkook’s fingers twitched against the dirt. His mind moved faster than his body, calculating every shift in weight, every possible angle to escape. Lee was underestimating him. Not enough to be careless—not yet—but enough to assume this was over.

Jungkook tested the pressure against his neck, shifting just slightly. Lee noticed. The boot pressed down. Hard.

“Don’t,” Lee warned, voice dropping into a growl.

Jungkook exhaled slowly, forcing his body to still, to wait, to let Lee think he’d won. His lips twitched. A fraction of a smile. Lee’s grip on the gun tightened, the movement subtle—a hunter sensing the shift in the air, the moment before a predator strikes.

He leaned down, close enough that Jungkook could feel the smirk in his voice. “Go on,” he whispered. His breath was warm. His tone was taunting. “Try something. I dare you.”

Jungkook’s body went still. Too still. The silence stretched unnatural and tight, buzzing with something unspoken, unreadable. Lee frowned slightly. Jungkook smiled.

By the time Y/N and the Chrislams stumbled back into the settlement, the twin suns hung low and merciless, stretching shadows across the cracked earth like skeletal fingers reaching for something they could never quite grasp.

And then she saw him. Jungkook. Sprawled in the dirt. His wrists shackled, his body wrecked.

One lens of his goggles was shattered, exposing the swollen ruin of his right eye, a bruise blooming deep and dark beneath the glass. Blood caked his face, dried in jagged streaks along his jaw, pooling at the corner of his split lip. His chest rose and fell in slow, controlled breaths—the kind that meant he was keeping himself from making a sound, from showing weakness.

The dirt beneath him was stained with sweat and blood, mixing into the dust like he was being absorbed into the planet itself. And standing over him, fists still trembling, was Lee.

His knuckles were raw, his breathing sharp, his entire body locked tight like a spring stretched too far, too long. He wasn’t gloating. He wasn’t even speaking. Just watching. Waiting. Y/N felt the violence in the air before she heard it.

Lee’s voice came low and razor-sharp. "I don’t play that." His fists clenched again, his jaw tightening like he was holding himself together through sheer force of will. "I don’t play that, so just try again." His breath was heavy, sharp, every word weighted with rage barely kept in check. “C’mon, Jungkook. Tell me a better lie.”

Y/N moved without thinking. She grabbed Lee’s arm, yanking him back hard. "Ease up!" she snapped, her voice slicing through the oppressive silence. The moment her hand connected, she felt how hot he was—burning with anger, with exertion. His pulse hammered beneath his skin, barely contained.

Lee didn’t turn to her. Didn’t move. And then—Bindi screamed. It was raw, guttural, the kind of sound that didn’t just come from the throat—it came from the bones, from the marrow, from something breaking inside.

She lunged.

Her fist hit Jungkook’s jaw so hard his head snapped sideways, blood spattering from his already-battered lip. His body didn’t even flinch, like he had already been beaten past the point of feeling it. Y/N reacted instantly, throwing herself between them, shoving Bindi back with both hands.

“Bindi! Stop!” she shouted, struggling to hold her back.

Bindi fought against her grip, her whole body shaking, tears streaking clean paths through the dirt on her face.

"You bloody sick animal!" she screamed, her voice splintering. "What’dja do with my Daku?"

Jungkook didn’t answer. Didn’t even lift his head. His expression was eerily blank, his face tilted just enough that one shattered lens reflected the fading light like a dying star. Y/N’s heart slammed against her ribs.

She turned to Lee, eyes blazing. “Where’s Daku?” she demanded. “What the hell happened out here?”

Lee finally looked at her. His expression was unreadable—too tight, too locked down. His fists unclenched slowly, like it was taking all his effort not to hit something else. With a sharp nod, he gestured toward Jungkook.

“Ask him.”

Y/N dropped to a crouch beside Jungkook, her voice shifting—softer, but no less urgent.

“Jungkook,” she said, staring at the wreck of his face, at the mess of blood and sweat and silence. “What happened to Daku?”

For a moment, he didn’t move. His chest rose and fell, slow and even, like he was holding on to the only thing he could still control. Then, finally—he lifted his head. His cracked lips parted. But all that came out was a rasping sound. Low. Broken. Like the faint whisper of someone who had screamed themselves hoarse.

His eyes flicked to the horizon. To the jagged spires looming in the distance. Then back to her. His lips moved again. A single word, barely audible.

"Gone."

The world tilted. Bindi let out a choked sob, her legs buckling as she sank to the dirt. Lee’s jaw locked, his knuckles going white as his fingers tightened on the stock of his rifle. Y/N’s stomach plummeted. The weight of Jungkook’s answer pressed down on all of them, thick as smoke, suffocating.

She swallowed hard. Forced the words out. "Gone where? What do you mean gone?"

But Jungkook didn’t answer. His head tipped forward, his chin resting against his chest, his entire body folding in on itself like the fight had finally bled out. Like there was nothing left. Like he had already decided—whatever happened next wasn’t up to him anymore.

Y/N and Lee stood at the edge of the grave, their shadows stretching long over the ruined earth. The silence between them was thick, suffocating, the kind that only came after something had gone horribly, irreversibly wrong.

The scene was a crime scene without a body, a massacre without a corpse. Blood streaked the dirt in wild, erratic patterns, like the desperate brushstrokes of a painter losing control. The grave itself was a wreck, its edges collapsed inward, as if the ground had been alive when it happened, twisting, convulsing, devouring.

Nearby, Daku’s sled lay overturned, its contents scattered across the dirt—a mess of supplies, tangled cables, a crushed water jug. A single boot, scuffed and worn, sat half-buried in the dust, the laces flapping lazily in the wind. But Daku was gone.

Not a body. Not a single trace of him. Just this. This wreckage of struggle and silence. At the bottom of the grave, the hole yawned open, its edges lined with something fibrous and strange, something that looked almost… organic. It pulsed faintly in the breeze, like the twitch of a dying thing.

Y/N swallowed hard. It didn’t look natural. Nothing about this looked natural.

Beside her, Lee crouched, his sharp eyes scanning the ground like he was reading a language only he understood. In his hands, the bone-shiv gleamed, its smooth, curved edge catching the last slivers of dying sunlight. He turned it slowly, letting the light skim its surface, watching how it reflected in sharp, fleeting flashes.

Y/N’s stomach twisted. “He used that?” she asked, her voice low but tight. She didn’t know what answer she wanted.

Lee didn’t look up. Just kept turning the shiv over, like it was some kind of sacred artifact. “Sir Shiv-a-Lot,” he muttered, dry and detached. “He likes to cut.”

The words settled like poison in her gut.

“So why isn’t it bloody?” she pressed, her voice sharper now, her eyes flicking between the blade and Lee’s unreadable face. “If Jungkook did this—if he killed Daku—then where’s the blood?”

Finally, Lee looked at her. A faint smirk tugged at his mouth, but there was no humor in it—just something cold and bitter, something dark sitting behind his eyes.

“Maybe he licked it clean.”

The joke hit like a slap. Unwanted. Cruel. Y/N recoiled slightly, shaking her head as if trying to dislodge the thought. She turned away from the grave, her arms crossing tightly over her chest, her breath uneven. The wind picked up, whipping dust around them, as if the planet itself was shifting, restless.

“This doesn’t make sense,” she muttered, her voice nearly swallowed by the wind. “None of this does.”

Lee stood, brushing the dirt from his hands, slipping the shiv into his belt. He glanced down at the grave one last time, his expression unreadable, his eyes dark.

“It’s not supposed to make sense,” he said, his tone flat, emotionless. He turned to her, his silhouette washed out against the light. “It’s just supposed to scare the hell out of you.”

The cabin felt too small. Too damn small. The walls creaked, thick with heat and the weight of unspoken things. The air reeked of sweat, blood, and the faint, metallic tang of rusted iron—or maybe that was just him.

Jungkook was slumped against the wall, his shackled hands resting lazily in his lap. His dark hair was damp with sweat, half-hiding the wreck of his face. One lens of his goggles was shattered, exposing a swollen eye already blooming in shades of deep purple and red. Blood stained the cut of his jaw, a slow, sluggish trickle from his split lip. He looked like hell.

But he looked at her. And that was what made Y/N hesitate for half a breath too long. She stormed in, boots hitting the floor hard enough to rattle the metal beneath them. She was pissed. But more than that—she wanted answers.

“Where is he?” she demanded, her voice cutting through the thick, suffocating air.

Jungkook didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. His chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths, but his stillness was a lie. The tension was there, coiled beneath the surface like a blade waiting to strike.

“I’m serious,” she pressed, stepping closer, her fists clenching. “You told them you heard something right before it happened. What was it?” Her jaw tightened. “Talk, or I’ll let Lee finish what he started.”

Something dark flickered across Jungkook’s face—a twitch of amusement, a shadow of something cruel. And then, in a voice roughened by exhaustion and something else, something deeper, he rasped,

“You mean the whispers?”

Y/N frowned. “What whispers?”

Jungkook’s busted lip curled into something feral. Dangerous. Amused.

“The ones that tell you where to cut,” he murmured. His voice was so casual it made her skin crawl. “Left of the spine. Fourth lumbar down. That’s the sweet spot.” He smiled, slow and lazy, like a man reciting a bedtime story. “Gusher. Every time.”

Her stomach twisted, but she didn’t look away. Didn’t let him see that he’d rattled her. Because that’s what he wanted.

“Stop it,” she snapped. “Just stop.”

Jungkook didn’t. He leaned his head back against the wall, eyes half-lidded like this was all one big joke. “Metallic taste, you know.” His voice was silk stretched thin over barbed wire. “Human blood. Coppery. But add a little peppermint schnapps…” He dragged his tongue over his split lip, smirking when her expression didn’t change. “Almost palatable.”

Y/N clenched her teeth. She could feel the heat radiating off him, could smell the sweat and iron on his skin. He was playing with her. She wasn’t in the mood.

“Why don’t we skip the theatrics and try the truth?” she said coldly.

For a moment, Jungkook just watched her. His smirk softened—not gone, but different now. Something quieter. Something that almost looked like… regret.

“You’re all so scared of me,” he said softly. “Most days, I’d call that a compliment.” His voice was low, nearly lost to the hum of the ship. “But today…” His jaw ticked, his fingers flexing against the cuffs around his wrists. “Today, I’m not the monster you need to be worried about.”

Something in her chest pulled tight.

She took a step closer. “Take off the goggles.”

Jungkook went still. “No.”

Y/N didn’t wait for permission. She reached out and yanked them from his face, snapping the broken strap with a sharp crack. The goggles hit the floor.

Jungkook flinched, like she’d stripped away something vital. Then his eyes opened. Y/N froze.

His pupils were wide, swallowing the dim light. But it was the color that stopped her breath. A ring of shifting hues, flickering between deep emerald and burning amethyst, like oil-slicked glass catching fire. It was mesmerizing. Unnatural. Beautiful.

Her voice came out lower than she expected. “You did this to yourself?”

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh. “Slam doctor.” He tilted his head. “That’s what we called him.”

Y/N nodded. “I’ve heard about it. Never seen it.”

“Lucky you.”

His lips curled, but the smirk didn’t reach those strange, hypnotic eyes. “You’re locked in max-slam. Barely any light. Your eyes feel like they’re burning out of your skull.” He flicked a glance toward the slats of light bleeding through the metal walls. “Some back-alley butcher says, ‘Hey, I can fix that.’” His voice dropped, mocking. “And then you end up here. Three suns frying you alive. Makes you wish for the dark.”

Y/N folded her arms. “You think this is funny?”

Jungkook’s smirk sharpened. “You gotta laugh, sweetheart. Otherwise, you cry. And crying makes you thirsty.” He tapped his temple with one shackled finger. “Pro tip for desert living.”

Y/N let out a slow breath. “You killed before. You don’t deny that. But this one? Daku? You expect me to believe you didn’t?”

Jungkook went still. For a fraction of a second, something cracked in his expression. Then, it was gone—buried beneath that infuriating smirk.

“No, ma’am,” he said smoothly. “Not this time.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Then where is he?”

Jungkook leaned forward, just enough for the heat between them to become noticeable. The chains at his wrists rattled softly, but his focus was all on her. “Look deeper,” he murmured.

The way he said it—low, deliberate, dripping with something she didn’t like—sent a cold, involuntary shiver down her spine.

“What does that mean?” she demanded.

Jungkook didn’t answer immediately. He tilted his head, studying her like he was measuring how much she could take before she broke. And then, in a voice barely above a whisper—a voice that sent her stomach twisting with something she didn’t want to name—he said, “Wrong questions.”

She swallowed hard. “What are you talking about?”

Jungkook sat back, his expression unreadable. Deadly.

“Daku ain’t the only one who’s not where he’s supposed to be,” he said softly. “Or haven’t you noticed?”

A chill slid down her spine. His words settled in her chest like a loaded gun.

Y/N’s breath hitched. “What are you saying?”

Jungkook tilted his head, his bruised lips curling slightly. “You’ll see.” His voice was calm, certain, almost amused. And then—softer, darker, almost like a promise: “And when you do? You’ll wish you hadn’t.”

© chimcess, 2025. Do not copy or repost without permission.

Taglist: @fancypeacepersona @ssbb-22 @mar-lo-pap @sathom013 @kimyishin

[peoniesnro]

Chapeter Index

In Another Universe

Synopsis- When you're just another iteration of Park Jimins girlfriend in a different universe.

Genre- Parallel universe au/ Strangers to ??/ Smut/ Angst/ Fluff/ Infidelity

Warnings - Smut / Infidelity/ Language

Status - Ongoing

Taglist?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter #1. Park Jimin

Chapter #2. A Lil' Roll

Chapter #3. Perfect Strangers

Chapter #4. F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Chapter #5. A beautiful memory

Chapter #6. A day in paradise

Chapter #7. GOOD FUCKING BYE!

Chapter #8. The Burning Pit of Fire

Chapter#9. Make It Right

Chapter#10. The Other Woman

Chapter#11. Jeon Jungkook

Chapter#12. RUINED and DESTROYED

Chaprer#13. Falling Deep and Down

Chapter #14. Beginning of the END

[1343401]

masterlists ⋆｡𖦹 °🐋⋆｡˚♡

ot7 series -

echos of the sea

synopsis: dragged into the pages of a novel she can’t escape, noh jiah finds herself serving yiseo, the kingdom’s flawless heroine. but as the men who adore her best friend begin to look at jiah with hunger in their eyes, a dangerous game of passion and power ensues. each man more captivating than the last, and with a world full of secrets and temptations, jiah realizes she’s no longer a mere background character. she’s the one who might just break the hearts of all seven men, or have them bow to her will. the lines between loyalty, love, and lust blur as she dares to rewrite her fate.

pairing: bts x reader

started: 01.20.25

status: ongoing

word count: 68.7 k

warnings: depictions of violence, smut (eventually), death, family trauma, insecurities, mentions of blood

captive desires

synopsis: after the passing of her grandparents, myah inherits their mansion, the only home she’s ever known. but when she stumbles upon a hidden basement, she uncovers a chilling secret: her grandparents weren’t just caretakers, they were notorious hybrid hunters, and the seven hybrids they captured are still alive. horrified, myah vows to set them free, but the hybrids have a darker plan. in a twist of retribution, they demand she care for them in exchange for their freedom. now, trapped in a deadly game of desire, control, and obsession myah must decide how far she’s willing to go to survive and whether she can resist the pull of the very creatures her grandparents sought to control.

pairing: bts x reader

started: 02.06.25

status: ongoing

word count: 13.9 k

warnings: depictions of violence, smut (eventually), death, family trauma, mentions of blood, slight yandere-ish behavior

requiem of the broken

synopsis: park minji's entire existence had been confined to the cold, sterile walls of the breeding facility. a place where women were no more than vessels for the insatiable hunger of the vampiric elite. she had known nothing but fear, awaiting her fate: to be chosen for breeding, or sold as food to the bloodthirsty. but when she is selected by the coven of the damned, she is thrust into a dark, twisted world of power, lust, and unimaginable cruelty. now, minji is not just prey, she is the object of their relentless, carnal desires, a pawn in a deadly game of dominance. as the vampires take turns bending her to their will, minji must decide: will she submit to their hunger, or will she burn the world down in a desperate, blood-soaked rebellion of her own? in the coven's grip, there's no mercy, only the unrelenting thirst for power and pleasure that threatens to consume her whole.

pairing: bts x reader

started: 02.09.25

status: ongoing

word count: 3.1 k

warnings: depictions of violence, 18+, death, non con, mentions of blood, vampires, selling of people

taglist: @canarystwin @sathom013 @gracefulsakura98 @ihatesnakeu7 @dachshunddame @moonxxlover @lovelyglares @multifandomfreakster-blog @dawnzephyr

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[hufflepuffwriter1995]

 Finding The Pack 

 Pairing: Plus Size!Named Reader x BTS  

Pack Status: Pack Alpha Namjoon. Alphas: Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. Omega: Lilith (Reader) 

Warnings: Brief Mentions of Omega Abuse (not by BTS), Mentions of Kidnapping, and Eventual Smut. 

Themes: Omegaverse, Fantasy, Supernatural, Reverse Harem, 

Ratings: 18+  

Summary:  On the night before she is set to marry the abusive Dorian Redfern, Lilith takes matters into her own hands and escapes. While life without a pack is dangerous, she knows she’s better off alone. At least, that is until she meets seven males, who quickly show her not only her worth but how beautiful life can be. She can only hope now that they are enough to keep her old life from catching up to her.

Chapter One

Prologue: 

  “Jin darling be careful.” Jisoo Kim laughs as she carefully pulls her three-year-old little boy away from the crib that holds her newest addition to the home-run daycare. Jin let out a whine of protest, little hands gripping the side of the crib as he freed himself, his face pressed against it. 

  “Gotta keep safe!” He cries, hazel eyes never leaving the slumbering baby. As a beta, his mother immediately knows what is happening and can’t help the grin that crosses her face. She will need to befriend the older couple that brought the pup in, if only because she will be damned if she takes away her son’s mate. Fears of him hurting the baby vanish with this newfound information and she smiles as she heads back to make lunch. Unaware that the text she sends along the way to the mother, a picture with the caption “It looks like we will be quite close” will cause the life she imagines for her son to vanish. 

  When the little girl is picked up that night, she is never returned and all of Jisoo Kim’s desperate attempts of contact go unanswered. When she finally goes to the address they had given her, she finds that oddly enough the family that just moved in moved out just as quickly. She will never be able to forget the look of pain in her youngest eyes or shake the feeling that something is very wrong. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

  As an Alpha, Eliza Min hates being told what to do, especially by a Beta. However, when the couple arrives, begging for her help to watch their daughter, the same daughter that her youngest has been watching like a hawk from the safety of their backyard, she doesn’t decline. Even when the woman all but snarls her demand to keep any male child away from her daughter. Eliza Min finds the wording of the demand odd, especially on the insistence of it only being a male child. Odd enough she doesn’t stop Yoongi when he sits down and begins to play with the now almost one-year-old. 

  It’s because of her stubborn nature and the fact that she just does not like these people that she keeps the fact that Yoongi plays daily with the daughter for a year and a half. The truth only being discovered when the precious little thing that is that baby girl tells her father with so much excitement that she just can't wait to play with her boyfriend Yoongi. 

  The odd couple move in the middle of the night, leaving Eliza furious and her son heartbroken, demanding to know why they would take his little flower away from him. Eliza attempts to get the law involved but really, there isn’t a law stating that parents can’t be strange. As the years go on, Eliza can’t forget about the little girl and finds herself worrying that maybe, just maybe, her wolf is right and the strange marks were never just accidents. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

    Sana Jung meets the family at a park. Her children, Hoseok and his twin Ryoko, are playing happily in the sandbox when a shy little girl approaches and asks to play. At once, Hoseok, her little Alpha in training, agrees and hands her most of his snack as they play. Insisting that she eat. Sana watches the three with a proud, motherly smile, a smile that turns sour at the look of fury on the other woman’s face as she drags her screaming child away. Her hissed words ringing in Sana’s ears. “Didn’t we tell you to stay away from boys?” 

  That night over dinner, she tells her Alpha’s everything, begging for them to do something. For the next three weeks her alpha’s look for the strange family. Finally coming back with the news Sana didn’t want to hear. They moved and no, they didn’t leave a new address. They don’t stop looking though, if only because of the way Hoseok had responded to the little girl's cries of distress, his first true snarl rumbling through his chest in a way that told Sana all she needed to know. Her son’s luna had just been ripped away and she would be damned if she allows that to continue. 

~~~~~~~~ 

   Crystal Kim was a true alpha, a pack leader among alphas. She was a force to be messed with. This is why, when the new couple across the street had a little girl who looked exactly as her friend Sana had described, she marched over there and introduced herself. As a couple of betas, neither could close the door on her, the wolves reacting to her despite not being a member of her pack. They couldn’t stop her from kneeling and speaking softly to their daughter, nor could they stop her from letting the little girl go and play with her Namjoon. She could tell both hated it, especially when Namjoon began presenting the same signs, the same protective displays an alpha has over their mate.  

  It didn’t come as a surprise to find that they had once again fled in the middle of the night. But it gave her all the information she needed to know. Something was up with the seemingly kind older couple and she would be damned if she didn’t figure out what was going on. 

  ~~~~~~ 

   SangHee Jeon had been watching her neighbour's children, Taehung and Jimin, along with her own little Jungkook when she met the couple. They were exhausted and cranky and left the girl on her doorstep with a list of very strict instructions. She had done her best to keep the little girl away from the three boys, but it was hard. The three boys did not want to be kept away from the girl and took it upon themselves to plot ways to go around her. She spent the better of her afternoon trying to explain to the three boys that it was not her insisting they kept away from the girl, but her parents and begged them to just listen. They would agree, for all of twenty minutes before she made some sound that had them gathered together in the corner whispering as they plotted a new way to get to her. 

  In the end, Sanghee had carefully asked if maybe next time they just allow the children to play together, only to be met with a snarled curse of “Fuck off” and “She’s a little slut, it's for their own good, not her’s.” She had bristled at the words and decided that the next time they showed up, she wouldn’t allow them to take the girl back. Only they never did come back and Sanghee was left with the itch that maybe she never should have allowed them to take her after that night. 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

  When Lilith turned sixteen she was hit with an ache in her soul. An ache that left her feeling empty, as if something was missing. She didn’t know what and didn’t dare try and broach the subject with her parents. They hated, HATED when she asked questions. Even something as simple as “What is for dinner” was met with a hard slap across the face and a cold reminder to not ask questions. 

  She spent most of her time since her sixteenth birthday locked away in the basement, kept hidden from everyone outside of her pack or rather her parent's pack. Their Alpha, a cold man named Carter, had told her that he knew the truth and wouldn’t accept a whore into his pack. So any hope she had of finding freedom was torn away by his cold words. Still, sometimes, in the dead of night, she remembered the comforting touch of a memory, of a boy she couldn’t quite remember and the gentle hands that had made her feel safe. 

   She had no idea that on her twentieth-ninth birthday, everything would change.

[run-its-moon]

A Song Once Forgotten - Chapter One

Pairing: BTS (OT7) X Reader

Genre/Themes: Dragon!AU, Shifter!AU, Pioneer themes, Powers, War, possible/Eventual smut

Warning's: 18+ for gore, minor swearing, possible smut, Character Death (not OT7), Animal death, Religion/history being rewritten, topics that relate to climate change, Eventual War, humanity is kind of Oppressed,

Hi everyone! I'm really ecstatic about posting this on here, there is also some character profiles on my page to check out for a little bit of a sneak peak of whats going to be coming.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Here in a clearing that a small settlement has taken upon to live in. Near the outskirts of the settlement, a small Spindly path leads up to a cabin in the woods, trees cluttered around the home, much further away from others. The cabin bears home to a Father and Daughter. Though her father is dying and the settlement has plans for her that have been set for generations. Will she leave or stay?

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Mornings are the coldest this time of the year, with frost thickening the ground and leaves falling. Crops were always harvested before the frosty mornings came. Father used to be out chopping wood right as the sun rose, but with his sickness he stays inside near the fireplace. Saying his limbs need the warmth to stay loose. Although those topics hardly cross my mind that morning, while I'm stuffing my boots on. Keeping my layers thick, it may not be the cold stretch officially but it was nearly here.

I tugged my cloak to sit on my shoulders just right while I chewed the inside of my cheek, a habit I couldn’t break. Pushing a little on the wooden floor just to hear the creaking. Just as I reached for my bow I heard the creaking of a door. 

“y/n?” I looked over my shoulder to see father standing just outside of the door to his room. The sun hadn’t peaked up through the trees just yet, though there he stood still in his bedwear, with sleep clinging to his old face.

“Father?” I made my way around the lumber pile near the front door, standing nearly infront of him. I went to question why he was out of bed, instead being met with his calloused hand instead as he started to speak.

“Be careful out there today, yesterday your Uncle Ty said there was a bear lurking around close to the cattle.” he gripped my shoulder lovingly with a small squeeze. “I meant to say something yesterday but you know how I am.”

A smile gripped my lips, I more than appreciated that my father cared to warn me so early even though he was obviously tired.

He’s always been genuine. Even with his health getting worse every day. “Thank you father, I'll keep low, and stray from there.” he nodded, closing his eyes, and sighed. Over time his eyes have developed crows feet even more so since the last few years. Losing most of his muscle as well due to his sickness. But the old man held onto life the best he could, still working with wood and bone. Even when his body doesn't cooperate.

“I'm off to bed again, I’ll be up later on in the day.” he turned around while running a hand through his greying hair. “Bring back something for dinner, we're low again...” unable to clearly hear the last part he muttered.

“Pardon Father?” I asked, grabbing my bow off the old rack near the front door.

“Nothing Deer, I was just talking to myself.” I nodded at his retreating figure. Chewing on the side of my cheek while slinging the quiver over my shoulder. Once my quiver was secure I made sure to check my clothes and the bow before I put my arm through it to keep it on my shoulder.

“I’ll be back soon!” I let out a shout as I closed the door behind me. Stilling for a moment in the cold morning air I sighed. Taking note of the darkened ground around me.

I watched the sky for a moment, the rain clouds still grey from last night’s late shower. ‘Hopefully the hunt won't be too difficult with the mud.’ It definitely wasn’t ideal to hunt but even a rabbit would suffice. I licked my lips, “Rabbit stew sounds delicious right now.” Setting forward, I picked a direction away from the farm in the settlement to enter the depths of the forest. 

The brush was usually thicker during the warmer parts of the year, but now it was near barren with nothing but some gold-yellow leaves left. Although we live so far from the rest of the settlement it was better this way, living close to the woods. The settlement wasn’t that busy often, especially since there’s not many people that come to and fro to trade with, were truly just a group of humans grouping together for survival.

I love my life, though with my fathers declining health it wasn’t perfect. He had some issue the healer couldn’t pin point, all they know is that it drains him more and more. They say he doesn’t have too much longer, maybe a year or so, but each cold stretch took more of his body away. 

Choosing to ignore the thoughts of impending doom I focused fully on the world around me to begin my hunt. 

-

I Watched a rabbit closely with an eagle eye, pinpointed on every movement it made. The rabbit chewed on the lower leaves of a bush that had yet to turn gold. Keeping my feet light on the soil, while avoiding the twigs and large branches on the brush around me. ‘I can't scare it away.’ I think to myself almost as if it was a matra. I pulled one of my arrows out of the quiver, notching the arrow into the bow and aimed towards its back. Keeping my arms completely still, I hadn't noticed when I started holding my breath, but I didn't move a muscle.

I kept still for a moment, holding the bow close to my lowered body as I simply watched the rabbit eat. Just as it lifted its body up to sniff I let the arrow loose. 

I watched as the arrow struck the rabbits neck. Releasing the breath I was holding. Slinging my bow back around my body while walking towards the rabbit, still kicking its feet before it stilled.

I Grabbed the rabbit by the back feet, and pulled out the arrow. “May your life be blessed, the trip to your after life be quick, may you rest easy knowing you gave purpose.” then tied the rabbit by the feet with a string of twine after my prayer for the catch. ‘Thankfully I saw it, Father will be quite glad about this.’

Putting the rabbit under my arm for the walk home. The forest felt as though it loomed larger than life, the branches swayed far above. An odd creak would echo through the forest. it was unsettling with all the noises, the wind was definitely stronger. Bringing cold bursts with it and crow calls, making all the sounds feel so much closer.  

I'll just stop by the settlement quickly after getting home, I don't particularly want to be out in this cold for much longer anymore. Even with my lined cloak I could still feel the odd burst of cold fly past me. Shivering more than that morning, the sun was still up watching it peak through the near barren branches. 

My heart dropped with a sudden rumble of a roar striking the silent forest. I dropped to the ground hiding in the brush. Holding a breath, above me so far above, I watched the clouds caress    the flying shape of what could only be a dragon. Shocking me that it was almost the same size as the clouds, I watched it roar again before veering northwards. 

“Oh my world..” I'd never seen one with my own eye’s rather I only heard tales of them from others in my village. One of the newer members said one burnt down his old settlement, which is why he came from the forest burned and scraped up carrying nothing but a small bag. Others claimed they were vicious cruel monsters with no thoughts or feelings.

No one truly knows.

I allowed my heart to slow back to a normal pace before I moved forward. Though I couldn't hold myself back from looking up towards the sky wondering if I'll ever see another dragon in my lifetime.

-

My Walk ended by the sight of the wooden cabin, just being able to see the shaky two story building from my spot near the border of the woods. I trudged through the little bit of the woods I had left before I reached the clearing. Taking my time before I had to go inside. “ I should mention how little prey there is to hunt out, especially with how soon the cold stretch will be here.” muttering to myself as I breached the line between the forest and home. 

Once inside I made sure to lock the door with the wooden beam, usually father didn't bother to lock it all too often but it should be more often with his health. “Why didn’t you lock the door again?” I called out towards the back room where I knew he’d be. Huddled up beside the fireplace whittling some wood. 

“Because I didn't want to get up to unlock it once you got back deer.” I turned around like deja vu to see him standing leaning against the door frame. Rolling my eyes while I hung my bow and quiver up on the rack he made years ago.

“I see you caught a rabbit, run into any bears?” he laughed a little, before clutching his side, missing his look of pain i just smiled while i took my cloak off. Hanging it up beside the bow. “Why don’t we sit by the fire for a moment?”

Shaking my head while walking into the Disheveled mess of a kitchen. “Can’t I’m going into town and see Aunt Petunia and trade this pelt with Ivern for some carrots.”

“Why don't you turn the hide into some new boot linings?” I stopped myself from giving him a dirty look and just sighed.

 ‘If he's not mentioning the dragon from earlier maybe he didn't see it..’ I smiled to myself briefly before facing my father again. “I think getting carrots will be better, I’m going to go out for a while tomorrow like last year.” he grimaced then opened his mouth to speak, but i interrupted him. “Yes i already know what you're going to say, but it's better if i go hunt down a deer, the cold stretch will be here sooner then later and it's better if i do this now. Father please you can’t do it anymore and it’s better done sooner than later.” 

My father trailed into the kitchen, leaning against a wobbly table as he spoke. “Your boots are old, and yes that's fine just make sure to ask petunia for one of her horses so you're not walking back with a dead carcass.” Then he bent over to pull out a tuff of fur from a boot. “And yet you tell me these are fine for the cold?” I rolled my eyes at him while I reached around to grab a knife. 

“The boots are fine father, why did you do that anyways.” He had this smug look on his face while he moved around me to grab the other rabbit pelt.

“Just go get new boots, deer you’re crazy if you think you’ll last out there.” I shrugged and ignored him, continuing to cut up the rabbit I had in front of me.

He grunted and left the kitchen. “I'll just make a hat from the pelt father so don't fret too much.” No response from him left me peacefully cutting up the rabbit and prepping the stew to cook on the fire place for later. I may not have eaten lunch or breakfast but he didn't need to know that.

“Father excuse me old man.” I bumped his shoulder with my hip while I carried the old stone pot full of water and rabbit pieces. 

“Oh now you're mentioning my age? Are we going to talk about you being 20 and unmarried yet?” Two years passed the traditional marriage age, with no plans on it either.

“I'm not that old, I haven't even killed a caribou yet.” What I really wanted to say was that I just saw a dragon for the first time in my 20 years of life. Yet I kept my mouth shut and just smiled at him. 

Before I realized it the sun was past the middle point, The hide was wrapped with twine and under my arm for a trip to the settlement. Hopefully the walk would end up too long, my bones felt a little weak with how much i had travelled already. “Father? Could you keep an eye on the stew please? I'm going to head down to the settlement and trade this with Ivern.” I headed back towards the door, then shoved my feet into my boots and threw my cloak on a little bit in a hurry. I was already ready by the time I had heard from him.

Rolling my eyes I simply left. Shutting the door behind me, I made sure the door was closed a second time before I left for the settlement. The trail to the settlement was a little worn path in the ground from the years we have travelled to see the other’s.

Although the settlement was usually nicer during the warm stretches, with some flowers around the homes people built, especially around the pond in the middle. 

The walk was over with my fast paced walk because of how badly i wanted to get out of the cold. Standing just at the entrance of the clearing they had created before I was even a thought. Around 13 cabins sprawled about, along with a few garden patches at the backs of them. Everyone around is fairly self sufficient, we can't grow crops very well on the rockier terrain where father has his cabin. Usually everyone is willing to trade with us since father creates some of the best wood working in town, he gets commissioned often, but with his health he no longer does larger pieces like he used to, and with no black smith anymore it gets difficult to get decent tools for his work. But I like to believe we're comfortably living, even if it is all we know how to live.

Not far from where I stood, there was a smaller pen with a single cow and donkey, the two of them moved towards the gate when they saw me. The donkey was doing his little call to me while I moved towards the pen. “Hi guys! How are you two doing?.” The donkey, henry and his friend tulip who was an all white milk cow, the two of them were owned by the newer resident of the settlement coming here around 4 years ago. He was a nice fellow only a few years older than me. I got closer to the fence line, where tulip immediately turned around to try and lick my face. “Tulip! I don't want you to slobber on me girl.” laughing while I tried to pet the top of her head while avoiding her tongue.

“I gotta go you too, bye henry bye tulip.” A smile was on my face while I pet the two of them. The house next to it was Iverns.  Setting at a quick pace again, the sooner I was home the better. I really hated going to the settlement without my father, but it was becoming more and more common as the year got colder. 

Iverns home was a single story cabin with a small deck on the front, only a little bit off the ground but it made a huge difference when it got muddy from the snow. Stepping up onto the wooden planks of the deck, then knocking on the door for a few beats. A small grunt came from inside then he was at the door, holding it open just a crack until he saw me. 

“Hi Ivern.” I waved with a small smile before he opened the door full. Eye’s lit up at the sight of me. 

“Y/N! What do I owe the pleasure of seeing out today?” He then moved to standing on the porch with me. I knew he was looking for a rabbit pelt for his wife, so I was really hoping to trade him for carrots. I held up the rabbit pelt with a small smile on my face as I watched his face light up.

“It's got a nice density, and I know your wife likes rabbit pelts, bet she’d like this one.” The rabbit was a nice brown colour, and with how I hit it earlier with my arrow little damage was done to the pelt. 

“You have me there y/n what do you want for it.” putting the pelt back under my arm while I pretended to think for a moment.

“Carrots.” was all i said for him to turn back inside to go get what i asked for. 

Moving to sit on the end of the porch. I watched a duck swim in the pond from across the settlement. Every so often it would go under water then come back up, keeping myself occupied by watching the bird while I waited for Ivern to return.

“y/n?”

‘Shit.’ To the left of me stood Alexander, one of the reasons I avoid going to the settlement without my father. He was an overly annoying boy around my age. A thin, scrawny one with a sunken look to his face. Which was ironic because of who his parents were. I waved at him, not bothering to look away from the duck again.

The floorboards creaked a little and before I knew it he was sitting inches away from me. I quickly moved away from him. 

“Hi, is there something you need help with?” now looking directly at him. ‘Why doesn't he ever take the hint? Maybe that dragon should come back and eat me where I sit.’

He was average looking in all aspects, but if he’d put some muscle on himself maybe he would look more appealing but the sunken look on his face would always be unsettling to me. 

“No not of that sort, just haven't seen you in awhile. How have you been?” 

‘Ivern, save me please.’ I mentally groaned to myself. Trying to not grind my teeth with how uncomfortable I was.

“I'm doing well. Thank you, but I'm waiting for Ivern, then I'm off to my uncles for something quickly before going home.”  he nodded, barely able to see him out of the corner of my eye.

“It's also getting darker, I can also walk you back home.” It was still a little while after sun high. 

“No thank you, I appreciate it though.”

“Oh, come on y/n how would you be able to defend yourself if that bear showed up?”

‘I guess everyone here didn't see or hear the dragon then. But he's fully aware I can hunt, I've dropped off plenty of meat to trade with his parents.’

“No truly it's okay, i’ve got the self defence covered, don't worry.” now chewing on the side of my mouth. I tried occupying myself by going through my bag but he continued talking.

“Oh surely y/n-”

“y/n! I've got the carrots.” 

‘What took so long Ivern, I was about to smack the boy.’ Hurrying to Ivern so quickly I almost tripped on the lip of the porch.

“Thanks Ivern! Really appreciate it! I hope the wife likes the rabbit pelt! By the way, I caught it this morning." taking the carrots, i walked away. 

“Oh alexander! I was looking for you.” I glanced back towards the two, then watched as Alexander begrudgingly agree to whatever it was that Ivern wanted from him. 

Petunia or as I prefer to call her Aunt Petunia, was married to my fathers best friend Ty, technically we are  family somewhat in a way. With a little more pep in my step I made my way across the settlement to their house. They owned most of the horses in the settlement, especially after my mother passed. 

Their Cabin was smaller than Ivern’s, only 3 rooms with a little out house in the back. I made my way to their front door, knocking politely while I waited. 

I waited for a few moments outside as I listened to Petunia yell at Ty from what I could only assume was their kitchen. A mere moment later a tall man with a greying beard and a knitted hat stepped outside.

“Uncle Ty? I was wondering if aunt petunia was around, I have a question for the both of you.” He nodded then turned around still holding open the front door.

“Pea! y/n’s here!” A few shuffles came from inside, then before I knew it Petunia was warping her arms around me and ruffling my hair. 

“Hi honey! How are things!” I pulled back from the hug a few inches to get a good look at her face. Petunia, a red headed woman that's just starting to get her grey hairs, though her face was beautifully freckled. The freckles covered the entirety of her face, and with her slightly pointed nose I always thought she was beautiful, especially her green eyes.

I smiled at the woman again before she released me from her death grip of a hug. “Things have been good Auntie, Father’s watching the stew while I come ask you guys something.”

“Must something pretty important for you to come all this way just to ask a question?” Nervously I started running a hand through my hair. 

“Well I also got carrots!” holding up the 3 carrots I got from Ivern. ‘I'm pretty sure he gave us an extra one too.’ Lowering the carrots back down to my side. “I wanted to know if i could borrow one of the horses for a hunting trip, father says its the only way i can go.” mustering up a nervous smile waiting for their reaction.

Ty and Petunia both looked at each other for a moment, Tys eyes squinting for a moment before he nodded. “Yes you can, just make sure they get enough food and water please. Meet me here tomorrow morning as well and I'll saddle up with you.” Petunia was wiping her hands on the front of her dress while she talked. Then she turned back to look at me again. “I'll have it decided tomorrow which one you’ll take with you.”

“Thank you auntie!” I smiled at her before we both enveloped the other into a hug again, she kissed the side of my temple before letting go. 

“Please stay safe honey, it's dangerous out there and it's getting colder.” I nodded at the two of them before walking away. I could hear them both go back inside a few moments later. 

Suddenly I felt a grip on my upper arm, shocked a little I turned to see Ty holding my arm in a fairly tight grip. “y/n we should talk, me and your father-”

“If it's about me being married I'll pass.” I pulled, more like ripped my arm out of his grasp. 

“y/n you need to realize you don’t have much time before-”

“No I will not aheed to the traditions-”

“y/n you are not above traditions and rules. You must realize that before he is dead. All your parents want from you is a good husband.” At this point we were in a staring match. Though I took a moment and looked away. 

“No, I may not be above tradition. But I will not wear a dress, I don't want to stop hunting, I don't want to be stuck in this settlement with a man that doesnt love me!” I turned around to break out into a sprint. ‘How fucking dare he, its not his place.’ 

“y/n come back here were not done this fucking conversation!”

-

I got home a little later than I would have liked, exhaustion already getting to me from the event’s of today. I reached the front door a little more sluggish than earlier, hunger getting to me finally. With my one hand cramping from holding onto the carrots so tight, and the last bit of adrenaline leaving my system finally. 

Even with the sky starting to get dark, as the older folks say it gets darker up here near the mountains compared to the settlements near the beaches.

“Father, how's the pot looking?” I asked the moment I walked into the cabin. The fireplace was still going from what I could hear. 

In the back room my father sat on his stool beside the fireplace, hunched over and staring down at the pot. “Almost done y/n. Deer, come sit down and look at the fire with me.”

“In a moment father, I'm going to cut the carrots to add.” In the kitchen I cut up a carrot with a knife, chopping them into thinner slices, leaving the other two carrots in a basket in one of the cupboards. Dumping the handful of carrot slices into the pot near my father, I then moved to sit beside him. 

“Father, how was your day?” he gently smiled to himself before meeting my eyes. 

“It was well deer, thank you for asking.”

“I'm glad father, Oh and that boy alexander came up to me today again. Saying that he’d walk me home because of the bear.” laughing a little before I continued. “But Ivern saved me from his miserable chatter, and took him inside claiming he was looking for him. That boy's insufferable father.” his eyes crinkled at the sides when he smiled. 

“y/n I know you dislike that boy but give him some slack he's got a big family at home." I snorted at his response. 

“So? Doesn't make much of a difference when he assumes I can't take care of myself father.”

“I suppose you're right, deer.” I chewed on my cheek at the mention of Alexander's family. I simply nodded in response.

Me and father sat beside each other, my hand on his knee while we waited for the carrots to sink into the soup. I wasn't sure how long we stayed like this, silently enjoying the company of each other. With the fire roaring in the background licking at the bottom of the pot.

Our dinner was the same, eating out of hand carved bowls. Sipping on the stew while watching the fire. He didn't move from his stool, and i didnt move from my spot on the floor beside him. Life felt perfectly normal, and that itch on my side left me alone while I enjoyed the peace. 

After dinner we both went to bed, his room was on the main floor, the door way into there was in the living room, while I climbed the stairs to head to bed. “y/n, i love you goodnight.” he called out, smiling to myself before replying.

“Love you too father, goodnight.” 

-

The next morning i was rushing around to pack, though when i looked out one of the windows there was already snowfall, a nervous ghost of a feeling crept up my spine at the sight. Doubling up on pants and two shirts was my solution to it. 

Though I still struggled to not feel nervous, biting on the inside of my cheek. While I packed up some food, which included a half carrot and some leftover chicken jerky from earlier that season. I was aware of my limits for food and how to cook food at a fire, i would be self sufficient when it called for it. 

Packing up a satchel with the food and two hunting knives for my excursion. I also made sure to bundle up more than yesterday, putting on my thicker fur cloak, and gloves. 

“I didn't expect the snow to fall so early this year.” The moment I stepped outside it was my first thought, usually we had a few more days for all the leaves to fall from the sky but oddly enough the cold stretch already began.

Though I ignored the nervous itching on my side. I needed to leave for Petunia and ty’s soon if I wanted to be gone before sunrise. ‘Even if Ty pissed me off, I need to head out.’

It was increasingly colder compared to yesterday, but now I stood in front of the gates to Petunia's pasture. It wasn't very large. Just big enough to hold 6 horses without getting too close to Alexander's family’s cattle pen behind it. 

When I opened the gate a few of the horses looked up from their hay. Though i stood there for a moment in the cold, letting the snow whip around my cloak. Watching the small streaks of sunrise above the tree’s. “y/n!” I turned quickly to see petunia leaning against the fence. 

“Hi Auntie, did you decide on which horse I'd bring?” she smiled softly, looking back towards the back end of the pasture. 

“Well there's that big buckskin named Adonis, The red spotted one blue, she's a good girl but she's a little small, Rocky is a little out there. Hera’s got a foal coming in a few month’s at the start of planting. I'll need your help with her. She's that round palomino. The last two are blue and hera’s from two years, do you remember that.” while petunia talked to me i had watched each of them Blue looked like a good choice, even if she was a broodmare. I also have ridden hera before she was usually a really good mare.

“Of course I remember those two, I named blue’s foal that year comet. I'll take adonis if that's okay? Rocky almost kicked me before while I was bringing them hay." Petunia was standing beside me, arm warped around my shoulder in a half embrace. 

“He got too excited that time I'm guessing?” Nodding to her, while we walked over to Adonis, up close he was a little bit bigger than I am, his withers just above my head, but his black mane and tail were a beautiful striking contrast from the snow. 

“Hi boy.” she chuckled, smiling brightly at me while I held my hand out to the stallion, he simply nuzzled my hand before going back to his hay.  We both smiled at each other, while she pretended to wrap a leed over his neck to have him follow us.

We stopped near a small wooden storage box behind her house. Adonis had followed us the entire way close behind her. “I'll help you saddle him, auntie don't worry.” I waved off her protests and saddled him up myself, leaving the bit for last.

“How long do you think you'll be y/n?” I stilled once she asked. ‘How long was I going to be?’ shrugging at her while I slipped a foot into the stirrups. We adjusted the stirrups once I was seated, giving her a nod once they were corrected.

“I'm unsure as of now, though I won't be returning till I hunt something large enough to last.” A firm nod was all I received from her. We stared at each other for a long moment, silence so loud my ears rang. Suddenly a single caw let loose from behind us. Turning in the saddle only to see a crow, huddled on the branch of a singular tree near us. It shifted, time froze, feeling the little beady eyes upon my soul before it disappeared into the cold morning.

“That was strange.” Petunia said before I could get my bearings together and startled me. I swung around to face her, she was smiling a little. But her brows were creased, barely visible under her bangs. I sighed before looking down at my hands, she was right it was in fact a little odd. 

Nevertheless i must still leave’.  I gave Petunia the best smile I could muster. “I'll be off now, i don't think i'll be gone long with this guy.” A simple curt nod was all I received before me and Adonis took off, heading northward towards the forest.

[liilithmin]

쉽게 말하지 마, 너 없는 난 없어

[yoongsisbae]

Bon Voyage: Into the Sea - Chapter 6

A storm capsized your boat and looks like you were the only survivor. Somehow you made it to shore, but where? Stranded, you suddenly find out you are not alone, and now you’re stuck in the middle of a centuries old conflict between 7 monsters.

BTS fantasy AU. OT7 x reader. werewolf!Namjoon x werewolf!Hoseok x werewolf!Jungkook x siren!Yoongi x vampire!Jimin x vampire!Jin x whatis?Taehyung.

If you enjoy this series and want more updates, please leave a comment or reblog!

Warnings: smutty content, mind control, blood-drinking cause vampire things, dubconish, light yandere, voyeur, lots of neck licking lol

Word count: 12.1k

---

“You are going to be the reason we all die.”

“Jimin, stop,” Jin says. “Dove, we need to know what Taehyung said to you,” he asks, much more diplomatically. 

You shake your head, trying to make your way closer to the vampires, but the men around you have made an impressive barrier. How are you going to explain the lost months you experienced, the things you witnessed in Jimin’s memory? You stare at the angry younger vampire, how are you going to convince Jimin to help you?

“Jimin, you need to bite me.”

“What?!”

-

“What did you do to her?!” Hoseok roars at the vampire in question, who looks equally as shocked and offended at the accusation. 

“Nothing!” you interject, but your words fall on deaf ears.

“He did something to her to make her act like this!” Hoseok yells louder, turning his frustrations onto his pack leader.

“She has been calling out to him since we found her,” Yoongi tells Namjoon, confirming Hoseok’s accusations.

“What?! What did you do!” Jungkook growls out. “I’ll kill you-”

“It’s my fault that she's obsessed with me?” Jimin crosses his arms, looking away like the entire display was beneath him.

“Do you want to stop Taehyung or not?!”

The men exchange looks. “We need a plan, a real one,” Yoongi says, dismissing you. “The longer we wait-”

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who furiously glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

“I told you! Jimin needs to bi-”

“No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Everyone, silence!” Namjoon bellows and a tense silence settles in the air.

You speak up first, desperate to make them understand you. “Jin, why exactly did you forbid Jimin to bite me in the first place? Huh? Why?!” you challenge him.

Everyone stares at the eldest, even the vampire in question himself. Seokjin’s finger runs over his forehead, moving a stray lock of hair back in place. He clears his throat, “I did not want to cause him any pain-”

“What do you mean pain?” Jimin asks, repulsed. “She can’t hurt me!”

You huff, “Your memories, Jimin, your life-”

“There are certain memories better forgotten,” Seokjin interjects.

“No, no,” you say shakily. You had wished to forget this place so many times locked up in the vampire’s lair, and then when you did, you lost more than just the memories, you lost yourself. “No.”

And Jimin, he too, is lost. 

You glance over to the defiant vampire. “You have to bite me, you’re the only one who can stop Taehyung!”

Jimin looks around at everyone’s concerned faces, growing more irritated. Why does he have to be the one to stop Taehyung? Jimin never agreed to even help! And what makes you even think he has that kind of power? 

“Why?” It was Hoseok who questioned you angrily, upset at the way you are treating Jimin with such fondness. “Why him?!”

“Because he knows magic,” you say simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I d-don’t know magic,” he spits out. You couldn’t be any more wrong, Jimin thinks, who the fuck do you think you are, acting like you know so much about him, better than himself!

But everyone is silent, eyes full of guilt and remorse, looking at him as if they know something he doesn’t. The kind of look that Jimin despises.

“You do,” you say with more conviction. “When you were human. I can show you.” You hold out your arm to him as the pack tries still to barricade your body away from the vampires.

“What is she talking about, Jin?” he turns to the eldest. 

“Jin, we don’t have time, you need to be honest with him!”

“Shut up! You are the reason we are even in this mess to begin with, you know that? Just how many times did we tell you to not get so comfy with Taehyung. You let him use you, because you’re weak, you’re-”

“And what about you?! You let Taehyung use you too, didn’t you?!” you scream, your anger getting the better of you.

“Stop!” Namjoon bellows, “Everyone, stop!” He looks furious with you, his hard glare instantly making you feel small and apologetic.

“Don’t order me around, you filthy beast!” Jimin hisses at Namjoon, deep and threatening, his eyes glowing with rage.

“We don't have time,” you whimper desperately. 

Your head is pounding. You feel it…

…inside of you, in the back of your mind…screaming, wrapping around your bones…

…the dread of something horrible coming for you all.

Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with the biggest of the idiots telling him the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. It’s insufferable, you’re insufferable, the way you stare at him now. Whatever spell Taehyung inflicted on you has only changed you for the worse.

“Jimin, I’m afraid we need to work together on this.” The younger vampire yanks himself away from Jin’s comforting hand. He’s beginning to think Seokjin is equally to blame as much as you. He’s beginning not to trust him…

“I’m not fucking helping any of you,” he stares at you, glowering. “Let Taehyung tear you apart,” he growls, baring his fangs.

You shake your head in disbelief. “You wanted to be a doctor, you loved helping people, you became a medic in the military. You fought for your country, you saved people,” you ramble on and on, hoping to convince the vampire to listen to reason. You’re angry that no one has told him, they should have, this shouldn’t be coming from you!

Jimin yells, picks up and throws a wicker chair in your direction in his anger, which Jungkook stops with ease, the chair exploding when it hits the youngest’s shoulder.

Hoseok has had just about enough of Jimin, he hasn’t forgotten the scars he witnessed across your body, he hasn’t forgotten the way you looked so fragile when he found you. This was all the vampires’ fault, and Jimin most of all. That arrogant, cruel, deceptive little-

Hoseok transforms instantly, pouncing on Jimin.

Yoongi pulls you back as the others transform as well. You’re both thrown to the ground as they fight, as they tear the house apart from the inside, unable to cohabitate any longer.

You groan, rolling over, still attempting to get to the headstrong vampire, your hand pressing into broken glass and blood escaping.

At the smell it wasn’t Jimin, but Jin who lost control. So many days drinking from you, addicted in more ways than one. His eyes glow red, searching out your blood. 

Namjoon’s large snout sinks its teeth into the eldest vampire and the fighting only escalates tenfold. Everything is loud, everything is chaos. You try to keep moving closer to the chaos still, until you notice something familiar in front of you. 

You notice the redness of the gem that had fallen out of Yoongi’s pack in the chaos, now shining brighter than ever.

Oh no. You can feel it again, pulling you in. You shuffle backwards, clutching your chest, closing your eyes tightly as the gem burns brighter, glowing like the vampires’ eyes then glowing even more until it envelops the entire home.

-

“Do you all want to stop Taehyung or not?!”

The men exchange looks. “We need a plan, a real one,” Yoongi says, dismissing you. “The longer we wait-”

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

“I told you! Jimin needs to bi-”

“No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Everyone, silence!” Namjoon bellows and a tense silence settles in the air.

This is getting you nowhere. Good God, how are you supposed to make six stubborn beings listen to you?! Think, y/n. Think! You try to come up with a plan, but your head is throbbing in pain.

Jimin speaks up first, “Just what are you playing at, pet?”

You look up at him. “Pull my memories. You’ve already done it once. Just do it again.”

Seokjin looks over at the younger vampire in disbelief.

“I have not,” Jimin looks at you furiously for getting him in trouble over a lie. “She’s obviously suffering from some delusional episode! Listen, you wretched human girl! You’re nothing to me, you mean nothing, so stop these fantasies! right! now!”

“You have, and we saw your mother. You just, ugh, don’t remember because it happened in the future, ugh, just-” you groan, clutching your head. It’s pounding more than ever, and you feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. Your body starts shaking and Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist to steady you.

Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with the biggest of the idiots telling him the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. His mother? You saw his mother? How dare you even talk about her! Like you know anything about her, like you know more than Jimin, who well, knows nothing about his mother…and he doesn’t care to know! 

Who the fuck do you think you are, acting like you know so much about him, better than himself! It’s insufferable, you’re insufferable. Whatever spell that Taehyung inflicted on you has only changed you for the worse. “See! She’s lost it,” he yells, pointing at you. “So weak!”

“Please, I’m not lying,” you cry out. You feel sick. You just want to save them, why won’t they listen to you?! Jungkook holds you tighter as your legs give out.

“What’s happening to her!” Hoseok looks over to his leader worriedly, holding onto your shoulders to keep you upright as you slump forward.

“I think it has something to do with this,” Yoongi pulls the red amulet from his pouch, holding the necklace up and letting it dangle for everyone to see.

“No!” You can’t stop it, it’s already starting again, the red glow emanating directly from the gem, covering everyone and everything in that same red hue, until that’s all you can see.

You clutch your chest, closing your eyes tightly as it burns brighter, until it envelops the entire home. 

-

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

“I told you! Jimin needs to bi-”

“No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Everyone, silence!” Namjoon bellows and a tense silence settles in the air.

You feel your stomach turn again. You feel winded, like you’ve been running. You massage your temples, wiping away the accumulating sweat. God, how are you supposed to make six stubborn beings listen to you?! Think, y/n. Think!

“Why?” Jungkook speaks first, voice full of pain. “Why Jimin out of all of us?” Your heart drops at his hurt expression. You don’t know the right way to explain to Jungkook, to all of them, why this needs to be done, especially now when your head feels like it’s about to explode. When did you become so jittery? What is happening?! You try to concentrate and think, but where do you even begin? 

“W-We all know the power they have, right?” You gesture to the vampires. “The way they can look into your memories when they…but Jimin has never bitten me,” technically that is correct in this point in time, “only Jin-”

“Yeah, and just why is that?” Jimin looks at the eldest vampire pointedly, crossing his arms, fed up with Seokjin’s obtuse answers. “Explain.”

Seokjin sighs, straightening the wrinkly shirt Namjoon had given him to wear. “It was for your protection,” he addresses Jimin.  

“Protection from what?!” Jimin asks, repulsed. “She can’t hurt me!”

“We don’t have time for this,” you mutter. You feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. “Seokjin, make Jimin bite me!”

“SEOKJIN DOESN’T MAKE ME DO ANYTHING,” Jimin roars. You couldn’t be any more wrong, Jimin thinks, who the fuck do you think you are, acting like you know so much about Seokjin, about him, better than himself!

“THEN JUST BITE ME!” You scream back. “You’ve been wanting to all this time!”

The pack watches you argue, stunned into silence. This is news to everyone else; Jimin hasn’t bitten you? And furthermore, Seokjin didn’t want him to bite you. Seokjin had found Namjoon and explained most of what happened, but not that. 

---

“Stay here, in case Hoseok returns.” That was a direct order from his pack leader, and as much as Jungkook wanted to disobey and run towards the thundering noise that had rattled their home, the older shapeshifter was leagues above the young wolf in strength and dominance.

It was luck that Namjoon encountered the pair of vampires instead of his brothers. If it had been anyone else, the vampires might not have made it out with their heads. But Namjoon was always the type to observe first, take everything in before making any rash decision, it’s what kept him alive this long and made Namjoon a leader.

Jin and Namjoon were talkers. They were, even in their wildest days, the best at beguiling, enticing, drawing in others with their words, and upon meeting, they realized they had finally met their match. Namjoon’s most favorite nights were conversations with Seokjin, picking apart the intricacies of the humanities. Two beasts had become obsessed with learning and gaining a humanity of their own.

Namjoon would have torn them apart otherwise. But the magical blasts had knocked the younger more confrontational vampire out, and Seokjin pleaded with Namjoon to listen to his story. “Taehyung has escaped.” With a start like that, Namjoon couldn’t resist not learning more.

With the sun soon rising and Taehyung out there somewhere, Namjoon had little options left but to invite the wounded vampires into his home.

While you were in another part of the island healing and trying to bridge the peace amongst two headstrong beasts, Namjoon and Seokjin were coming to their own kind of peace, a détente at least for the time being, an opportunity to speak to each other like old times now that they had a bigger enemy then themselves.

---

“Well now I don’t want to.” Jimin crosses his arms, looking away.

You look at him in disbelief. Ugh. This is driving you crazy, there is no time to be like this. ‘Fucking Jimin,’ he really knows how to push your last button. Fuck, you are so over this!

You think about the crying man on the floor, covered in your blood with a broken expression on his face, you think about that sweet boy, crying for his mother. Somewhere deep inside Jimin is that sweet boy who cried.

You look down at your nails with one last hope remaining. You’ll just have to make him drink from you.

You dig your nails into your forearm, scratching your skin as deep as you can. 

But it was Seokjin who lost control. So many days drinking from you, addicted in more ways than one. His eyes turning red, searching out your blood.

Fur envelopes you, Jungkook and Hoseok shielding you with their large canine bodies while Seokjin lunges for you, stopped short by Namjoon’s fangs.

Jimin throws the beast off the older vampire. Jimin, full of rage, tears his sharp nails into Namjoon’s coat. Yoongi screams for Jin, his influential words finally knocking him out of his blood stupor. Then he calls out to the younger vampire, “Jimin, stop.”

But Jimin is already too full of rage to listen to reason. He can’t stand being stuck in this idiot infested house any longer. It’s insufferable, you’re insufferable, the way you stare at him now. Whatever spell that Taehyung inflicted on you has only changed you for the worse! He should have never listened to Seokjin! He’s beginning not to trust him-

Seokjin addresses the two wolves next to you as the younger vampire lashes out. “Take her out of here, hurry!” he yells, attempting with difficulty to retain the younger vampire with Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s help. 

“No!” you scream at the top of your lungs, “You don’t understand!”

A deep growl from Jungkook frightens you into silence. His fangs are around your stomach, only holding you still, not puncturing into you, but it’s terrifying nonetheless as he yanks you backwards, his hind legs digging into the earth.

You cry once outside, unable to pull yourself together. You pull at Jungkook’s fangs, attempting to unlock his jaw from your side and the large beast begins to whimper in anguish at your attempts to flee from him, extinguishing the fight inside you.

Nothing is working! Nothing! It’s hopeless, you’re all going to die, you think, either by Taehyung’s hands or by each others. You cry harder into Jungkook’s fur, who has wrapped his large canine body around yours.

“…what?” You see it from the open door and your body acts on impulse as you claw at the ground, trying to move closer, uncaring if Jungkook’s teeth tear at your skin. Tears dry up as you watch the house start to glow red, brighter than anything you’ve ever seen before. 

No, that’s not quite true. You’ve seen that red glow befo-

-

“We need a plan, a real one,” Yoongi says, dismissing you. “The longer we wait-”

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks. “Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” you murmur to yourself. Jungkook and Jimin glance towards your way.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me…” you whisper. “Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him-”

“There is no telling what he is capable of now,” you say in unison to the leader, finally aware this is not just some strange case of deja vu. All eyes turn to you. Jimin scoffs, just like he did before, pulling on Seokjin’s shoulder. “...I-I want Jimin to bite me!” you yell. 

“No! No way in hell.” “No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!” “Oh I am going to kill you!”

“What the hell are you doing?!” Jimin screams accusingly.

You look around, your gaze stopping on the eldest. “Seokjin, make Jimin bite me!”

“SEOKJIN DOESN’T MAKE ME DO ANYTHING,” Jimin roars. “Seokjin doesn’t make me do anything!” you yell back in unison, a satisfied smirk on your face, pointing directly at Jimin.

“How the fuck are you doing that?” the merman questions.

You rub your temples, trying to make sense of it all. ‘This happened before, why has this happened before? This has to be Tae’s doing!’ “I don’t know, I don’t know, but we’ve already had this conversation, and I-I think, I can’t remember, something must have went wrong...Jimin, you need to bite me, right now!”

“Well…” he clears his throat, looking around as everyone has gone deathly quiet, “now I don’t want to,” Jimin crosses his arms.

Ugh! ‘Fucking Jimin,’ he really knows how to push your last button.  “Listen, you’ve already done it once! Just just do it agai-wait, no, we did this already…something is wrong…” 

“Maybe it’s you!” Jimin accuses. “Taehyung has already gotten in her head, how can we trust her?” he warns the others.

“You’re...right!”

“Y/n?” 

“Jimin is right. I can feel him,” you shudder. “Which is why you need to bite me, because I know for certain, Taehyung doesn’t want you to.” You hold your hand to him.

“And if this is a trick?”

“Ugh, I’m not tricking you! I want to stop Taehyung for you, you idiot!”

‘Idiot’?! How dare you call Jimin an idiot, when you’re the biggest of the idiots in this idiot infested house! “And suddenly you have my best interest at heart?!” Jimin yells back, disgust evident.

Ugh, your head is killing you, and you feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. 

You try to think about everything that has transpired since you met Taehyung, trying to see if you missed anything-

“Wait, wait, wait…ugh, let me go!” you yell at the pack surrounding you. You press yourself against the door, opening it quickly and falling into the sand. 

You look up at the sky, taking a deep breath of fresh air to calm yourself. It’s still daytime, but not for much longer, and you’re scared of what night will bring.

Yoongi is by your side, lifting you up. “Y/n,” you think he is about to dismiss you like he always does, but instead he says, “tell me what I need to do to help you.”

“Yoongi...” You’ve never seen him so sincere before. “Do you think you can use your siren song on Jimin to-”

“I can hear you, pet! It doesn’t work! And I should kill you for even suggesting it.”

“Touch her and I will kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU!”

“Ugh,” you groan, turning your back as the group of stubborn monsters in front of you begin to bicker, deja vu hitting you hard again. “What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to change?” You ask yourself out loud, head in your hands.

Yoongi holds you steady. “Something definitely is up, and I have a feeling it has something to do with this-” Yoongi looks through his pack.

“T-That’s it! Wait! No!” You yell as Yoongi pulls the gem out of his pack, letting it dangle in his hand.

But it’s too late. You can’t stop it, it’s already starting again, the red glow emanating directly from the gem, covering everyone and everything in that same red hue, until that’s all you can see.

‘Y/n, take it.’

You fall back to the ground and clutch your chest, dismissing the words inside your head, closing your eyes tightly as the gem burns brighter.

-

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

Okay, this is it. “Seokjin, you need to bite me.”

“What!?” Jimin yells angrily.

You look into Seokjin’s eyes, silently pleading with him. “The memory pull, it’s going to work now. Please,” you urge, holding out your arm to him as the pack tries still to barricade your body away from the vampires. “Look into my memories and you’ll understand!”

Jimin pulls the eldest back as he advances. “You’re really going to obey her command? Just like that! Taehyung might have already gotten to her, how can we trust her?!”

“You’re right! Jimin is right. I can feel him. Which is why…” you swallow, looking at Jimin, remembering this same conversation said just another way, wondering just how many times you have tried to convince them. “Which is why, you need to bite me.” You move your eyes to Seokjin, staring ahead steadfast. “So you can see the truth!”

“Why?” Jungkook speaks up, voice full of pain. “Why Seokjin out of all-”

You grab the youngest’s face and kiss him abruptly, silencing his worries.

Hoseok’s stares at you, mouth agape. He doesn’t know whether to be furious with you, or satisfied that Jimin and Yoongi both look so furious with you for kissing the youngest shapeshifter.

“Trust me, please,” your hands shake in your desperation, squishing his cheeks as he looks at you in shock and awe. 

“O-Okay,” Jungkook nods.

The eldest vampire sighs and starts to move closer much to Jimin’s astonishment and disgust. You try to push past the pack’s strong bodies. It hurts them to see you try to go to their enemy, but they let you pass.

Jimin crosses his arms, scoffing as the eldest meets you in the center of the room. Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with the biggest of the idiots telling him the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. Suddenly you want Seokjin to bite you now? When you were just throwing yourself at Jimin! Why?! What happened? What’s the reason? You’re so annoying, you’re insufferable, the way you look at Seokjin with so much hope and trust.

Jimin grinds his teeth together in anger, so hard his fangs begin to pierce his bottom lip.

Seokjin puts his hands up, glancing towards the pack leader, meaning no harm before he bends his head closer to your neck.

“Wait!” Jimin speaks up. “Y/n, you wanted me to bite you, didn’t you? So come here then!”

“Jimin, I-”

“Don’t you dare say it,” Jimin cuts Seokjin off. “You didn’t listen to me about Taehyung, about her, and then you made a truce with them without even asking me! You’re lucky I even speak to you at all!” Jimin is furious with Seokjin, he’s beginning not to trust him...

You raise your eyebrows. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” Jimin seethes.

You smile, running past Seokjin. You hold out your wrist to Jimin, looking up at him hopefully. 

Jimin scoffs again, gripping your arm painfully and yanking you closer. The wolf trio begin to growl in anger, baring their fangs.

“I choose where I bite you, pet.”

You try to remain calm as the trio behind you let out low threatening growls. Jimin smirks, spinning you around by your arm, hugging you against his body like a shield and snickering at how angry it makes them.

The pack looks ready to attack. Yoongi begins to step forward in his growing anger.

“No!,” you stop him, “J-Just let him do what he wants,” you mutter.

Jimin smirks. “If it was what I wanted, you would be on your knees with your mouth shut.” He sneers, gripping your chin painfully tight and yanking your head backward. “And your head down, thinking about how stupid you are for walking right into Taehyung’s trap.”

‘Like you did,’ you think, keeping your temper in check.  “I know you’re scared, it’s okay.”

“I am not scared!” he hisses, nails digging into your side. You wince. Namjoon’s growls become louder.

“Namjoon, stop!”

Jimin smirks again. “Yeah, listen to her, dog. Since we are all at this human’s mercy,” he scoffs. “You seem to know so much about what happens next, so tell me, is it going all according to your little plan?” He presses his body against yours, holding you tightly.

“You like this, don’t you?” he whispers in your ear, obscenely grinding himself against your backside. Jimin rests his chin on your shoulder, arm still secure around your waist, smirking, intent on drawing this out for everyone involved, “them watching.” His hand grabs your breast roughly. 

Your eyes meet Yoongi’s eyes, dark with anger, and you shut them in shame.

You breathe through your nose as he fondles you for everyone to see, letting out short breaths when he rests his hand over your throat, choosing to submit in hopes he’ll eventually do what you want.

Jimin’s fangs scrape across your shoulder as he revels in the intoxicating feeling of power he has over you and everyone else, finally feeling better about his new situation. He breathes in the anger emanating from everyone in the room, inhaling your sweet desperation most of all.

His fangs scratch the surface of you, up the sensitive skin of your neck until you bleed.

Seokjin drops to his knees, panting heavily, addicted to your blood in more ways than one. Jimin stops, looking over to the older vampire. “I’m fine,” Seokjin pants. “I’m fine.”

Jimin looks coldly down at him, how disgraceful that he’s let you affect him so much. That’s what he gets for drinking from you all the time, for not letting Jimin! He licks the blood off your neck and you shudder. Jimin moans loudly, tasting your blood again finally.

The pack looks ready to kill, they bare their fangs, the restraint in their growls long gone.

“I’m sure they can all smell you from here, I can,” Jimin whispers in your ear, hand pressing down on your lower stomach, taunting you, “You’ve learned to be a good little pet, hmm? Here’s your reward.” Jimin presses his fangs into the column of your neck, directly on your pulse.

“What the hell?” the merman mumbles. There is something glowing in Yoongi’s pack. He fumbles with the latch to inspect it. Yoongi yanks out the red glowing gem, confusion evident on his face.

Oh no. You can feel it again. A familiar voice starts to call out to you. If it wasn’t for the pain in your neck keeping you present, you surely would have lost control.

You clutch your chest as the gem burns brighter. “Jimin! You-”

-

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?” Jimin roars, advancing on you and the pack.

“You saw– You know–” you look at Jimin in disbelief. You reflexively cover your throat, the punctures are gone, but your heartbeat is still fluttering. “It wasn’t me!” you yell back.

The younger vampire yanks himself away from Jin’s protective hand. “Taehyung…” Jimin growls. “And you!” He points an accusing finger at the merman. “Give me that gem in your pack right now!”

“How did you know about that?” Yoongi glares at the younger vampire.

He scoffs, “I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“Well then fuck off,” Yoongi spits out.

Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with– ‘Wait,’ He feels it, he can’t explain it, but it’s there, all around him, an inevitability that he can’t control, and it pisses him off! Jimin spins around, baring his fangs, claws ready to strike. 

The group watches Jimin spin around angrily like a confused dog chasing its tail.

“See,” you glare at Jimin, “See how annoying it is!”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Taehyung. The gem is his. And it seems he’s still using it somehow.” Jimin reasons, looking around at the familiar scene. “Give it, we need to destroy it,” Jimin holds out his hand impatiently. “DAMMIT YOONGI! We don’t have time for this!”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” you huff.

The merman holds onto his pack defensively. He doesn’t trust Jimin, but he knows they have to work together to stop Taehyung. Jimin is untrustworthy, but Jimin is powerful, more than he even realizes. So Yoongi holds his tongue and relents. 

You clutch your head in your hands. It’s pounding more than ever, and you feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. “Get it away from me!” you cry out. 

You press yourself against the door, opening it quickly and falling in the sand. Jungkook and Hoseok follow you out, worried for your safety and your quickly declining state of mind.

Jimin scoffs again. Pathetic, he thinks. Humans are scared of their own shadows. He turns his attention on the merman, waiting impatiently. He tries to ignore how close the others are to him as the men huddle around to look at the necklace. 

Jimin holds the gem in his hand, inspecting it. The weight of it in his palm is heavy. He touches the smooth rock, the gem itself is small, but the energy surrounding it is immense, a familiar power the vampire can’t quite put his finger on. ‘Why isn’t it glowing?’ he thinks, and as soon as the thought enters his mind a slow bright red light begins to emanate around the gem. 

“What’s going on?” The pack leader questions, staring at the gem, ready to strike anything that appears. 

“I don’t know.” Jimin doesn’t know how to stop it, but he wishes for whatever is happening to halt.

And as soon as the thought entered his mind the glow begins to recede back into the gem.

“Jimin, you should hold onto that necklace for now.” Seokjin speaks.

Jimin looks up and the expression on Seokjin’s face surprises the younger vampire. He’s seen that hardened look before from Seokjin, in moments when the older vampire begins to feel sentimental. Most recently, the night you came to them. Jimin never questioned it before, but now he wants to, he wants to know all the secrets Seokjin is keeping from him. Jimin is beginning not to trust him-

He grabs the eldest’s shirt collar, yanking him close. “You know what this is?”

Seokjin remains unaffected by Jimin’s outburst, covering Jimin’s hand with his own. “Now that I’ve looked at it up close, yes, I’ve seen it before. I believe, that necklace,” he sighs, “used to be yours. A long time ago, I saw you wear it. Or something very similar,” he swallows.

But before you, Jimin has never seen this necklace before in his life! He stares at the gem. That familiarity he feels can’t be– no, that feeling is just like the other moments of deja vu he has been experiencing, it’s not because…is it? Does this necklace belong to him?

You stare at the wolves’ den, refusing to move any closer. Nothing has happened yet, there is no red glow, and no immediate danger, but you feel at any moment everything could change. You look up at the sky, it’s still daytime, but not for much longer, and you’re worried-

“Y/n?” Hoseok shakes you when you don’t respond.

“Hoseok…” You wonder how many times this moment has repeated itself. Has Hoseok looked at you like this before, his care for you evident in his soft gaze? You try to remember and make sense of what is real. “That necklace, Taehyung used it to escape. I-I don’t know how, I don’t know why. I– Ahhh!”

Your nails dig into your scalp as you desperately try to claw away at the pain. The pain is radiating at your temples, just behind your eyes, in the back of your head, behind your ear-

“Hey, y/n, hey!” Hoseok holds your trembling body, patting your cheek, reminded of the moment he found you on the beach. Your eyes stare at the sky, far away, like you’re lost in your head, unable to hear him.

“W-What’s happening to her?!” Jungkook whimpers. You just came back to him and now he fears he might lose you completely.

Hoseok picks you up into his arms, holding you securely to him. “I don’t know, Namjoon will know. I’m taking her back inside.”

You want to tell him no, you want to tell him to wait, you don’t want to go back in, but you can’t find the energy to open your mouth to speak the words. Your body is betraying you, your vision starts to cloud, and you realize darkness is coming for you, even with the sun still high up in sky. You wish more than ever, you could start over again-

-

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“Oh,” you groan, falling forward, unable to hold yourself up. The youngest of the pack wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his embrace before your knees hit the ground.

Jimin looks around, the gem still heavy in his palm. “The necklace,” he murmurs. It didn’t glow red this time and yet-

“Jimin!” The merman hisses, glaring at the vampire who has somehow taken the gem from Yoongi without him noticing, “Don’t move.”

Jimin’s body, and mind, suddenly feel sluggish. It lasts only a moment before the vampire is shaking himself out of the merman’s mind control. Jimin can’t help but laugh at his weak attempt. 

“DON’T MOVE,” Yoongi bellows, his words echoing throughout the wolves’ den, and everyone, including Jimin, freezes.

“What are you doing, Yoongi?!” Namjoon grunts, stuck in place by the merman’s words.

“I don’t know how, but he stole that from me, from my pack.” The merman walks with purpose while Jimin struggles to move. 

Your eyes go wide when you notice what’s happened. “It’s not his fault,” you mumble, glancing at Namjoon, your eyes and mouth the only part of you able to move, “I think...w-we’re stuck in a time loop.”

“A w-what?” Hoseok grunts, trying with all his might to turn his head.

“W-Well...it’s a lot t-to explain and you’ll probably forget it all anyways,” you whine.

Namjoon raises his brow. He can only slightly move his neck now, and struggles to turn his head to look at you. “Perhaps you should explain anyways. Now.” His tone is serious, potentially menacing if you were being honest.

“I know it sounds crazy, and I know you don’t want him to, shit, what haven't I explained to you yet? Jimin hasn’t actually bitten me yet, well, technically not yet, he has, but it was before I came back, from the future, into now-another time thing.” You start to remember clearly now, though it seems to be still very hard to explain, “Anyways, I know about Jimin’s past! And everything, and-”

“Is she making sense to you?” Hoseok mutters.

“Oh you’re so lucky we haven’t had this conversation before or I would be really blowing your mind,” you grunt.

Jimin’s arms jerk backwards as he fights the merman’s impressive mind control. “It’s mine! Give it back!” Jimin hisses as Yoongi plucks the gem out of the vampire’s hand mere seconds before Jimin regains control of himself again.

“Jimin, we don’t have the time,” you groan, your limbs finally moving again. “Jimin!” you yell, pulling the vampire’s attention away before he attacks the merman in his anger. 

You struggle in Jungkook’s arms, holding out your wrist to Jimin hopefully. “You know what you have to do, before it happens again!” 

“No!” Jungkook barks, lifting you off your feet to end your advance. 

Jimin exhales. This is insufferable, you’re insufferable, you’re, fuck– It’s happening again. He bares his fangs, letting his anger simmer over this constant deja vu. 

“Wait! Let me see it, that necklace,” Seokjin steps forward curiously.

Yoongi throws his arm backwards out of the vampire’s reach, the gold chain accidentally hitting your outstretched hand.

The gem touching your finger.

It felt like just a graze, so quickly it couldn’t have been longer than a second. Yet you felt it through your whole body.

And then pulling right behind your ear. 

And finally you understood as the brightest flash of red light quickly comes and goes. You hear his voice again, commanding you to do something else, something horrible...

You want to tell them all to run, to escape, but the only words your lips can speak are-

“Taehyung, come in.”

The door shatters, knocking everyone inside to the ground.

The back of your ear feels like it’s on fire and like you summoned the devil himself, Taehyung appears behind you, lifting you up. “Ahh princess, now where did you put my jewel?”

You stand paralyzed by fear, as if gravity chained your limbs to your body.

“Taehyung, leave her alone!” Jungkook roars, and he somehow looks more imposing than the pack leader himself.

Taehyung laughs, looking around incredulously at the monsters surrounding him. 

“I’m saving her from you!” He pulls you close and despite your fear, you gravitate to him. It reminds you of Yoongi’s siren song, but more painful, dark, like ropes around your limbs, a noose around your throat. “You would rather use her, draining her life away because you want a pretty pet-” he looks at Seokjin, “-or keep her here on this island, chained like a prisoner, like you did to me! You just can’t see her potential!”

“You...betrayed Jimin...this is all your fault,” you grunt, barely able to speak the words out loud. 

Taehyung looks at you, eyes softening. “Your loyalty to my brother is sweet. After everything they did to you. You really are perfect. I knew it when I first met you, we were fated to meet. You were the one who was going to save me, and now I can save you.” He holds you close, embracing you how he always wanted to, no chains or shackles between you anymore. “You saw Jimin’s story and believed him. I’ll show you mine, y/n. You’ll see once and for all.”

Yoongi’s nose is bleeding from the explosion. He has the gem hidden in his palm. He doesn’t quite understand how Taehyung appeared so suddenly, or what the gem has to do with it, but he figures no good will come from Taehyung having it, and he intends to risk everything to keep it away from Taehyung. 

He looks at your pain stricken expression and suddenly realizes, no, he can’t risk everything.

“They should have cut off your hands,” Yoongi mutters, wiping away the dried blood from under his nose and standing up. “Thy were too nice to you. When I defeat you I’ll make sure your next cell is underground and twice as small,” the merman tries to goad Taehyung away from you.

“Monster,” Taehyung frowns. “Do you know how many humans he has killed, y/n? How many they’ve all killed? Have I ever killed anyone!” he yells.

“You were going to kill Seokjin!” Jimin argues.

“Seokjin is evil!” he yells back. “And not a human.”

“Okay, Taehyung, you want retribution, we’re all here now. So let y/n go, can’t you see how scared she is?” Namjoon questions, crouching low in fighting stance. His calmness is even more menacing than his anger, you think.

“She doesn’t want me to let her go,” Taehyung smiles, his chin pressing into your shoulder as he continues to hug you close. “Tell them you want to be with me.”

“I want to be with Taehyung,” you cry out, terrified how the words left your lips so quickly, of the way your control is slipping away.

“See, she’s my destiny.” He grins, triumph dripping from his words.

No, no, no. You clutch your chest, where the pain emanates the most, right over your heart.

“Oh, that’s where it went.” Taehyung sighs, petting your head softly. “I’m sorry, one of my attacks must have hit you hard. Let’s go back, out of reach this time. Now, where is my necklace? Tell me, y/n.”

Yoongi, Yoongi has it. It’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. Yoongi.

You clench your jaw so tight your teeth begin to hurt. “Who took it?” he asks sweetly.

“Yoongi...” You begin to cry. “Please don’t hurt him!”

The merman speaks up, “Oh, he won’t hurt me.”

“You haven’t changed at all, so arrogant, acting like you’re better than everyone else!” Taehyung says, staring at Yoongi’s closed fist. He flicks his wrist over, fingers pulling at the air. 

A glowing red light starts emanating from Yoongi’s palm, an inescapable power ready to burst from the tiny gem, red streaks of light between his fingers cut through the wolf’s den, knocking back anything it touches.

Yoongi yells in pain, but he refuses to let go of the necklace. 

Unlike the others, when the red light hits Taehyung, he can easily redirect it with his hand, and his beam hits Seokjin, knocking the vampire right in the chest.

You see singes across the eldest vampire’s body, his clothes tattered and deep burn scars across his skin. Yoongi’s hand looks charred too, he yells and doubles over in pain, still fighting to hold onto the necklace. The others are fast, dodging the attacks, but how long can they last? 

Hoseok is hit next, he turns into a wolf instantly, charging towards you. Namjoon runs in to attack Taehyung, who shifts your body in front of the leader. 

The wolves are trying so hard to save you from Taehyung, it breaks your heart to witness the pain they are going through. How can you save them? Protect them? You feel so useless, so human and fragile. A mere pawn in a game played between kings.

If only there was a way to restart this day again.

“Y/n, don’t,” Taehyung whispers in your ear.

The wolves are too worried for your safety to use their full force, something Taehyung uses to his full advantage as he moves closer to the merman still fighting to hold onto the gem.

Jimin doesn’t care about your safety. He crashes into both of you.

You feel the weight of both men on top of you, suffocating you as Taehyung covers your body with his to take the brunt of the vampire’s wild attacks.

However, Taehyung’s physical strength seems to be unmatched, he throws the vampire as if Jimin weighed nothing with only one arm, the other holding your wrist so you can’t get away.

He moves closer to the struggling merman.

This can’t be happening, it can’t end this way, after everything you’ve been through.

Perhaps it was how close to victory Taehyung had been, so close he was only thinking about the outcome of his winning, the great future ahead of him. He was distracted just enough, and the reigns he had held over you loosened just a bit. It cleared your mind just enough, made you hope, wish for help to come for Yoongi and the others.

Your wish fluttered inside you like a heartbeat, pulling you, and this time, pulling everyone…

Through time…

To a place where the merman had an advantage. Your wish was granted.

The thumping receded and seawater filled every space around you suddenly. You were underwater, deep in the sea. You looked around and saw red and blue flashes of light, the shadows of the beast’s bodies around you, blood like red ribbons leaving their wounds. You slowly kick towards the sky.

How deep are you? You don’t know if you can make it to get in air in time.

You scream, the sound muffled underwater, when fingers reach for your hair, jerking your head down.

It’s Jimin. By the look in his eyes you think he might drain you right here, let you drown in a sea of blood, but he reaches for your hand instead and pulls you to the surface at inhuman speed. 

Spluttering, you gasp in air as the ocean lights up the night with streaks of power flashing under water.

“You’re coming with me,” he grunts, dragging your body back to land.

“Yoongi! The others!”

“Hold your breath!” Jimin pulls you back under when Taehyung resurfaces.

You inhale in quickly. You see the sparkling merman’s tail reflecting under water as he attacks Taehyung again.

Red light explodes underwater. Pulsing through the ocean, knocking you back into Jimin. He pulls you away from the fighting, closer to shore until you can stand above water.

You try to keep up, but the night waves crash into your body knocking you off your feet. Jimin drops you into shallow water. You gasp for breath while he looks over you. It reminded you of when you first met him, the way his body is over yours. But his eyes aren’t the same, there’s no hatred in them like before, Jimin looks lost, Jimin looks…sad.

He grabs the front of your dress and rips it, exposing your cleavage. Your arms cover your chest and he yanks those away too. You almost scream, but he doesn’t do anything but look at you. Then his finger traces the scars on your chest, making you shudder. The scar lines form a deep v across your chest, connecting around your neck.

“It was you.” He grips your neck, startling you. “Fix it. Now!”

Moonlight is speckling the ocean’s surface. The water calmer than usual. “Take us back to before Taehyung arrived. Before…” he shudders, looking out at the ocean, up towards the moon angrily. “This is your fault.” Jimin lunges for you, his claws pulled quickly away by Jungkook rushing to your side. Jungkook picks up your exhausted body, wading deeper in the water, glaring at the vampire. “Let’s go.”

“Follow me.” Yoongi yells, further out.

When you reach Yoongi, the youngest reluctantly hands you to him. “Where’s Taehyung?”

“He…took the necklace,” Yoongi says bitterly. “Ready?”

You look at the dark water all around you. “W-Where are we going?”

“My home.”

-

Yoongi swims down to the sea floor. You hold his hand, let the current and his strong fin lead you to the furthest depths of the ocean.

There’s no light, only the faint sparkling reflection of Yoongi’s tail is visible to your human eyes.

Your feet touch the sandy floor. The pain in your ears lessens the longer Yoongi breathes air into you. It’s an odd feeling, walking the sea floor, a place certainly no other living human could walk alone.

‘Jin.’ Your body stiffens in fright. You see the vampire, lying suspended upon the ocean floor. It frightens you how dead he looks, floating there, but for as long as you’ve known him, Jin has always been dead, hasn't he? Jimin passes, hooking Seokjin’s floating arm over his shoulder and pulling the vampire along.

You reach an underwater cave and swim inside. It’s tunnels are vast. The coral crevices hold things, some are man-made items, some magical.

The coral of the cave winds around, creating tunnels that are compact, walls that are cramped together. It’s dark and lonely inside, there is no light, no warmth. Is this where Yoongi stayed? It makes you feel sorry for the merman, makes you want to fill his life with warmth. He swims around quickly pulling things from inside the pockets of coral.

It’s impressive how the wolves can hold their breath, but even at this depth for so long they are having trouble. Even you are almost out of the air Yoongi gave you.

The merman swims to the cave’s bottom. There’s a purple wooden door situated at the cave floor with a spoked handle. The color reminds you of the one in Seokjin’s office. He begins to turn the vault handle quickly, unlocking the door. You watch, holding your body against one of the coral walls, making sure you don't float away. 

You begin to choke on water. The door opens finally and the others rush inside, quickly escaping down into the depths. Yoongi finds you, kissing you. Slowly, taking his time now. 

Submerged in the water, floating, he became the only thing that grounded you. You wish you could speak underwater and tell him how sorry you were for letting Taehyung inside, for causing this all to happen. You kept your lips pressed to his, hoping to convey how apologetic you felt. Yoongi hugs you close and dives into the vault.

You break the surface of the water, somehow right side up now. You wipe the water away from your face as Yoongi holds you to him. You look around the small cave, a part of the underground cave system inside the island. You look down at your bodies still submerged in the water, you should be upside down. How is that possible?

It never ceases to amaze you, the magicalness of this place.

“How is he?” you call out.

“I’ve seen better days.” The vampire in question grunts. Seokjin has definitely seen better days, the usually put together vampire is the most beaten you’ve ever seen him, lying on the cave floor unable to move.

“Jin, would it help?” you offer your wrist to him. You were the only human here.

Seokjin swallows, “Yes.”

“Let me help him,” you beg the others. Namjoon lifts you out of the cave pool. Everyone looks so beaten they don't fight you, they stay silent as you make your way to Seokjin.

“Are you sure, Dove?” he grunts.

You nod, lying against him, finally letting your tired muscles relax. Seokjin drank from you countless of times before, what’s one more?

---

Jimin breaks Seokjin’s jade statue, smashing it to pieces.

“Get away from me!” he screams, “w-who are you?!”

You see Seokjin and Namjoon standing next to him. And you see Hoseok. You see Taehyung.

“Is it normal to forget?” Taehyung asks, watching Jimin curiously.

“No…no,” Seokjin swallows. Had Seokjin really been too late to save Jimin?

Jimin screams and screams, clawing at his throat. It’s dry and itchy, he feels like he’s burning from the inside out. “Stop. Stop it!” The pain won’t stop!

“He needs blood,” Hoseok says, his tone urgent and worried.

“If we bring someone to the island, he’s not going to be able to control himself.”

“I’ll find someone no one will miss,” Hoseok suggests.

“No, it’s still a life.” Namjoon interjects, watching the display, clenching his jaw when Jimin screams again.

“And what about Jimin?!” Hoseok argues. “What about his life?!” You can feel his anger, you feel it too within Seokjin.

“If it’s someone who deserves it, someone bad?” Taehyung speaks up, wincing as he watches his friend writhe in pain.

“Let’s go hunt one last time, old friend,” Seokjin mumbles, unable to look Namjoon in the eyes, watching instead the horrible state Jimin is in.

“Okay, okay.”

It was an easier find than they had thought. During a dark club night, the music boomed as a regular flirted with a young woman. Upon entering the club, Namjoon and Seokjin noticed all the tell tale signs immediately, the signs of a predator..

While Namjoon bumped into the couple, and riled up the man by cozying up to his unsuspecting victim, Seokjin quickly switched their drinks, the one the man had spiked for his date switched with his clean one. While the drug worked its magic, you looked around the club, listening to old music. You watched the bodies on the dance floor move together in almost one fluid motion. You missed it, realizing how long it’s been since you’ve had that kind of fun. Your heart raced as the beat of the song quickened, as urgency ran through the vampire’s cold veins instead of blood. You want to dance. You want to kill that man. You want to save Jimin. Complicated emotions filter through Seokjin and into you.

Your mouth goes slack as you press your body closer, your hands fisting Seokjin’s tattered shirt. “You’re taking too much!” Namjoon barks. 

“I’m sorry.” Seokjin licks your wounds clean as your vision goes hazy and you slump against him. No, you wanted to see more, to listen to more-

---

“Where are you, sweetheart?”

“Taehyung?”

Taehyung covers your cheek with his hand. “Tell me where you are so I can find you, get you away from them.”

“No! You stay away from them!”

Taehyung’s arms cage you in, his body above yours. “Y/n, please,” he begs, lowering himself over you. “I can leave the island now, but I don't want to go, not without you.” He wraps his arms around your body, hugging you close to him in a suffocating embrace. “Please come with me, I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Despite everything, you feel sorry for him as he shakes against you.

No, no, no! He’s the same man who tried to betray Seokjin. What would he have done to Jimin if he had succeeded? What is he going to do to you? You press against his shoulders, trying to push him off of you. Taehyung covers your lips with his own, lessening your resolve.

His lips work a different kind of magic, he presses his tongue inside your mouth, runs it over your own, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. You grip his shoulders, unsure whether to push him away or closer. He kisses you for so long you wonder how he hasn’t broken away to take a breath, you wonder why you don’t have the need to either.

You gasp when Taehyung decides to move lower down your body, his lips licking across your neck. By now, he’s made sure to keep you locked to him, holding onto both your wrists so you can’t push against him. Even when he shifts his digits and intertwines your fingers, he keeps his weight heavy on you.

“It’s not fair, I can only have you in my dreams like this,” he chuckles against your skin. “Please be with me. Together we can explore the whole world, do whatever we want.” Taehyung was so excited to see all the new technology you had described to him during your long visits. He wants to experience it all with you.

You take in a ragged breath, suppressing a moan every time he sucks and rolls his tongue over your skin. “Promise me you won’t hurt them.”

“I promise.”

You don’t believe him.

You can’t believe him.

It feels like a lie, it all feels like a lie.

“Where are you?”

“In a cave.”

“There are thousands of caves on the island, do you know where?”

“I d-don’t know.”

It’s true you don't know, but there are words you could use to describe the cave. You could tell Taehyung how you got there, about Yoongi’s magical door. But you bite those words down, hiding the whole truth.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find you.” He rests his forehead against yours, runs his thumb over your kiss bitten lips. He can't wait to have you, to mark you, to make you like him.

You touch the necklace dangling from Taehyung’s neck, and he rips your hand away, gripping your wrist so tightly you can feel the pressure in your bones.

Fear trickles down your spine and catches in your throat once you realize how entangled you are to him, how easily he could hurt you if he wanted to. The Taehyung you knew had been so unthreatening, like a lonely puppy tied to a tree, only wanting attention.

The shackles took away any threatening aura, you only ever felt safe with him, you hadn't yet known what he was capable of...

Taehyung feels your heart beat jumping against his lips. “You’re scared of me, why?” he frowns. “Have I ever given you a reason to believe I would ever hurt you? Jimin hurt you, Seokjin hurt you,” he adds.

You swallow, unable to answer him. He’s right.

“If you hated Seokjin so much...why did you want to become like him?”

Taehyung holds you loosely now, smiling softly. “You know...Namjoon, Hoseok, Jungkook, their powers slow their aging, but one day, they’re going to grow old, they’re going to grow weak. They’re going to die,” he hums.

“T-That’s no excuse-”

“Sometimes we have to lose everything to gain everything.”

“Is that what you told Jimin before you took everything from him?!”

“Seokjin’s affliction really did rub off on you. What will you say when you make him remember and he still wants to rip your throat out?”

You swallow, silenced by his words.

“Tell me where you are so I can protect you,” he presses his lips upon the column of your neck tenderly.

“T-The cave-”

“Yes?” Taehyung runs his tongue along your throat, enjoying the way you tremble against him.

“-a d-door-”

His hands knead your side, up your body, gripping your mounds, caressing your suppleness.

“A door? Invite me in then, sweetheart.”

Your fingers tangle his hair, pulling him closer to you. Then run down his neck, slipping under his necklace.

You yank the gold chain, screaming.

---

“You’re awake,” Jungkook says happily. You’re lying nestled in between bodies, warm in the otherwise cold and dark cave. “Are y-you okay?”

You close your eyes, calming down, shaking your head, worried your words won’t be your own.

Namjoon holds your hand, “Y/n, can you tell us anything about what happened to the watch I gave you?”

Your hand cups your neck, where Seokjin’s bite is now healed over. “T-Taehyung, he said he would ‘fix’ the watch for me. He must have, because...it must have been, three months ago? I found that red amulet, it was from Seokjin’s shop, it appeared in my hand and then I heard Taehyung’s voice in my head, and…and I-I had no control...” You remember it clearly now, “The watch took me back in time and broke as soon as I used it.”

You look down at your hands. “But I still had the one I hadn’t used yet, from this time…” you say, absentmindedly touching your collarbone out of reflex. “When the explosion happened, I-I don’t know, I-I lost them.” Namjoon inspects your neck, gently adjusting the torn fabric of your dress.

He looks over his shoulder, where the merman lazily swims in the cave pool. “Yoongi?” he asks. 

“The stronger the magic, the more uncontrollable it becomes. If Taehyung’s attack hit her...and the watch…anything could be possible.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Does that human brain of yours not work at all anymore?” Hoseok complains, sitting at the top of your head, looking down at you with crossed arms. “The watch’s magic, it’s inside you.”

“...what,” you ask horrified. You trace the scars across your chest, running up your clavicle and around your neck.

“You were trying to protect yourself from Taehyung,” Yoongi says knowingly. “You took us forward in time.”

Yoongi had noticed the stronger tides, looked up at the moon, and realized the phase had shifted 4 days ahead.

But how could that be? Then when he mentioned it to the others, they all realized…

“I-I can’t control it.”

“And we’re not even sure what it does to her when she uses it,” Hoseok says, concerned, thinking the worst. There is no telling what will happen to you in the end, are you losing hours off your life? Days? 

“Where’s Jimin?”

“Cooling off, taking a late night swim.” Seokjin sighs. “Dove, what happened between you and Jimin in this future of yours that makes you think he will be so cooperative?”

It felt wrong, telling his story, intimate memories that he didn’t even have the chance to see yet. “His past…”

“You know his whole past?” Hoseok asks. You nod. “And you trust him? After everything you know?”

“You don’t know what he’s been through! Taehyung-”

“They worked together to betray us all,” Hoseok scoffed.

You shake your head. “Taehyung knew Jimin before he knew you, Hoseok.” You’ve seen enough of their memories together to see how protective Hoseok had been over Taehyung. But the secrets Jimin and Taehyung had kept weren’t even knowledgeable to Jimin anymore.

“No-”

“Yes.”

“Did you know about this?” Hoseok turns to his pack leader. 

He shakes his head no, “They acted like strangers. Did you know?” Namjoon turns to Seokjin.

“He didn’t speak much of his childhood, even when he was human.” Seokjin hums, “The few memories of his childhood I pulled did not have any indication they knew each other. They had only become close after Jimin was turned.”

“No, they were always close.” you say, sure of yourself. “I can’t prove it, yet, but I don’t think what happened was an accident,” you look at Hoseok. “It wasn’t your fault you lost control, Hoseok.”

Hoseok's eyes start to shine in the shadows of the cave as tears well up. “No,” he says in disbelief. It was his fault. He turned Taehyung into a beast like him, and he’s never forgiven himself because of it.

He shakes his head, unable to let your words really hit him.

“Well, we can only learn the whole truth from Jimin himself. Help me this time, please?”

---

Jimin returns later than usual, right before sunrise, his mind no less at ease.

-

“Well, it almost worked last time.” 

-

Has Seokjin been drinking from you this whole time?! Jimin scoffs, settling himself away from you and the others. 

Seokjin does it messily, letting the blood drip down your shoulder, covering your chest in the red liquid.

You let a soft whimper escape your lips, moaning. Seokjin’s hand moves from your hip to resting between your legs

“Are you going to be doing that all day?!” Jimin barks, his words echoing in the small cave.

“You haven’t drank in a while, brother. Come drink.” Jimin swallows hard, smelling your blood, the sweet iron scent fills the cave. He remembers the previous time loop, the taste of your blood still a strong memory. It never happened, he hasn’t really tasted you, yet that’s now all he can think about. He remembers it distantly like a dream. Or rather a nightmare, how can you possibly be this annoying to him without even trying? Jimin silently seethes as his throat becomes itchier and drier.

Jimin looks over at the wolves, who seem to be minding their own business. There is no way they are not affected by this...lewd display! He narrows his eyes on Hoseok, the jealous one, who sits crossed-legged and crossed-arms, eyes closed and jaw clenched.

-

“You’re joking?”

“No, I saw them do it before with other girls,” you mutter, unable to meet Hoseok's eyes, “in Seokjin’s memories.”

-

Jungkook rests his head against the pack leader’s shoulder, shaking his legs to a song in his head he is using to distract himself, and Namjoon acts completely unaffected. Jimin scoffs, Namjoon sure has the best poker face, but Jimin knows this is bothering the pack. They probably finally figured out they’re weaker ones amongst them, Jimin thinks.

“Well if you won’t, then I will.” Namjoon speaks up.

Namjoon pulls your leg, pulling you closer to him as he crawls over you. His strong hands press your legs open so he can settle in between them.

“You know my kind bites too. We don’t do it to suck blood, our bite is different. But, I wouldn’t mind eating you up,” Namjoon teases, his deep voice even deeper in his gruffness.

You know this is just an act, but your heart escalates at the thought, remembering the younger werewolf acting so brazenly. Devious suits Namjoon so well, the roughness in his nature is so attractive.

Jimin grits his teeth at such a revolting thought.

“You’re just going to let him put his filthy paws all over her? You’re going to hand her over just like that?”

“I haven’t let her go.” Seokjin caresses your temples, smearing blood across your face. “We used to do this all the time. I’ve gotten used to Namjoon’s scent.”

Jimin looks away, looking for the merman, someone else he can yell at.

“Joon, wait. Jimin, did you want to drink from me instead?”

“No thanks,” Jimin hisses.

You look back at Namjoon. Seokjin lifts your hand to his mouth, biting down on the fleshy part of your palm. It hurts, he is usually better at making the pain feel pleasurable, but his objective isn’t your pleasure, it’s to cause maximum blood flow, to make you cry out in pain, knowing your whimpers will entice Jimin the most.

Namjoon’s lets his teeth scrape across your thigh. “Shh little Dove.” He uses the pet name Seokjin gave you. “Don’t cry, I’ll make you sing.”

It’s so hot in this goddamn cave. The smell of everyone’s arousal is assaulting, inescapable.

“My turn next,” Hoseok calls out.

“I’m going to mark her as my mate,” Jungkook growls, eyes darkened at the sight of you writhing in pleasure and pain.

Jimin has had it. He has had to endure being in their company for this long, but now the dogs want to defile what is his? Yes, you are his and Seokjin’s! They paid fairly for you, you would be dead if it were not for them. You are theirs! You are his. And you are the only human left on this damned island, Jimin had searched all night for any signs of life to no avail.

“I’m going to rip out your teeth,” Jimin threatens lowly.

“Did you say something?” Hoseok says flippantly.

“You don’t think I know what you’re all doing?”

You look between yourselves in silence.

“You’re just giving up! Taehyung really turned you into a bunch of cowardly dogs. You’re just gonna stay in this cave like a bunch of animals in heat while Taehyung does god knows what!?”

You continue to look between yourselves in silence.

He points at you. “She said if I bit her, we could stop Taehyung!” He yanks you to your feet so hard you feel the whiplash in your bones. “Isn’t that right? SO WHY ARE YOU WASTING YOUR PRECIOUS TIME WITH THEM?!” Jimin yells so loud his words echo over and over again.

You blink. “You’re right, Jimin.”

Jimin moves behind you, tilting your head. He licks the old blood off your shoulder, suppressing a groan at the taste. “If this doesn’t work-” he growls.

“It will.”

“Then I wont stop until it does.” All your blood will be Jimin’s one way or another.

He licks his lips before sinking his teeth into the column of your neck.

---

Just like that, you and Jimin revisit his bedroom, a memory you both shared, your past and his future had Taehyung’s plan not have worked.

-

Jimin roars, pulling away. Your body spasms with too much blood loss. Jimin looks down, your blood covering his body, his pants undone. How is he in bed with you? He was just in the merman’s cave, drinking your blood.

No, he is in the merman’s cave. This is a memory.

Jimin remembers. 

He gently turns your body over. Your breathing is ragged, strained, your eyes try to focus on the vampire above you.

Now you remember, it was the first time Jimin looked at you without hatred in his eyes. Tearing the flesh from his arm, he puts the wound over your mouth and you drink until your body relaxes. Then cautiously, Jimin lowers himself over you again, ready to see more.

---

Jin steps closer, followed by the rest of the men. 

Was Jimin still drinking from you?

Neither of you made any movement.

You both fell to your knees with Jimin’s fangs deep in your neck, your eyes glazed over and out of focus. 

“What happened?” Namjoon whispers to the eldest vampire. He wasn’t quite sure, neither of you were responsive, both lost in your heads. 

“Little Dove?”

---

I am so excited to write some backstory finally!!! Are you excited for the next chapter?

[vamp1reheart]

•°Shadow of light°• 01

Notices: This book contains violence, explicit sexual content, verbal and non-verbal abuse, war scenarios, Conflicts, depression and suicide, toxic relationships, obsessive themes, and others... This book is a Taehyung x female reader fanfic, However, I do not own BTS and I have no intention of offending anyone with this story!

Note: Initially this book was not supposed to become a fanfic, it is an original book of mine that is still being created. Turning this book into a Taehyung fanfic was a request from a friend of mine, so I hope you like it. I might be able to post the original version of the book, but it will all depend on how people react to this fanfic (the book is a bit different from the fanfic, don't worry ;)

Preview:"She was known as the sun, always with her bright smile and her admirable kindness."

"He was known as the moon, cold, dark and in his coat were the most precious stones."

"But the moon does not shine without the light of the Sun, and that is something he did not count on."

Footsteps echo through the large, dark, cold castle. Sara knew exactly who they belonged to, unlike the other footsteps, these were smaller and lively. Not like ogres, as Sara used to call them.

His suspicions are confirmed when two little girls enter the large room he was in.

"Your Sara, can you tell us the story again?"

They didn't need to specify the story, they only knew one, and honestly Sara already thought that was a lot.

The court would kill her if they found out she was teaching fairy tales to children.

Sara accepts, she closes the big, heavy door to the dark room and asks the girls to sit down.

Then seeing their anxious faces, Sara begins...

"This is the history never told, the history that should never be told...that's why we'll keep it a secret!"

Sara says in a low tone, and the children in front of her silently nod and settle in to listen to her History.

"She was known as the sun, always with her bright smile and her admirable kindness."

"But he was known as the moon, cold, dark and his clothes had the most precious stones."

Sara looks into the innocent eyes of the two children in front of her. She would never tell the real story, She couldn't end the dream of true love.

But she and everyone who knows the true story knows the dangers it carries.

The white snow sank beneath his hurried footsteps.

His lungs burned painfully as he tried to turn the cold air into warm air.

She was running...

But whose?

From the one who swore he was the only one worth it.

Through the great trees she hears his dangerous voice.

"Why are you running?! You know it's true!..."

The voice was loud within the silent forest, she didn't know where it came from, she didn't know if he was close, but she had to keep going.

"My love, please! Don't break my heart with your selfishness!"

"(Y/N)!"

I look up from the book I'm reading to look at my aunt.

She comes towards me in a hurry.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to read! Especially here."

She speaks practically in a whisper, but from her tone, I know she's angry.

She is referring to the tree I usually stay under, I like to read under it, it calms me down. But unfortunately the tree is quite close to the red wall.

When the reign of the first King Kim began, he separated the people, leaving the richest on one side of the wall and the poorest on the other. They say he was a greedy man, who said that even knowledge should be only for the rich.

He raised his children with this mindset, which caused our kingdom to be filled with misery.

That is of course until the lower class revolts.

I don't know what happened anymore, Aunt Miranda never wanted to tell me what was going on on the other side of the wall. She He just says that I should never go near him.

"Sorry auntie, but I needed a moment of silence."

I tell her as I mark the page in my book and let Aunt Miranda guide me back to the small house in the distance.

We live in a house far from the village.

But because it's close to the wall, it's cheaper. After all, no one wanted to be close to the red wall.

We don't have much money, and I know Aunt Miranda feels bad about that. Sometimes I catch her crying at night asking God to give her a better opportunity.

But I'm grateful to her, even though I'm close to the terrible wall, she always does her best to keep me happy and safe.

"Eat your soup and go to sleep."

She says closing the various padlocks on the wooden door.

She was afraid of something, but she never says what, and she always gets irritated when I ask too much.

"Yes aunt"

"And don't go out at night to go for a walk!"

She says again, every night, the same thing.

When night came, Aunt Miranda became another woman, she seemed more scared...or something like that.

I always thought it might have something to do with my parents.

She never spoke of them, and I only have vague memories of them.

I know it was my mother who taught me to read. And I know that if they found out she would be killed.

But if she was killed for reading, why wasn't I?

Questions and more questions are always swirling around my head, and I'm starting to get tired, I need to find out.

Restless, I turn over in my bed, through the window I can see the moon shining.

Just below, you could see the great wall in the distance.

Even though I wanted to find out the truth, I knew I would never be able to get past.

The next day, when the sunlight illuminates the room, I get up.

I know that Aunt Miranda gets married a lot, and tends to wake up later, so I like to help her with household chores.

Right away I grab the big basket of dirty clothes and leave the house to wash them.

I always wash my clothes in a stream in the forest.

I don't care about the distance, I like to admire the forest with its incredibly tall trees and exotic animals.

Leaving the basket on the edge of the lake, I jump from stone to stone to avoid getting wet, and put my hands in the water.

Calm but agitated, transparent but bluish.

Nature is full of differences and similarities. Just like human beings.

I'm pulled from my thoughts when a loud noise echoes behind the trees.

Could it be a bear?

There shouldn't be any bears in this region.

The noise gets louder, sounding like it's getting closer.

My chest feels like it is being pulled down, at an abnormal pressure.

It must be fear, it can only be fear.

I've never felt anything like this.

I jump over the rocks again, pick up the laundry basket, and run towards my house.

Whatever it was, I wouldn't want to know.

Night has come again.

But unlike other nights, I don't think about answers, I don't think about the wall.

I just think...

What was that?

The noise was too loud to be a bear.

And that pressure, I've never felt anything like it.

Shit

I need to know what it is.

Getting out of bed, I put on a cape to have some protection on my body.

I open the window and without thinking twice I jump.

Landing on my feet in the grass, I look out at the forest I love to stay in.

She was dark, So dark...

But I can't think too much.

I quickly head towards the forest, looking up, I can see the stars shining over the black trees.

And again, without even realizing it, I arrive at the lake.

It was shining with the light of the moon and stars.

It was really beautiful.

And quiet.

It doesn't seem like the loud noise was made here.

But, I feel watched.

Looking around, I see nothing. But I decide to take the risk.

"Is anyone there?!"

I scream in the middle of the dark forest.

"show up!"

I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, I'm just doing it.

"You shouldn't scream like that, you'll attract predators..."

A deep, calm voice says this in my ear.

Close, very close.

Turning around quickly a tall man is looking straight at me.

How did he get so close!?

He was tall, with hair as dark as night and his eyes, black, without even a sparkle in them. His clothes were different, they were equally dark, but the jewels and gold on them gave him away. He was rich, definitely.

But how did he get over the wall?

A mocking smile is placed on his lips.

"What's wrong? Scared, honey?"

He was scary, but he had a stunning beauty, I didn't know who he was, or how he got here.

But I wanted to know... I really wanted to.

"the cat got your tongue?"

He pauses and looks me up and down.

"I understand, poor thing, are you scared, dear? Afraid of me? Why? Do you know who I am?"

He approaches my frozen body, I didn't know if it was fear, nervousness or shock. But he doesn't care.

His hand runs towards my hair, tucking it behind my ear. He brings his face close to mine, and whispers in my ear.

"It's time for you to wake up, darling..."

When he says this, darkness takes over my vision and I don't feel anything anymore...

Continued...

(Not reviewed! Sorry for any mistakes!)

[fancycollectormoon]

I'm so sorry that I'm so late to read this story 😥 but finally I did and I loved it!!! Seokjin is such a sweet guy here.

I love how whole world is built in this serie. Reading this felt as if I was reading a real fantasy book written by famous writer. I love how each story is connected to another for different member.

I wonder if they all will meet at the end.

”When you find an unconscious man bearing the mark of the Ravens on his chest washed up on the riverbed, you have to choose between your duties as a healer and your instincts as a woman.”

Pairing: Bandit!Seokjin x Healer!Reader

Genre: Fantasy, s2l!AU, Romance, Smut

Warnings: lots of plot, healing from a traumatic past, wounds & mentions of blood, very mild hatred in the beginning, some bickering which later turns into flirting, so much yearning, virgin!Seokjin, subby!Seokjin, soft dom!Reader, nudity, bondage in some sort, she feeds him while he’s sick :’), he is very eager to learn, he is also such a cutie :(, lots of kissing, neck kisses, praises, breast massage, the goodest boy!Jinnie, handjob, fingering, mutual masturbation, they are very needy for each other

Wordcount: 22.4k

a/n: Seriously, the more stories I write about this universe, the harder I fall in love with it. Each time I create a little thing or a new animal or some type of food, I am filled with so much joy. I love this world so much! Also, Seokjin really did it to me :( he is such a sweet man in this story, I wanna protect him :( I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed working on it 💚

~ Go to Index ~

You woke up with a strange feeling in your stomach.

Today was going to be a cursed day for you.

The feeling in your stomach has never lied to you before nor was it ever wrong.

Oh how you hated its accuracy, because as you rolled out of bed and hit your toe on the corner of your bed, you knew that it was once again right.

It continued at breakfast when the fire turned out to be hotter than on other days and burned the last of your eggs and meat. You had to eat the last two pieces of slightly dried up bread and when you looked into your jug, you had to realise in horror that Kukuruz - your cat - had drunk the last of your milk while you were sleeping.

“Kukuruz”, you had hissed at him, but he was slumbering peacefully on the window sill, “oh you cursed animal, may you wake up with a belly ache.”

Your bad luck continued as you hung up your laundry and dropped one of the pieces in the wet mud. Oh how you had cursed, because now you had to go down to the river to wash it again. And the curse didn’t stop, it continued on your way to town when your dress got stuck on some thorns and ripped at the seam.

“Oh how I truly hate this day!” you screamed at the skies, lifting your fist and waving it around.

Even in town your curse followed you like an unwanted shadow. Not only did the egg merchant sell the last eggs right before your eyes, but you had also forgotten your gold at home. You had to come to the painful realisation when you had to give up the most delicious looking piece of smoked meat because you couldn’t pay for it.

So you left the market just as empty handed as you had entered it, feeling less and less happy about ever setting foot outside your bed.

“I should have just stayed in bed”, you murmur, “my stomach was never wrong before, fatuous woman why did you not listen?” you grumble, almost running into low branches hadn’t you dodged them in the last moment.

You laugh in disbelief, gawking at them with big eyes.

“Truly, I must be cursed today”, you say and decide to be extra careful on your remaining way home. It wasn’t long anymore. Just past that glade and through the tunnel of conifer trees and your little cottage would be in arm’s reach.

Czytaj dalej

[chimcess]

Pitch Black Masterlist || jjk

— Pitch Black: the masterlist

"Stranded on a barren planet lit by three suns, a group of survivors struggle to survive after their transporter crash-lands. Their situation grows dire when pilot Y/N discovers that every 22 years, an eclipse plunges the planet into darkness, unleashing swarms of flesh-eating creatures. Facing both external threats and internal tensions, the group forms a fragile alliance. As mistrust and secrets surface, Y/N's complicated dynamic with convict and murderer Jungkook intensifies, making the fight for survival against the darkness and the creatures even more perilous."

Status: Ongoing

Prologue to be continued...

[peoniesnro]

In Another Universe

#4. F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Synopsis – When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin’s girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre – parallel universe (duh)/ kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff /Infidelity

Warnings – Language/ SMUT-Breast play/ nipple play/ grinding/nipple orgasms(with grinding)/ INFIDELITY

Word count – 12k (😑)

a/n- Okay I'm a liar. So much for trying to keep the word count under 10k. Sorry for lying. But I love this chapter. Hope you'll love it too. Oh, and the taglists are open. And you can send asks if you want to. I'm curious to know what y'all thinking. Thank you for reading. ♥️

Taglist?

Chapter index

Previous - Next

...................................................................................................

Jimin avoids you. Like you are the plague.

You are so pissed. Like the momma bear he said you were.

You have no memory of how your night at the club ended. Only that you woke up on your bed the next day. With a throbbing head. And a killer hangover. Another week has passed since that day. Your life went from misery to anguish. To an unbearable pain. You are still struggling with your sleeping patterns, your lectures and job. You are running out of your poor excuses. Key is always on your throat. This switching between two worlds still happens, with no answers or solutions. But nothing makes you madder than Park Jimin.

It’s humiliating to be honest. That he avoids you. You don’t know what’s worse. Whether it’s that he always managed to disappear before you wake up or it’s that you’re worried about that, after everything. He advanced toward you first. He touched you first. He kissed you first. You know why he does what he does. That, however, doesn’t make it a good reason. You can’t find it in you to be unconcerned. You are very concerned. He is a fucking coward.

Fuck him!

You scream loudly. Knowing well that no one is inside this damn apartment. Kick the comforter away. It has only been you for four days now. This is the fifth day you are waking up in this fancy apartment alone. Oh, how you wish you could have the controller of this game. How great it would be if you could start avoiding him too. Why would you care this much? It’s frustrating.

It has taken every ounce of your strength not to destroy something to show your anger. To take a lipstick and write down ‘You fucking asshole! Go to hell!’, in his bathroom mirror. Or to write down a letter using all the vengeful, insulting words you know. Thank God that you have some dignity left in you that you did nothing of the sort. Thank God you managed to come and go without leaving a trace of your existence.

You sigh heavily, watching your reflection in the bathroom mirror. There’s dark circles under your eyes. Your skin looks dry. Drier than the Sahara. Simply put, you look like shit. You’ll have to find a way to make this work if this isn’t going to stop. If you can’t find answers, you need to find a way to stay alive. You still don’t know if Jimin has talked with Liya. If he did what she said. Where she is all these times you spend here. Because certainly there was no sign of her being at your apartment. Yours and Jimin’s assumption was that she might be waking up somewhere that isn’t your apartment. Jimin wasn’t very convinced. Said she would be freaking out the next day if something like that happened.

Oh, how you want to scream at him. This isn’t going anywhere this way. He was adamant of trying to find a way to stop this quickly a few weeks ago. And now he acts like this isn’t a problem at all. What can you do after all? You are in a fancy ass apartment with no communication for fucks sake. Your phone doesn’t work here. Isn’t compatible with wi-fi. You still don’t know if you could try using a SIM card. It’s not like you can go out and find out with no money in your hand. And it’s getting damn cold outside.

You have poked your head inside couple of rooms. Found some electronic devices which were either dead or ancient. Found a laptop protected with password and you didn’t try to unlock it. In the end, while you are in this world, you are isolated from the rest of the human race. No internet. No communication. No Jimin. No way of entertaining yourself for the few hours you spend here.

It’s all his fault. Despite all the frustrating fascinations you found with him, you managed to bottle them up and act normal. He destroyed it all. Ruined. And then he has the nerve to avoid you like it’s all on you.

You rinse your mouth off. Splash your face with water. Aggressively. Why the fucking hell do you want Jimin to be here. He is annoying anyway. Why are you angry that he ruined your ‘perfect stranger’s’ relationship. Angry that he avoids you. Why do you fucking care? You for yourself have no idea why you are mad. Or at what you are mad. You are a complete mess. It’s just you are mad you can kill a man with a crochet hook.

You pat your face with a dry towel. It’s more slapping than patting. Throw the towel away. Leave the bathroom to head toward kitchen when there’s a sharp pang in your lower stomach, making you stop in the track. Anger dissipates. Replaces with the pain. You close your eyes shut. It comes again. Subsidies. Comes again. Nothing unfamiliar to you. You know what it means when there’s random pains in your body.

You have a messed-up period cycle. You always keep pads and tampons with you. Knew that your monthly pal is near for a probable two days now. There has been slight pains in your pelvic region. Today it’s intense, which means your friend has finally arrived. Fuck your life. There is your reason to hate the whole world. No, to hate every single world that exists in every fucking universe. You don’t want to deal with cramps right now. Don’t want to have your period while you’re at someone else’s house. It always sucks. Especially, when you have no pads or any kind or period products with you.

Fuck! You have no pads. You straighten up. Eyes wide. What are you going to do? Use tissues? Maybe you can find Liya’s. You turn around again. Rush to the main bathroom. Start rummaging through bathroom cabinet drawers. One by one. And of course there is none. No pads or tampons. Only things you find are damn period cups. There are couple but you’re not sure which are used ones.

You stand in the middle of the bathroom. Have no idea what you are going to do now. And the pain is slowly becoming unbearable. Of course it is. You have bad cramps. You live your life on pain killers during your periods. You need to get something for your pain before it becomes severe. Before you become a crying mess. You do the best you can. With tissues. That’s not going to last at all, but you can find something for the pain. Fall asleep as fast as possible. You search through bathroom cabinet drawers again. Through the drawers in the room. In kitchen. Of fucking course, you can’t find anything, again. What are these people? Androids? How could they not have painkillers in their home? How come Liya doesn’t have pads for emergency situations? You found some pills. Yes. But you have no idea what those for are. Not going to risk your life here.

You crouch down next to the fridge. Pain is intense now. You can’t even stand on your own feet. It’s like your uterus is about to fall. You need to think. About a way to solve this problem. Is hard when your mind is clouded with pain. You are scared to sit down on a chair. What if you stain it? It’ll be so embarrassing.

Deep breaths in. Deep breaths out.

You take deep breaths. There is no way you could fall asleep with this kind of pain. You need pads or anything to help with the blood bath happening between your thighs. You need painkillers. And you have no money and you’re not going to steal money from this house. You are in too much pain to do something like that. There’s only one person you can ask for help. Not that you want to talk to him. He avoids you. Don’t want to appear desperate. Still, the pain is too intense.

There is no communication. You hate that some people decided to rely on smartphones completely. Hate that Jimin and Liya are apparently those kinds of people. Have no landline in their house. You can’t simply bother with trying to unlock locked devices. Your brain isn’t functioning properly at all when you yank the main door open. Reach the only other apartment on this floor. Knock at their door. It opens fast for your relief, revealing a young woman probably on her 30s. She gapes at you. More than surprised.

“Uh…I… I’m really sorry but can I make a phone call?” How stupid this whole ordeal is. What are you doing in front of a stranger’s door and asking for a fucking phone. Should’ve died in your pain. Middle of a blood pool, than this. What were you thinking? The woman raises her eyebrows with her eyes wide. “Well, yeah, but are you okay Liya? You look pale? Why are you here to make a phone call? Where’s Jimin?” There are so many questions leaving her mouth but the only one that registered on your brain is ‘are you okay Liya’.

Shit, you forgot that you look like Liya. Now this might look even more ridiculous in this woman’s eye. You don’t even know her name. You are supposed to be Liya and this woman, in that case, is your neighbor. You try to smile. “I’m… fine. I just uh... broke my phone and…” You don’t know what you should say. “I’m not okay actually.” That feel better than trying to find excuses. “I just need to call Jimin, and I don’t remember his number. Phone’s broken and I… can you please?” You blurt that out. Whatever happens next, you’ll deal with it later. Blood will start running down your legs at this rate.

She stares at you for a minute. And then nods and holds the door for you. Invites you inside and gives you her phone. Thank fuck, she has his number saved. You thank her over and over before dialing his number. Listen to the ringback tone. You absolutely don’t want to do this. Don’t want to talk to Jimin. Ugh, it’s better if you could call Lee Seung than Jimin. The woman walks away to give you privacy. You watch her retrieve into a room while biting onto your thumb nail. You are just about to bite your whole finger away when the phone is answered.

“Mrs. Lee?” Jimin’s voice reaches your ear through the phone. There’s concern laced in his voice. He needs to say hello first. You take a deep breath before speaking. Feel like you have telephobia.

“Uh hello! Jimin, it’s me...” You don’t know if he can recognize you. He will think you are Liya. “Spring Roll?” Oh no he doesn’t think you are Liya. Funny how he went from not recognizing your very obvious differences to recognizing your voice apart from Liya. Or he just knows it’s your day to be here.

“Hey? Are you okay Lil? What’s happening? Why are you like… Why are you at Lee’s?” He asks again when you don’t answer. You didn’t realize you hadn’t answered. You scrunch your eyes shut and grit your teeth to endure a sharp cramp. “No. I mean I’m fine but… Jimin… I need... uh…” It feels embarrassing. “Lil? What is it?” You can hear him shuffle around. Makes you wonder if he is already leaving. Like an obsessed lover in a stupid love story.

“I need um…”

“Yes?”

“I need pads. I need pain killers.” You finally get that out.

It’s fine. It’s fine.

“Sorry but I have no money and there’s no way to contact anyone and it hurts and-” You start again. Feel the need to explain your situation when he disrupts your rambling.

“Okay.” A silence. “Hey Lil? It’s okay.” Another silence. He is probably waiting for you to respond. You don’t. So, he speaks again. “I’ll come. Go home now.” With that he hangs up.

Home?

…………………………………………………………………………………

You blink at the stupid door. You had closed it behind you when you left the apartment. And now it’s locked. You don’t know the password. A quiet groan escapes your mouth as you slightly bang your forehead on the door. Why does your life always go from bad to worse? It’s not like you can just go back and knock on Lee’s door. No, you can’t do that. It’s better to stay here, waiting for Jimin to come. So, you do that. Crouch down again because it hurts bad. Lean your back against the door. Wait... When you are not in pain and can form coherent thoughts, you’ll slap yourself and then later kill Jimin- even though he is the one helping you.

…………………………………………………………………………………

It probably took more than thirty fucking minutes for him to come. Tears are rolling down your cheeks, and you are at verge of passing out, when you finally hear the elevator ding. Tissues are failing you and you are about to cry all over again for the embarrassment when your head snaps towards the sound of footsteps. Eyes landing on Jimin. On a black suit again. Like the last time you saw him. He has a grocery bag in his hands. He stops. Eyes on you. Takes a shaky breath in and approaches you like wind. Crouches down beside you.

“Fuck. What are you doing here? Are you okay?” He slightly touches your face. You shake your head. “No. It hurts. Bad.” You can’t be embarrassed now.

“Fuck I’m sorry it took some time to come Lil. But why are you here? Outside?” His eyes are wide. Mouth a little agape. Adorable. You clutch your stomach tightly. “I... ha...ve no password. I... don’t kn... know it.” You manage through gritted teeth. Jimin sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. Lamenting. Looks like he wants to slap himself.

“Shit. Shit, I’m sorry Lil. I forgot, like…”

You interrupt his pointless apologizing with a painful whine. You’re not his responsibility after all. It’s not like he should be here. Jimin gapes at you, mouth open, for a split second. Nods his head in realization. Surprises you when he suddenly grabs you from your upper arm. Makes sense when he reaches for the lock and enters the password. He holds you steady, so you won’t fall. He holds you steady, so you won’t get into your feet on your own. Stops you when you try to. Surprises you again when he cradles you. You yelps first in surprise and then in mortification.

“No, Jimin. There’s probably …” You don’t get to complete that sentence. Not as he enters the house. Kicks the door shut behind you.

“Fuck it.”

…………………………………………………………………………………

“You fine now?” Jimin softly asks you as he stares at your huddled figure, laying on your side. He stands next to the bed. You feel fairly fine now compared to earlier. Not completely, though. Pain isn’t going to subside just after you swallow some pills. You nod anyway. You are now perfectly curled up in his guest bed. All clean and tummy full. In his clothes since you said you shouldn’t wear Liya’s clothes all the time without her permission. Ready to sleep with your phone and your clothes pressed to your chest. You learned from your mistakes and evolved through the time you’ve been here. That’s how you learned to dress properly to bed. Even with a bra, despite how much you hate to wear it. From now on, you’ll make sure you carry a care package to bed with you. With every essential in there.

“You sure?” Jimin asks again, slightly bending down toward you. You crack an eye open to look at him. He is still in his dress shirt. Looks worried. It was ridiculous how you had to assure him again and again that you will not die and are fully capable of showering alone. He is a funny thing. Jimin is. Paradoxical. Complicated. You find him hard to read. “I’m fine Jimin. It hurts but I’ll be okay. This shit happens every month.” You state matter-of-factly. Jimin snorts. Sits on the edge of the bed. “You sure? Cause you sure did act like it was your first time.” There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. He has been avoiding you for nearly a week and now acts like nothing happened. Pisses you off. You take a breath in to calm yourself down.

“Well, I always take something for my pain and it’s not like I always ended up in some stranger’s house…You know? With no pads and...” Your words trail off as you watch Jimin grins now. He is teasing you. Asshole. “Oh, fuck you Jimin. It was an emergency. Sorry I bothered you.” You grumble, trying to hide your face in the pillow. “Hey, no Lil, I was just joking and uh... anyway you didn’t bother me. It’s okay to ask for help sometimes. I’m glad you did. If it hurts then it hurts.” He places his hand on your arm. Makes you shudder. His voice is serious now.

You sneak a peek at him again. He and you need to talk. Talk about what happened last time he was close to you. You need to convince him too. Convince that you were drunk and forget it ever happened. This moment, however, doesn’t feel like the right time. You’re still in pain and it’s always easy to procrastinate. It’s okay to let it slide for this one last time. You and Jimin were on good terms before the club night happened. With playful banters and insults that didn’t actually hurt you both. You were kind of friends. Right? Perfect strangers? There’s no reason to be hostile or distance when he is the only person you know in this world. You can sweep it under the rug until you take it out again. So, you nod. Mutter a soft thank you.

“I wouldn’t have call you anyway if I had you know… I just… Fuck.” You don’t know what you should say.

Jimin smiles. His cheeks puffs out like soft, round loaves of bread. You madly want to squeeze them.

Nope. You don’t.

“It’s okay Lil. It was an emergency, like you said. I know you wouldn’t have reached me if it wasn’t. But are you gonna be okay alone? Like do you want me to stay?” He asks, through his grin. Adorable but is so dramatic. You roll your eyes.

“It’s just periods Jimin. I know I was crying but believe me I will not die, I promise.”

“You promise?”

“Yes. I promise. Happy? You can go to work now Mr. CEO. You have a business...” You wince. Grit your teeth. Blow a breath out. “…to run, don’t you?” Complete your sentence finally. Random cursed cramps. Jimin gives you a skeptical glance. Doesn’t say anything when he stands up. You watch him curiously when he rounds the bed and climbs up next to you. This is not good. This, definitely, isn’t good. What is he doing?

“Okay…? What are you doing?” You mumble with wide eyes. “Nothing. Just going to make sure you won’t actually die.” He says as laying back. Eyes on the celling. You turn to your back too. “Seriously Jimin? This is ridiculous. You can go. Besides, isn’t this weird for you to lay here with me?” Look at him with your head turned to his face. “I wake up next to you every other day spring roll. And most of the time, you cling to me like a koala.” He says that very nonchalantly when you choke on your own spit. Do you? You gape at him. Do you really do that? Jimin’s bread cheeks are appearing again, however. He is trying so bad not to break into a laugh. You groan annoyingly. “You little stupid….” Mumble every curse word you know as you turn your side again. Your back to him. Jimin giggles. Why does he have to be adorable all the time? Why do you have to think he is adorable all the time? And hot. And...

This time you are grateful for the sudden pain that make you reel. It distracts you from Jimin. Even though it makes you whimper quietly and squeeze your tummy. Grit your teeth hard and leave you exhausted when it subsides. You take a deep breath after the pain become bearable. Feel Jimin shifts behind you. Maybe he turns to his side too. There’s a beat of silence before his voice reaches you again.

“Are you really okay Lil? Does it hurt a bad?” His voice is too soft for your liking. Makes your heart picks up the speed of pumping blood.

Bad.

You just nod to indicate you are indeed fine when another cramp hits you. He shifts again. Closer to you this time. You are certain. Can feel his warmth on your back now. Makes you tingle all over. This is really bad. And it’s worsen when he speaks again.

“Want me to help you? Do something to soothe the pain?” Jimin whispers. Makes goosebumps appear on your skin. Makes the hair in the nape of your neck stand. You shot your eyes open, staring into dark blue curtains of the room. Heart now beating violently. What does he mean?

“Help me how?” Your body has started to react exactly like that time in the club. Funny, since he isn’t touching you this time. You don’t even know what he is insinuating at. He might well be saying that he would tell you a bedtime story and you are already panting. “I... uh...don’t know. Like rub your tummy like. Fuck I don’t know Lil. Anything to help you.” His voice is still a whisper, and you shudder. Again. Oh, he indefinitely is not going to tell you bedtime stories. Why would he suggest this at all?

The air in the room suddenly feels heavy. You two are going to fuck things up for a second time if you don’t say the right thing.

All you need to say is, ‘are you crazy? I don’t want you touching me, Park Jimin. That’s so wrong. Go to hell’. Then why are you nodding.

This is a disaster.

You stiffen when you feel him scoot closer. Not quite in contact with your body but you are sure just a light movement from you, would make your back plastered into his chest. Can feel his breath on your neck. Like the last time. Makes your head spin. Like the last time. Mouth dry and heart about to leap away. Like the last time. And you are poised. Anticipation firing inside you. Excitement bubbling. Not even trying to soothe your dry throat. As if one single moment from you will make him disappear. “Want me to Lil?” He asks again. Fuck its addicting how his breath fanning your neck when he speaks. You nod again, weakly. “Words Lil. Say you want me to.” Jimin doesn’t even move a finger. Just stays close to you. This surely doesn’t feel like trying to soothe your pain. Instead, feel like you are doing something immoral. Well, it is immoral. You need to use your words and say you don’t want his help. Shouldn’t let this carry away like the last time.

“Yes. Help me Jimin.” You mutter breathlessly. To hell with it. You don’t know what you are doing. “Soothe the pain you know. It’s okay since you are trying to help.” Add that part just for the sake of your sanity. To justify the situation. To make it fair and mitigate. You expect Jimin to laugh at that. Snort. Asks you to stop being a bitch and then trying to justify your bitchy actions. If you are bad, then you are bad. He doesn’t. He doesn’t do any of those things. Surprisingly, agrees with you. “Yes, I’m just trying to help.” You are certain he says it to himself more than to you. You nod in agreement anyway. Wait until he do something. Patiently. Holding your breath. Let that breath out with a shiver when he finally snakes his hand over your waist. Palm flat and places on your tummy. Over your (his) hoodie. “Like this?” Asks again and start to rub gentle circles all over your stomach. You don’t trust your voice. Are afraid you’ll moan. All you can do is nod.

Fortunate how he doesn’t ask you to use your word. You think this situation is embarrassing. How you are near moaning when he is just rubbing your stomach. There’s nothing more but you are becoming pliant. Turning into a mush under his touch. That’s exactly how it was the last time. You’re pathetic aren’t you?

You visibly shudder when his breath hits your sensitive skin every time. It feels good. You won’t lie. Even when you can’t feel his touch properly, it feels damn good. Enough to make you sigh in relief. “Am I doing it right?” Jimin whispers in your ear. A weak yes escapes your mouth. “Does it help? Do you want more?” He scoots closer to you more. Finally press his chest into your back.

Oh God!

You don’t know what you should say. In a world where you are a completely sane person, you would say yes that helps and you don’t want anything more. This world, however, is a world where you are completely insane. So, you say no, for the first question. So, you say yes, for the latter one. Jimin sighs heavily. Almost like he is beyond relieved with your answers. As if he waited for you to say them.

“Okay. I’ll push your hoodie up. Huh? Just want to soothe the pain. That way will be better.” He waits again until you say yes. Give him the green light to proceed. The thing is, he needs to stop asking because you won’t say no. You feel like you are high. Your brain is malfunctioning. Bite your bottom lip until the blood draws when he does push the hoodie up, after another one of your weak yes’. Touches your bare tummy. Directly touches your skin for the first time. Without any barriers and you are certain he feels how you tremble.

It's just fingers first. Drawing mindless, yet burning patterns on your hot skin. And then he is pressing those fingers on your skin. Then painfully slowly his entire palm. Touches you properly. Massages your soft muscles. His hand is all over your tummy.

“This good?” Asks again. Makes you annoyed.

“Yes. Please.” Fuck why did you say please. What are you begging for. You’re really glad he doesn’t ask. Just keeps caressing you. Rubbing. Massaging. Touches turning tender every time. Comes even more closer to you. Hides his face in your hair. You weakly whimper when you feel him inhaling. A feathery kiss following. He brings you Impossibly closer to him.

“Lil...” Breathes in your ear.

“Hm?”

“Fuck. Just?”

“What?” Your voice is barely audible.

“Can I? Please?” His voice is no different. Husky. Breathy. And feels like liquid honey to your ears.

You know what he is asking for. You shouldn’t but you do. This is the only chance for you to do the right thing. At least pretend dumb and stop him.

“Yes. Jimin….yes.” How desperate you sound. The only relief is the shudder you feel on Jimin’s body. “Thanks fuck.” Says as his hand starts wandering upwards. Up, up and up. You give up trying to keep your mouth shut. Allow yourself to softly moan when his hand reaches your ribcage. Touches you there properly. Fingers graze the underside of your boobs. But doesn’t go any further. Stops there. Drives you crazy.

No, you shouldn’t ask for it. Shouldn’t beg.

“Fuck Jimin. Please.”

Jimin hides his face in your neck. His grip on you tighten. “Please what?” Loves to make you little more miserable than you are. It seems. “Please what Lil? What do you want?” Asks again in your ear. You want to go back to your bickering selves and curse the shit out of him. Impossible when he gives you feathery touches under your left boob. So, you give up.

“Touch me. Please fuck touch me.” Ask for what you want like a good girl. Jimin curses. “Touch you where? I am touching you.” Says as he squeezes you tightly. You whimper again. This time in complaint. He doesn’t do anything though. Waits patiently for your answer. Well, fuck it!

“Tits. My tits Jimin. Please touch them.” You don’t say those words, you moan them. Jimin kisses your ear at that. “Fuck Lil.” Mumbles in your ear and then his hand goes to where you want it to be. Grabs your left boob in his palm. Grips it hard. Molds. Sighs heavily.

“Fuck you are not wearing a bra again?” Traces his thumb over your hardened nipple. Takes it between his thumb and forefinger, pinch it. Makes you twitch. Do it again and again. “I… J... Jimin. I…” Your voice is trembling. “It’s hot.” Jimin says mindlessly. Shifts the attention between your two breasts. Molds them so good that you are moaning without you realizing. Makes Jimin press himself firmly against you.

It feels so sudden. Like the time in club. Why do you do this? He and you? Why neither of you can think properly? You are not drunk now. Very sober and still do this.

It's very wrong. Immoral. Unfaithful. Yet, it’s happening. And it is so fucking good. You’ve been starving for touch, and you are incapable of refusing one when you finally receive it. Especially, when those touches belongs to someone like Park Jimin. You’ll think about the reasons later. For now, you’ll just give up. Let him play. Touch you right. Allow him more access to do it more. That’s why you slowly start to roll onto your back. To let him touch you more. He helps you. Shits in his place and snakes his hand under your neck. Curls that hand so you become impossibly close to him. Keeps groping your soft mounds. Like he can’t stop doing so.

You look at him for the first time after you started this. Are so happy to see him flushed. Similar to you. Eyes hooded and pupils dilated. Mesmerizing. Comes closer to your face. Breath fanning your lips now. For split second you think he’ll kiss you. Disappointingly, he doesn't. Murmurs against your mouth instead.

“They are so soft. Your tits. Fucking soft. Wanna touch them all the time.” His lips slightly brush against yours when he mumbles. You moan shamelessly. You were turned on in an inhuman way from the beginning. Now though, you think you’ll die. You smell him in. Want to tell him he can just do that. Feel like you are travelling through the clouds. Words fail you. Only breathless whimpers and monas leave your dry mouth.

“Will you show me, Lil?” Asks again since all you do is gaping. It’s already too late turn around now. You rub your thighs together. Clench around nothing. “Please? Just want to see.” Squeezes your left tit so hard that a cry rip through your throat. Back arching. You nod desperately. “Yes. Yes. Yes, you can.” Close your eyes to drown in the head spinning feeling. Only for a moment though. Open them slowly again when you feel Jimin shifts your hoodie up. Revealing your bare skin to him. You are not surprised anymore. Just painfully horny. The way his breathing staggered, makes the sensation double. He pushes the hoodie all the way up. Toward your neck. Gets your tits bare in front of his eyes.

“Shit. Fuck Lil.” Curses some more. Molds your tits some more. Props himself a little bit. You reluctantly raise your head to let his hand go. Leans over you. Grabs your tits with his both hands. Start groping and molding. Sanity is slipping through his fingers as you watch. You and him both are insane now. You keep leaning into his touches. Harsh and pleasurable ministrations. Moan his name.

“Shit you are gorgeous.”

“You have seen them Jimin.”

“This is different. Fuck. I wanna suck them.” He peeks at you through his lashes. The desperation in his face together with his words are enough to make you cum in your pants. You want to say yes but words aren’t coming out. Especially, when he presses a tender kiss to one of your nipples. Pulls back to look at your face. Then kisses the other one. Doesn’t pull back this time, just stays in his place and inhales. Smells you. “Fuck!” Curses. You want to say yes.

He doesn’t wait for your answer anyway. And you are glad. “Want them in my mouth Lil. Gonna suck them, okay? Gonna… fuck.” He gives up entirely. Gives up on talking. Explaining. Dives right into your tits. Takes one hardened bud in his mouth. And you find words. “Holy fuck Jimin... Oh god...” You nearly cry. Hands reaching his head. Fingers lacing through his blonde locks. You have sensitive nipples but this? His mouth does wonders apparently. His hot tongue swirls around your nipple. Sucks on them. Moans. Sucks your life out of you. Keeps groping the other one. Then takes the other nipple in mouth while squeezing the now free one. Kisses and sucks every inch of skin he can find on your tits. Lightly bites. Leaves your tits wet with his saliva. You like the feeling. Even love it when he starts sucking on your skin harder. Surely giving you marks.

“Fuck, you are so sensitive. Think you can cum like this?” Jimin asks so suddenly that you are beginning to be surprised again. It’s so out of blue. “What?” You ask through your whimpers. “Cum Lil. Can you cum while I suck on your tits?” Asks again. Doesn’t wait for your answer and goes back to his work. Well, you don’t think you’ll completely be able to do that. Without a single pressure on your clit or nothing close to your quivering hole. “I’m not… su…sure. Like I need... Jimin.” You tug from his hair. He moans. You don’t think he understand what you are trying to say. See, now Jimin will never cease to amaze you. Can read minds. Doesn’t say anything but completely hovers over you. Places one knee between your thighs. Presses. You shudder. Reel. Moan. Watch the way Jimin peeks at you again. One of your tits still in his mouth. Moaning against your nipple. Pops it out. Kisses your wet nipple and bites it lightly. Licks it.

“C’mon, go on. Rub your pussy on my knee.” Says against your tit before starting to suck on it again.

And of course you do. How are you to refuse such a demanding plea. Press his face more into your chest and start grinding your cunt on his knee. Desperate. Hard. Fast. And he keeps sucking your tits. Soaking them. Encourages you with grunts and groans. Vibrations he cause travel through your body like liquid fire. To your core and makes that knot in your tummy tighten. Tighten with every press of your cunt on his knee. Even though it’s through layers of clothing. With his every suck on your tit. And right at a moment when he bites little harsh on your right nipple that knot explodes. Making you cry for him. Your grip on his hair tighten. Nearly rip his hair off when he finally pops your nipple from his mouth. Stares into your flushed face. Smirks. Peppers some light kisses to your abused tits. Makes you flush with embarrassment.

You both take a moment. Jimin is still grabbing and holding your breasts. You are staring into the ceiling. Both of you taking deep breaths. Trying to calm down from your high. Jimin retrieves his hands from your breasts slowly. The stupor you were in breaking down. Shattering into little pieces, so you could see properly. Think properly again. And the very moment, unclouded thoughts occur in your mind, you sit back abruptly. Making Jimin do the same. Both of you inhaling a shaky yet deep breath. Just like that, you two fucked up again. It doesn’t make sense how you lose control. How he loses control.

You want to ask him why? See, now it was only you who reached a high and he didn’t. Does he want the same? Are you willing to give him that? If he doesn’t want that, why did he do that for you? Is this the same kind of situation where he was confused? No, he kept calling you Lil. Not Liya.

You stare at his face. His face is flushed still but calming down. Eyes starting to flash something else which is not desire. Regret perhaps. You want to ask million things.

“Don’t fucking run away Jimin.” That’s the only thing that leaves your mouth. He shakes his head at that. Blows a breath out.

“I won’t. Just sleep. We will talk.” He says. There’s no warmth or softness in his voice anymore. His voice isn’t husky or breathy. Just like the last time, he is very serious now. Only that he isn’t stuttering. Nor does he run away like you burn him. Still, he and you are both back on earth now. He stares at you for another hard minute. Then he climbs down from the bed.

“We will talk Lil. I promise.” Says before running away. Again.

You fucked up. Again.

…………………………………………………………………………………

“Okay for real young lady, I don’t buy anything you say.” Key screeches in your ear as you try to wipe the tables down. End your shift and go home. Key isn’t supposed to be here, and she’s annoying you so much. “Well, I don’t know what I should say to you then my dear best friend. Move out of the way please. I have works to do.” You nudge her out of your way with your hip. She scoffs. “You should tell me the truth bitch. What’s happening in your life? How come you miss so many lectures and where the hell are you going all that time?” She keeps trailing after you. From one table to another.

“Do you have a secret boyfriend or something? So, you fuck around with him and miss your lectures? Are You fucking crazy? Who’s going to pay for you to repeat the subjects….” Her nagging is becoming unbearable, and you are glad Chan interrupts you. “You gonna fail your subjects?” He asks with a look that’s torn between pissed and incredulous on his face. You take back the glad part. You groan. Throw the cleaning cloth on your hand onto the table. “No one boss. No one’s failing their classes. My best friend is just fucking dramatic.” You point your finger at her.

She gasps. See, dramatic. “Don’t talk to me like that you little brat. I’m worrying my life away here for you.” Turns to Chan. “She’s been going MIA for some time now. Doesn’t attend lectures. I can’t reach her. And she sometimes doesn’t come to work too. Doesn’t she Chan?” Starts nagging to him instead of you. Fine by you to be honest. This is the first time in a while you are here at your workplace at the same time with Chan and Key. You guess Chan hasn’t confessed his feelings for Key yet. She would tell you if he did. Surprisingly, you don’t feel much bitter about it now.

You found out that you can talk to Chan normally a few days ago. Without any hard feelings and not wanting to cry nor slap him. And now you are finding out that you can stay in the same room with both of them. It hasn’t been that long since your rejection. Just nearly a month but probably the things happening in your life makes the rest of your life problems insignificant.

“It’s only been couple of days. So, it’s just fine.” Chan answers Key’s question with a shrug. Doesn’t sit properly with Key apparently. “Oh, c’mon… How that’s not fucking concerning Chan. It’s very irresponsible of an employee to be unattended without prior-”

“Fuck Key. Are you my friend or enemy?” You interrupt her while sneaking a glance at Chan. He is unbothered. There’s a grin on his face. As if Key said the most adorable thing right now. Well, if that’s how he always looked at her, then you might have been blind. “That’s fine Key. She is just not an employee. We are kind of friends so, as long as you don’t disappear for like weeks and months that’s fine with me.” He says finally, looking between you and Key. Key sighs while you nod in assent.

“Well, that makes this situation even more concerning. As a friend of her you need be worried as I am. What if she planning to sell her kidney.” Key doesn’t want to accept defeat. She has been constantly nagging you lately. Nothing you say is believable anymore. You have said you are sick so many times that Yoon-hee, your favorite professor, told you that you can ask her help if your illness is terminal. They might think you’re dying at this rate. It’s reasonable and very fair that Key is worried. You would be too. Can’t tell her the real reason though.

“I’m just fine Key. Please stop worrying. And my kidneys are safe.” You pat your lower back before reaching for the cleaning cloth again. Look back at her. “I promise. If I really am in a problem, I will tell you. You know that already.” Say as you start to wipe down the tables. Miss the glance Key and Chan share.

“You will?” Key asks, finally accepting the defeat.

“I will.” You nod without looking at them.

“I meant it when I said we are friends, you know. You can ask for help if you want, my very hard-working employee.” Chan adds when he isn’t a part of this at all. You and he are not that close friends. You were once infatuated with him, but not anymore. Still, you nod. Say you know.

It’s better you figure things out soon before you fuck up things in this world as well. Now, after you officially ruined things in Jimin’s world, you want this switching to end as soon as possible. You’ll find a way. Yes. You will.

…………………………………………………………………………………

This is the most unproductive Jimin has been in his entire life. He was far better than this when he was a college fuck boy and didn’t give a damn about passing his subjects. Even then he did a better job than staring at his computer screen. Black. It has been exactly fifteen minutes since he sat here in his study. He has work to do, but can’t concentrate. His mind is everywhere. No, that’s a big lie. His mind isn’t everywhere but at two people. Two people who look exactly same but not at the same time.

Why did he allow that to happen. Not once, but twice. Did he really think you were Liya? No. He didn’t. Jimin found a simple answer for his questions after loads of thinking. He really is a fucking asshole. Just like you said. He knew what he was doing but still did. Knew it was wrong but threw morality out the window the moment he felt you. And he fucked up.

The day at the club, when he returned to your booth to find you and that jerk named Jungkook were gone. Gone for a fucking dance. Jimin had felt his guts twist with an unfamiliar rage. He wasn’t or isn’t the jealousy type. Besides, you weren’t his girlfriend or anyone else that mattered to him. Still, he found his legs working on their own as he drifted to the dance floor. Saw you with him. Smiling. Laughing. Felt the same pang he felt when he saw you with Taehyung that day earlier. Saw he turns you around. Touches you. And he wasn’t thinking at all when he started storming toward you. He had a good excuse in his mind. You were supposed to be Liya. Liya will never do that. And only she knows why. It didn’t matter though. What mattered only was that you were breaking the character, and he needed to cover it. Before you ruin everything.

Funny, how he was the one who ruined things afterwards. It was pure bliss when he felt your body against him. Simply, the moment he felt you he started to think with his dick. It’s simple as that. That’s what happened at both times. He did his best to stay away from you after the club. Doesn’t know why he felt that it was the best decision. That it would solve the problem. He, after all, kind of knew he would fuck up again, if he was to be with you. Just like he thought, he did. Fucked up. And what he did was cheating.

Jimin cringes visibly at his own thoughts. He left that life behind, didn’t he? When he met Liya. When he started his business. He left his playful life behind. He is not Taehyung; he stopped jumping into fire pits just because it’s fun. Those stupid decisions people make just because they feel good at the moment, always come back to bite in their asses. Exactly like now. Like Jimin is drowning in misery full of guilt and regret. Guilty toward Liya. Regret toward you. Because even if it’s for a little while Jimin knows you. Even if you and he may not have a proper tag on your relationship. It was fine. The relationship you had. It was fine. More than fine actually and he ruined it.

His miserable thoughts got startle out of him, making him jump on his seat when the door of the study room suddenly slammed open. He snaps his head to the door at the same time Liya barges in. That’s not very like her. She knows how to knock after all. And she looks wearied off. Jimin watches curiously as his girlfriend takes a seat. Slams her bag on the desk. Makes Jimin flinch.

“What’s going on?” He asks carefully.

“I missed my meeting with Owen Scott. With the ‘Owen Scott’. Yesterday. Because I slept through it and the deal ruined Jimin. Can you believe that? I lost this one chance to partner with Scott. My dad is going to kill me.” Liya vents. Jimin feels like she slaps him. She missed that meeting while, he was fondling with your breasts happily. Has to bite his tongue so he won’t say something stupid. Oh, the guilt starts to tear his conscience away.

“Oh! I mean, that’s bad but reach to him again….?” He says after carefully deciding that’s the best reply. Liya gives him an incredulous look. “Don’t talk like you don’t know business Jimin. If you missed, you missed. There’s no going back.” She slumps her shoulders. Then puts her hand on the desk. Let her head falls down between her hands.

“Who said that to you?” Jimin doesn’t think Liya is here to talk business. They rarely do that. Live in two different worlds. He wants her to go. This is really uncomfortable. How much of a dick he is. “My father of course. But that’s not the problem Jimin. I keep sleeping through the days. It happened more than one time, are you aware?” Liya raises her head back. To give Jimin an accusatory look. Jimin wasn’t in a good mood to begin with. And that mood starts to get worsen when Liya silently, but definitely accuses Jimin. She does that all the time. Even his guilty conscience starts to dissipate at her accusatory look.

“And that’s my fault? That you sleep through your meetings?” He feels like shit when he says that, however. It’s not his fault, to be fair. But still he knows what’s happening yet never tried to explain that to her. Maybe this is his chance to bring that subject up. He promised you he would talk to Liya. But after the club he felt too cowardly to face either of you. For different reasons.

Jimin feels heavy. Bile rising up his throat. He cheated on her. Their relationship might not be the best but still cheating never was something they had both done. Ever. Not even when he can’t remember when they last had sex.

Yes, that’s it. That’s why he was so out of control with you. Sexually deprived. Never felt the need to find a woman to satiate his needs since he was so busy. That, however, in the end doesn’t change the fact he is human. So doesn’t the fact it was wrong.

“No. How’s that your fault?” She questions back. Keeps her gaze on Jimin’s face. Makes him uneasy. God, he needs to come clean, doesn’t he? How though? This is a very complicated matter. “No, I should have woken you up.” He says timidly in the end. Voice barely a whisper. Liya certainly doesn’t expect that if the way her eyebrows raise is anything. Jimin can’t wake her up even if he wants to. And he doesn’t know what he should do. You and he will have to do something soon. Liya nods slightly. Says that it wasn’t his fault, and she doesn’t expect him to do that. Surely is about to say something else when Jimin beats her to it.

It’s now or never.

“Baby, are you sure you are just sleeping through days?” The term of endearment feels heavy on his tongue. She looks confuse for a moment. Her perfect brows pull together. “What do you mean?” Asks. “Uh… like... are you having weird dreams?” He praises himself for coming up with that.

“Like what kind of dreams?”

“I don’t know. Like any kind of dream. Vivid dreams I mean.” Waits hopefully for her answer. “No… No, I don’t dream at all, I think. It’s like I’m dead while I’m sleeping.” Says making Jimin feel even more miserable. How is he ever going to clear this mess. He just nods. “That’s good. I mean at least you are not having any bad dreams.” Says as he finally turns his computer on. Liya clears her throat again, however. Jimin thought she would leave, but of course that can’t be the reason why she is here. They don’t share their problems. She isn’t here to vent about her issues like she should.

“Well? You are not here to tell me your life sucks, are you?” Jimin pays his attention back to Liya, lips curling up slightly despite there’s nothing amusing happening. Liya blows a breath out before taking another one in. “No. I’m here to tell you that I can’t make it to the Hoseok’s party. Sorry baby.” Says without an ounce of regret in her voice or face. It’s Jimin’s turn to blow a breath out. He isn’t surprised at all. Nor is he hurt. It’s very expected from Liya. Just tilts his head up. Asks the reason simply.

“I just have to meet Min Jae for this dinner on New Year’s Eve. I’m so sorry but it’s so sudden baby. He only called me just this morning-”

“Don’t fucking lie Liya. You are not least bit sorry, and you never wanted to join me there at Hoseok’s at first place.” Jimin scoffs. There was a time he couldn’t stand Min Jae. The damn celebrity and the heartthrob of Seoul, South Korea. Doesn’t know since when he does not care. Liya flinches at his words. Or voice.

“Watch your tone and words Park Jimin. You don’t get to talk to me like that because you’re jealous. You’re too old to be jealous.” Liya says sternly as she stands up.

Jealous?

“I’m by no means fucking Jealous baby.” Jimin emphasizes the word fuck yet tones down his voice. Doesn’t want to fight. Not after he did something wrong. Feels like he has no right to do so. Liya stares at his face. “Good then. Just tell them I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it.” Takes her bag and walks to the door. Reaches the doorknob but then turns around again. “You know what Jimin? You should at least pretend you’re disappointed. You don’t look like you care at all.” Bites on to her bottom lip while waiting for Jimin’s answer.

See, now Jimin is wrong for everything he did yet Liya makes his blood boil with her stupid antics. She wants him to beg. All the time. Wants him to be the one who gives hundred percent. He happily did so once. When he thought he would be able to do forever without getting tired but then he did. He is fucking exhausted of that. Ever since that day he finally felt tired he and Liya started to crumble.

So, he scoffs. “You know what Liya? You should at least pretend that you’re sorry you couldn’t make it. You don’t care at all. And if you think I would beg, sorry Miss. Kim Liya, but I’m just fine by myself.”

…………………………………………………………………………………

“So….” You start after staring into each other’s faces for a solid five minutes. It’s getting awkward.

“So…” Jimin repeats you. Just sitting in a desk chair while you sit on the edge of the bed. In his bedroom again. You were so worried about this day to be honest. You partially expected him to start avoiding you despite his words. But he was here when you opened your eyes. And it was you who insisted on having this conversation as the first thing. That way your own nerves will not allow you to sweep the conversation back under the rug, just after you pulled it out. So, here you are. Gaping at your faces with no words leaving your mouths.

“We need to talk Jimin. You promised we would talk.” You pout at him. Unintentionally again. There’s a slight smile ghosting on Jimin’s lips, but he doesn’t really smile. “We are talking.” He says, gesturing between you. “You call this talking? I can’t believe you are in a five-year long relationship when this is your idea of talking.” You say with a huff. “Exactly. That’s why it does work.” Jimin mutters under his breath. You want to ask what he meant but that would certainly distract your subject of matter. So, you heavily sigh as you get to your feet. Approach him. He looks up at you. It’s not comfortable having this conversation while he looks at you like that. Reminds you of a time he stares at you just the same way through his lashes.

Okay stop!

“Did you talk with Liya bec-”

“I did and she, apparently doesn’t travel anywhere Lil. She is just sleeping. She thinks she sleeps like she is dead.”

“That can’t be though. If I’m here and she disappeared-”

“I know. But I already told you she can’t be waking up in a strange world since she never said a word about it. She said nothing because she isn’t going through what you are going through.” Jimin tells as he gets to his feet finally. Towering over you. You like that. “I don’t know what’s happening but she, Liya, doesn’t go anywhere. Or even if she does, she never woken up. She is asleep all these times you are here.” Explains further. Peers into your eyes. You do the same for a second before tearing your gaze away. This makes it worse. It makes this isn’t on Liya either. She isn’t going anywhere. She is asleep when this shift happens, and you are the only one who is awake. That means it happens while you are asleep. Not her. This is on you. Not her.

It feels hard to breathe again. “What do you think will happen if I fall asleep while she is still awake. Will us shift?” You ask, suddenly. Jimin pulls his brows together. Thinks for a bit. “I’m not sure. We haven’t tried that yet, have we? We can try that. I mean you can try falling asleep in middle of the day when she would be clearly awake?” Suggests. You nod.

“Yeah, that’s it. I’ll try that tomorrow.” Say like you finally found an answer when Jimin softly sighs.

“Whatever we find Lil, will not change anything. Even if this doesn’t happen while she is awake, it will happen again one day or another. Unless of course you two decide to compromise and change your sleeping schedules.” He says it as a joke, but you beam at him. A wide grin adorning your face. Jimin’s face softens at that. Shakes his head. Does that thing he always do when he is frustrated. Searching for answers from the above. Looks at you back and about to take his hands to his face when you sprint into action. Grabbing from his both wrists and surprising you both.

“Don’t do that. It turns you into a tomato.” You say since you already started it. A soft chuckle escapes Jimin’s mouth.

“Seriously?” Asks. You let his hands go. Say that you are serious, and he nods. Smiles. Almost like in pity. “That thing won’t work Lil. The sleep schedule thing. You know it’s the same thing, right? It’ll not make any difference… it’s not like one of you can sleep during the day or something. And I don’t think Liya will... anyway it’s stupid.” Jimin talks to you like you’re a child who lost her candy. Your smile falters at that. Of course, you know. It’s really stupid. Then you’re back at a lost.

This time it’s you who search for the answers in the white ceiling. It’s you who rub your face frustratingly before you turn your back to Jimin. Let your head fall down again and throw your hands on your hips. Feel like you want to cry all of a sudden. “Then what should we do Jimin? Keep going like this? Forever? I’m oh so fucking tired. I can’t keep doing this. I just want a normal life. And I don’t know how to-”

“Hey. Hey.” Jimin doesn’t turn you around to face him. Instead, he walks around you to face you. Gently tilt your face to his with your chin. And let go of you immediately afterwards. You pretend that doesn’t do any hurtful things to you. “We will find answers Lil. We will. I don’t know how, but we will.” Stares into your eyes. You do the same, let yourself get lost in his amber depths. Did he always have those eyes. Why do you feel warm. Cozy. Melting. Why do you feel like you travel into a forest at twilight. And then he smiles again, softly, making those amber depths disappear in his cheeks. You want to touch him. Cup his cheeks.

Nope. Not again!

You turn your head away from that bewitching gaze. Clear your throat. Take a step back. “So, what are we going to do until then Park? If it take like forever to find answers, if we turn old? No, I will not live to turn old. I’ll die from the exhaustion.” You whine. Bottom lip jutting out. Jimin chuckles. “We will find answers before you get grey hairs and will stop this. And until then…” Now he gapes at you intensely. No sign of a laugh on his face. You watch gears shift in his head. Takes his time and then gives a single nod. “Yes, until then you can at least have your normal life back.” Clarifies. Yet, nothing is clarified in your head. “What normal life? Like? What do you mean Park?” You pull your eyebrows together.

“Like you wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night, like normal people do. Unless you party hard at some nights. You are going to live a normal life even though there’s nothing normal in your life Spring Roll.” Jimin is stern. Looks like someone with a plan.

“Are you suggesting that I’m spending a whole day here and a whole day there. Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“How’s that gonna change anything? What about Liya? You want her to miss an entire day of her life? And what do you plan to tell her when she starts asking you about the previous day? What am I going to say to Key? She is already on my tail. I can’t miss my lectures Jimin. I can’t stay away from my job for a whole day.” You throw your hands in the air. Jimin surely isn’t someone with a plan. His plan is way stupider than yours.

“Okay slow down.” Jimin holds a finger in front of you to shut you up. “Well, first, we won’t do this for long. We will find a way to stop this before… I don’t know before uh… like the spring.” Says proudly when you gape at him in disbelief. Holds two fingers up. “Okay even before that. And second, for Liya, she didn’t remember a thing when you uh... that day at the club. You spent a day here and she was fine-”

“You don’t plan on telling her about me at all. Do you park? You just asked her if she is waking up in somewhere strange and when she said she doesn’t you let it at that?” You don’t appreciate that pathway.

“No. I didn’t, and I’ll not ask her anything Lil. Because that’s stupid. If she doesn’t know then she is good that way. No need to trouble her when she will not believe me anyway. And… trust me it’s better when she doesn’t remember a whole day and think everything is fine than waking up in a middle of the day and worrying about having a some fucking sleeping disorder.” Jimin let his hand fall down. Gaze on you. Expectant.

“Okay, so you are saying she is better sleeping a day away. Fine. Then what about me Jimin? What about my life. How-”

“You gonna get medical assistance.”

“I’m going to get what?”

“You are terribly ill that you need special consideration from your university. And your damn boss will understand that too.” He looks smug. Proud. Really do look like someone with a plan. You are not convinced, however.

“But that’s lying.” You say as trying to imagine how your life will be. You’ll have to lie to everyone. “You have a better idea Spring Roll?” He grabs from your shoulders suddenly. “Like you said Lil. You can’t stay awake through nights. You can’t keep giving stupid excuses. So, let’s give them something believable. And meanwhile let’s find a way.” Raises one of his eyebrows at you. Well, you have no other ideas let alone better ones. Maybe, just maybe this will work. But then it’s not like you can go and tell people you are sick and need special consideration. Expect them to rely on your verbal explanations.

“Well, I need proof to prove I’m sick Park.”

“Leave that to me. Just give me the details I want.” He grins. Let you go. You’re still not hundred percent convinced. Feel skeptical. Yet are willing to see what will happen. So, you nod. Sigh.

“Yeah. Let’s do this. It’s already fucked up anyway.”

He nods too. You both nod in unison. One problem is talked through. No answers but there is a plan, that might work. Or not. In that case, there’s only one thing is left to talk through. And for you, that is the scariest part. Makes your legs weak even before you start it. If the way Jimin gulps harsh is anything, you know he feels the same way. Still, you’ll have to talk this one too. Especially, since you’ll spend days here from now on.

“Um... well, then about what happened the other day… I... uh...” You are the one who start it first. Jimin encourages you to keep going with a slight nod and his furrowed brows. “I... I mean... it’s like I’m sexually dep-”

“Sexually deprived.” Jimin finishes for you. You suck in a deep breath. Fall into a deafening silence. Have no idea whether he completed your sentence or said it to you.

“I was sexually deprived Lil. I don’t remember when I last fucked.” He then lets you know that he indeed did the latter. You are about to ask how, when he gives the answer for that one as well. “Yes, I have a girlfriend but we both are so fucking busy. It just happened Lil but-”

“But it won’t happen again.” You complete it for him this time.

“Exactly. And it’s not happened because you look like her because, uh… I don’t know, you’re not. And it has everything to do with me being horny as fuck.” He is not looking at you. Just staring at the bed. As if this is the first time, he sees it. “And it’s so fucking wrong. I’ll resolve my problems, and I don’t want to think that I used you or something.” Gets done with bed and looks at you instead. “Ugh... this is so frustrating.” Finally rubs his face. You don’t stop him this time. “I fucking crossed a line Lil. I’m really sorry and it will not happen again.” Finishes. Now it’s your time.

You feel at a loss, however. Feel disappointed. Ridiculous considering you expected this. This is how it should be. Still, there’s a pang in your heart. A tangled ache. A piercing confusion. You force yourself to smile. Pretend that you’re fine. “Yeah, I get it. And it wasn’t completely on you Jimin. I said yes and like you, I’m sexually deprived too. And unlike you I don’t have a fucking boyfriend either.” You finally manage to say while blowing out a breath. This is fine. “So… that happened because, both of us were horny. Like extremely horny. That’s it and I’ll resolve my problems as well.” You agree. Not with the bottom of your heart. Something feel wrong. Extremely. Yet you continue anyway.

“I’m sorry too Park.” Chuckle very awkwardly. Wave your hand in front of you. You’re not looking at him either. “But like are we good though?” Take a sneaky glance at him. Catch the way he bob his head violently. “Of course, we are.” Affirms and gives you an awkward chuckle of his own.

“Great!” You keep forcing yourself to smile.

“Great...” He echoes.

“Um... then are we like friends?” You ask without thinking. What a stupid question. He thinks so too, apparently. Gapes at you. “Friends?” Inquires tentatively. You just keep peering at his adorable face. Leaves him to do nothing but answer your question.

“Yes. Yeah, fuck. Friends. We can be friends like… uh... yeah friends Lil. We are friends.” Concludes at last. Takes you by surprise when he is stretching his hand for you to shake.

Oh! It apparently aches.

It was your idea anyway. You take his hand. Shake.

“Friends it is. And we will not do anything that crosses the line again.” You seal the deal.

“We won’t.” Jimin squeezes your hand. Keeps it in his hold more than necessary and finally let go. And you’re certain this is the most disappointed you’ve ever been.

…………………………………………………………………………………

“Liya wmph be there a’ New Year’s Ee?” Taehyung asks through his mouthful of kimbap. Jimin peers at him over the printed report he’s been looking at while eating his lunch. “Liya what?” Jimin frowns at his friend.

“Yah! Don’t talk with your mouth full, moron.” Jin clicks his tongue at Taehyung. Taehyung sighs but swallows down his food before repeating what he said earlier.

“Liya won’t be there at New Year’s Eve? Seoyeon told me.” Even gives further explanation, though nobody asks.

“Oh, she won’t?” Hoseok perks up too, expectantly looking at Jimin. Jimin hates this. Just shrugs.

“Yeah, some dinner plans or something.” Says as nonchalantly as he can.

“With who? You’ll be there though, right?” Hoseok asks again at the moment Jimin is about go back to minding his own business. “Of course, I will. Why wouldn’t I Hobi?” Jimin gives him a tight-lipped smile, praying he would stop asking questions. He doesn’t, but Taehyung does.

“Liya was really weird that day. Is she okay? Like was her tummy actually hurting that day? Is that why she acted like that?” Taehyung blinks at Jimin. Jimin blinks at Taehyung. Jin butts in to save him. “Why would someone act so cheery when their stomach hurts? That’s fucking stupid Tae.” He says while searching for a paper serviette. Jimin almost nods in assent when Jin speaks again. “But she was weird. I mean not that I know her very well...” He doesn’t get to complete whatever he is saying when Hoseok snorts.

“Sorry.” He mumbles fast. Then point his chopsticks at Jimin. “But Hyung is right. Fuck dude. You and she have been together for five fucking years, and we knew each other all that time but she is a fucking mystery, you know. I mean no offense...” Looks carefully at Jimin.

“None taken.” Jimin finally gives up trying to review this stupid report and places it back on the table. Hoseok carries on happily. “Yeah, but I mean I was so surprised she joined us in a club? And then acted like she likes us so much?” He raises his eyebrows and tilts his face. Jin after all didn’t butt in to save him.

“Right? Exactly my point.” Taehyung agrees very enthusiastically for Jimin’s displeasure. “She even danced with that guy. What was his name Hobba? Your friend’s friend? With tats and eyebrow piercing?” He looks at Hoseok while pointing at his own eyebrow. Jimin feels the same unpleasant twist in his guts at the memory.

“Who Jungkook?” Hoseok asks back when Taehyung snaps his fingers, grinning. “Yeah. Jung Kook. She danced with him dude.” They all are looking at Jimin now. He doesn’t know what to say. Jin again butts in and definitely isn’t saving him.

“And then these two almost fucked in the dance floor. Liya? And Park fucking Jimin? I have never seen her somewhat like kiss you in the public Jimin. Was she possessed that day?” Jin finally has found the serviette he was looking for. Jimin sighs. Hardly. There’s a headache forming. “She was just fine, guys. Was in a good mood. That’s it.” Says wearily. He really wants his friends to drop this conversation.

“Yeah? So, she is back to her sour mood again. Back to dislike us again. To think that we are all bad influence on the-best-future- CEO- Jimin.” Hoseok says with an edge to his voice. Makes Jimin really uncomfortable. It’s true in a kind of way but not completely. Liya doesn’t think that way, just doesn’t like hanging out with them and that’s her choice. Still, Jimin feels the urge to defend. Defend who, he has no idea. Maybe himself. “She doesn’t think that way and she... I mean has no problem with you.” Says and stuffs his mouth with food.

“I think that’s the same thing. I mean we don’t care, it’s your personal life, but she really doesn't like us, Jiminie. That’s why she won’t come to the party as well.” Hoseok scoffs. That discomfort Jimin felt is turning into anger now. “Really Hobi? You said you don’t care but you certainly act like you do.” He puts the chopsticks down. Hoseok does the same. “I don’t. I’m just saying Jimin. No need to get so riled up. If you’re happy then we are happy. The question is, Are you happy?” Smiles at Jimin but it feels like a smile of pity.

“Yeah, yeah, happy boss happy life.” Taehyung quickly disrupts. Picks a kimbap and brings that to Hoseok’s mouth. He gives Taehyung a very judgmental look but eats it anyway. Makes Jimin sigh. He loves his friends. “I’m not your boss you fuckers! We are co- fucking owners. And I really don’t want you to think that way. I am happy, guys. I mean c’mon it’s just a party and who cares if she can’t make it.” Tries to laugh but fails.

“You should care.” Jin says noncommittally. Doesn’t even look at anyone. But everyone looks at him. “That’s your girlfriend of five years. We are your friends, and we don’t want to suddenly sit back to talk about walking in different paths with whatever we made till now, just because she hates us. Maybe you should care, Jiminie.” Finally looks at Jimin. Jimin feels a weird sensation his stomach. This is not the first time his friends brought something up like this. Not that they always do but sometimes they just let Jimin knows that he isn’t happy. Fuck them!

“Okay fuck. She will come. Since you all think it’s a huge deal that she can’t come, and it defines our relationship. Let me prove it.” Jimin blurts that out. Looks at everyone. Ignores the way all three of them saying he doesn’t have to prove anything to them.

“She will come guys. Hobi, count her in.”

Fuck, why did he say that. How old is he to play silly games. How on earth is he going to make Liya agrees to come.

…………………………………………………………………………………

Jimin stares out of his floor-to-ceiling office window. Sulking. Regretting his life decisions.

“Fuck!” Mutters to himself and sighs. Why did he say Liya would come? Why did he make a big deal out of it. Maybe he can just let it go. His friends won’t make it a huge deal if he joins them alone. They wouldn’t now, would they? Jimin groans loudly. Looks up. About to rub his face furiously when the tomato pops up in his head. Can’t help but chuckle. You are always so weirdly interesting.

He needs to block you out of his mind. Think about the problems he has instead of thinking about you. It’s very unintentional, however. You’ll pop up on his mind at most random times. Like now. Jimin puts his hands back. Refrains from making himself looking like a tomato. Wonders if you try sleeping in the day. See, can’t help it. Groans again. Starts pacing around only to stop dead in the track. You feel nauseous when he does that.

Wait what? What the actual fuck? You again?

This might look really ridiculous how he just stands in middle of his office. Mouth agape. What’s wrong with him? He needs to find a way to get Liya abandon her dinner and join him. Or if it doesn’t work, he will have to find another plan. He just needs to bring his girlfriend to that stupid party. So, his friends will not think his relationship is crumbling. He shouldn’t care. It’s stupid to try to worry about a fake healthy appearance of a relationship. But apparently, he does. And he needs to find a way. Needs to stop thinking about what you like and not.

He looks at the place that gives him answers all the time- the fucking ceiling. He always finds answers there.

A way to bring his girlfriend to the stupid party. Or find another way. Another way.

Wait. Another way? He has another way.

A huge grin breaks out on his face. Of course. Liya will never change her plans for him. He won’t either. But since he still needs to pretend, all he has to do is bring his girlfriend. Or someone who looks like his girlfriend. There he goes. He lets out a victorious noise. He’s going to ask you. You will agree. Because of course you will.

Besides, you two are friends now. Jimin thinks that’s extremely stupid. Your idea anyway. So, he will make the best of being friends with you. Even though something doesn’t sit right with him when he thinks you are friends now. There’s a disappointment in his heart. An ache. Still, this is the right thing and right way. He gives himself a few nods. He will ask you to help your friend. That’s what friends do. This strange ache and longing will go away. And when it does, he will have a good friend.

A friend from a star.

A friend who looks exactly like his girlfriend.

A friend who sounds so sweet when she comes.

A friend who has most beautiful fucking tits.

Still, friends. You said you are now friends. Fucking friends.

F.R.I.E.N.D.S.

…………………………………………………………………………………

Chapter index

Taglist- @chimmy-licious @smoljimjim @graydolan12

[1343401]

echos of the sea - chapter six

pairing: bts x reader

status: ongoing

word count: 14.2 k

warnings: depictions of violence, kidnapping, death, family trauma, insecurities, mentions of blood

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taehyung’s heart was already pounding by the time he reached the ballroom. he hadn’t even been running, but something in his chest was tight, pressing against his ribs, an unease that had been sitting in the back of his mind all night.

he wasn’t supposed to be nervous. this was just another job. something he could walk away from once it was over, no different from all the other things he had done to scrape by.

but that was before jiah had gotten involved.

he moved through the crowd with quick, purposeful steps, scanning every face, every dark head of hair, every unfamiliar set of eyes. she had to be here. she had always been here, lingering on the edges of the world she didn’t belong to.

except now. now she was gone.

his pulse kicked up, and his movements became sharper, more precise. he passed a group of nobles deep in conversation, skirts swishing and silk gloves brushing against wine glasses. the scent of spiced wine and perfume clung to the air, thick and stifling.

where the hell was she?

he was so focused on searching that he almost didn’t hear his name.

“hey, taehyung!”

he stopped short, spinning toward the voice.

one of the castle staff was balancing an empty tray on her hip, her dark hair slightly disheveled, her face flushed from moving between guests all night.

“did jiah ever find you?” she asked, tilting her head.

his stomach clenched.

“what?”

the girl blinked. “she was looking for you earlier. well, not really looking, more like standing around in a daze, but same thing, right?”

taehyung stepped closer, lowering his voice. “where is she?”

the maid hesitated, shifting her weight. “oh. uh… well, i might have let something slip.”

his blood turned to ice.

“what did you say?”

the maid glanced around as if to make sure no one was listening, then leaned in slightly. “i thought she already knew, but i kind of mentioned that taehyung was proposing tonight. and she, um. freaked out.”

his breath left him in a sharp exhale.

“she what?”

the maid winced. “yeah. she didn’t take it well. she looked like she was about to be sick and then bolted for the balcony.”

taehyung barely heard the last part. his mind was already spinning, calculating. jiah was alone on the balcony.

and the pirates…

his stomach twisted violently. this wasn’t supposed to happen. the princess was the one who was supposed to be out there, alone, waiting for prince seokjin. that was the plan.

taehyung turned quickly, scanning the ballroom again.

his eyes found princess yiseo almost immediately.

she was still on the dance floor, twirling beneath the golden chandeliers, laughter on her lips as she moved in perfect time with the music.

she was still here.

his chest tightened.

and then, like a nightmare unfolding in slow motion, he saw it.

prince seokjin wasn’t rushing. he never did. every step was measured, every movement effortless, the weight of his crown woven into the way he carried himself. golden embroidery glinted under the chandeliers; his face unreadable as he cut through the sea of partygoers.

he was heading for the balcony.

no. no, no, no.

taehyung’s pulse roared. his mind scrambled, trying to fix this, to stop this, to stop him, before everything fell apart.

the pirates were waiting.

they thought yiseo would be the one to step out onto that balcony. they thought seokjin would follow, lovesick and oblivious, right into their hands. it was supposed to be simple. clean. perfectly timed.

but jiah was out there instead.

taehyung clenched his jaw. he needed to think. to act.

seokjin was getting closer.

his steps slowed, just barely, his gaze flicking toward the open balcony doors. to anyone else, he looked composed. but taehyung knew better. he saw the tension in his shoulders, the twitch of his fingers before he smoothed them out.

seokjin knew something was wrong. maybe he’d seen jiah leave too suddenly. maybe he’d been watching her all night without realizing it. maybe some deep, unshakable part of him was already bracing for disaster.

taehyung had to stop him. he took a step forward, and then he saw them.

just beyond the ballroom’s grand windows, barely visible in the shadows of the garden, a figure moved. then another. dark silhouettes slipping between the hedges, waiting for their moment. waiting for seokjin.

no. not just seokjin.

jiah.

they weren’t hesitating. they weren’t waiting for the scene to play out as planned. they were adjusting, adapting, ready to strike now.

taehyung swore under his breath. he couldn’t go to seokjin anymore. he was too late. if he wasted another second, jiah would be gone before he could stop it.

he turned on his heel and moved.

not for the prince.

for the pirates.

yoongi saw it happen before he even meant to look.

seokjin, standing too close. her, staring up at him like she wasn’t sure whether to run or stay. a quiet exchange passing between them, something heavy, something charged.

yoongi exhaled sharply, tilting his head back against the wall behind him. of course. of course.

seokjin had always been like this. he didn’t have to try. he didn’t have to chase. women just looked at him and fell at his feet, drawn in by his effortless charm, his golden looks, his name. the crown prince of a kingdom, the face of a thousand love letters, the man who could have anyone and still never seemed satisfied.

and now, of all the girls in the world, it had to be her.

yoongi’s fingers twitched at his side.

she wasn’t supposed to catch his attention. he wasn’t supposed to notice the way candlelight turned her dark eyes warm, wasn’t supposed to care when she smiled at someone else, wasn’t supposed to find himself lingering at the edges of rooms just to see what she’d do next.

but he did.

he did, and now seokjin was looking at her the same way he looked at every girl he’d ever wanted. like she was his for the taking.

yoongi’s jaw clenched. it wasn’t fair. not that yoongi believed in fair, not in a world where men like seokjin were born to have everything and men like him had to carve out their own place with blood and steel. but still.

she was something different. something unexpected. something rare.

and it burned, just a little, to know that seokjin would take her without ever realizing what he had.

princess yiseo had poems written about her. songs composed in her name. men lost sleep over the thought of her.

but standing there, watching her shift under seokjin’s gaze, yoongi knew the truth.

yiseo could have a thousand love songs, a thousand poets bending words into beauty for her sake, and she still wouldn’t compare.

yoongi didn’t even realize his grip had tightened on the hilt of his sword until his knuckles ached.

he forced himself to relax, to breathe, to remind himself that it didn’t matter. it shouldn’t matter. what was one more girl in seokjin’s orbit? what was one more fleeting interest for the prince, who collected admiration like war trophies and discarded them just as easily?

but then she shifted, weight shifting from one foot to the other, and something about the movement struck him harder than it should have. she wasn’t like the others. she wasn’t standing there wanting seokjin’s attention, wasn’t leaning into the charm that so many others had fallen for. if anything, she looked caught, like she’d been pulled into something she hadn’t meant to be a part of.

and that was what made yoongi’s irritation sharpen into something uglier, something personal.

because seokjin could have any girl he wanted. he could have a princess, a noblewoman, any one of the countless admirers who wrote him letters and dreamed of his name. but instead, without even meaning to, he had her.

the one girl yoongi had found himself noticing when he shouldn’t.

his fingers twitched again, but he didn’t move. didn’t let himself.

because what was the point?

seokjin was seokjin.

and yoongi, yoongi had never been the kind of man to reach for things he had no business wanting.

the night air was crisp, the scent of salt thick on the wind. laughter and music spilled from the ballroom behind them, but out here, on the balcony, the world felt quieter. heavier.

and then the doors slammed open.

jiah startled, but seokjin was faster. his hand was gone from hers in an instant, his body shifting in front of hers, shoulders squared, stance solid. a shield.

her heart pounded.

the man standing in the doorway was tall, broad shouldered, dressed in dark pirate garb that contrasted sharply with the glittering decadence of the ballroom behind him. the open collar of his shirt revealed a sliver of tanned skin, the loose fabric doing nothing to hide the strength in his build. tousled brown hair framed sharp features, his eyes dark, focused. assessing.

he didn’t look at seokjin. he looked at her.

his gaze dragged over her, lingering for just a second too long before he let out a low hum, lips curling at the corners.

“well,” he said, “you’re prettier than i expected.”

jiah blinked.

seokjin, however, stiffened. “excuse me?”

the man ignored him entirely. his focus remained on jiah, eyes gleaming with something like intrigue. “not that i thought you’d be ugly, of course. but you know how it is, people exaggerate. all those songs about your beauty, all those poems… i figured there had to be some embellishment.”

her lips parted.

oh.

he thought…

he thought she was the princess.

jiah knew the story well enough to know if she didn’t get out of there quick, things would get ugly fast.

but i’m not yiseo, jiah thought. i’m not some important noble or princess. i’m just playing the part of  a servant wearing cloth she shouldn’t be at an event she shouldn’t be allowed to attend

yet a part of jiah was intrigued. in whispers of the sea, yiseo had been too in her head to be a reliable narrator. this scene was basically four lines. the pirate, jong-something if jiah  remembered correctly, shows up, fights the prince, wins, and takes the girl. the book never spoke of the pirate’s wit.

seokjin, standing like a storm about to break, was far less amused. “who are you?”

the pirate let out a soft chuckle, finally glancing at him. “you don’t know?”

seokjin’s expression darkened.

“right, right,” the man mused, crossing his arms. “royalty never bothers learning the names of the people they terrorize, do they?”

jiah barely smothered her laugh.

seokjin did not look amused.

but before he could bite back, the pirate turned his attention back to her, stepping forward, just slightly, just enough to test the space between them. “so tell me, princess,” he murmured, head tilting, “do you live up to all those stories?”

“i—”

“she’s not the princess.”

seokjin’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade.

the pirate blinked. frowned. looked at jiah again, gaze narrowing.

then, slowly, his smirk returned.

“oh,” he said, dragging out the syllable like he was tasting it.

his eyes gleamed.

“now this is interesting.”

the pirate tilted his head, eyes sweeping over jiah once more, slower this time, like he was trying to figure out exactly what he’d walked into.

his smirk deepened.

“so if you’re not the princess,” he drawled, “then who are you?”

jiah opened her mouth, but seokjin stepped in before she could speak.

“none of your concern.”

the pirate exhaled a quiet laugh, amused. “really?” he mused, shifting his weight. “because from where i’m standing, it feels like my concern.”

seokjin’s jaw tightened. “step back.”

the pirate didn’t. if anything, he stepped closer.

jiah could feel the shift in the air, thick with tension, electric with the kind of energy that only came when two people were seconds away from throwing punches.

“not very polite, are you?” the pirate mused, gaze flicking over seokjin like he wasn’t even the slightest bit concerned. like he was barely worth acknowledging. “must be exhausting, standing so stiff all the time. do you ever relax? smile, even?”

“do you ever shut up?” seokjin shot back.

the pirate grinned.

“only when i’m too busy doing something else.”

jiah sucked in a breath.

oh, this was getting bad.

“so?” the pirate prompted, shifting his attention back to her. “if you’re not the princess, then what are you doing on this balcony? at a royal party? with him?”

he said it like he and seokjin were on two entirely different planes of existence. like seokjin was some untouchable figure of power, and he—he was something else entirely. something freer. something dangerous.

and for the first time in her life, jiah wasn’t sure which one of them she was supposed to fear more.

“she’s a guest,” seokjin said, voice clipped. “and she’s leaving.”

“oh?” the pirate hummed. “funny, because she doesn’t look like she’s leaving.”

his gaze flickered back to jiah, sharp and knowing. “she looks like she wants to hear what i have to say.”

he wasn’t wrong.

jiah should probably be worried about that.

but before she could decide how to respond, seokjin shifted again. subtle. just a fraction, but enough. enough to shield her, enough to block the pirate’s line of sight.

it was a warning.

a declaration.

mine.

the pirate exhaled a soft laugh, amused.

then, in a move so quick jiah barely had time to register it, he reached for the dagger at his belt, flipped it in his hand, twirled it between his fingers with an ease that made it abundantly clear that he was very good with it, before catching it by the hilt and tossing it straight into the air.

seokjin tensed, ready for a fight, but the pirate caught it effortlessly on the way down, smooth and controlled, as if the entire display had been for nothing but his own amusement.

Or, jiah realized, hers.

his grin widened.

“so what do you say, princess?” he mused. “stay and talk to a real man for a while?”

he glanced at seokjin.

“or let the prince keep pretending he can keep you all to himself?”

the tension snapped.

seokjin moved first.

his fist flew toward the pirate’s jaw, sharp and deliberate, but the other man was fast. he ducked, sidestepped, laughed as he twisted out of reach, the sound infuriatingly smug.

"touchy," the pirate mused, twirling the dagger again. "relax, your highness. i’m just having a little fun."

seokjin lunged.

this time, he got a solid hit. his knuckles connected with the pirate’s ribs, forcing a sharp grunt from his lips. but the other man recovered fast, fast enough to return the favor, shoving seokjin back with a well-placed strike to his side.

jiah stumbled, barely managing to avoid getting caught between them as the fight escalated. it was fast, brutal, a series of swift movements, seokjin, all precision and control, and the pirate, all sharp edges and unpredictability.

somewhere in the chaos, she tried to move.

tried to step away, to slip out of reach,

but a hand caught her wrist.

"ah, ah," the pirate chided, barely sparing her a glance as he wrenched her back toward him. "not so fast, princess, you stay here."

seokjin’s expression darkened.

"let her go."

the pirate smirked.

"make me."

he barely had time to finish the sentence before seokjin drove forward again, this time aiming lower, trying to knock the other man off balance.

it almost worked.

almost.

but the pirate was quick, faster than jiah had expected, faster than she suspected seokjin had anticipated, and at the last second, he twisted, grabbed seokjin by the front of his coat, and yanked him forward.

seokjin staggered.

the pirate grinned.

jiah barely managed to keep up.

it all happened too fast, the shift in the air, the blur of movement, the sharp sounds of fists colliding with flesh. she couldn’t even tell who was winning, only that seokjin was fighting like his life depended on it.

like her life depended on it.

the pirate, for all his arrogance, was good. frustratingly so. he moved with an ease that suggested experience, his footwork swift and practiced, every dodge and counter seamlessly fluid. but seokjin was better. his strikes were precise, calculated, honed by years of discipline. where the pirate fought with reckless confidence, seokjin fought with purpose.

he landed another hit, a brutal punch to the jaw that snapped the pirate’s head to the side.

for a second, jiah thought it was over.

but then the pirate laughed.

"damn," he muttered, rolling his shoulders as he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. "you hit harder than i expected."

and then he struck back.

the shift was immediate. seokjin had barely a moment to react before the pirate surged forward, slamming his knee into his stomach and using the momentum to shove him backward. seokjin staggered, but he didn’t fall.

"you’re good, princey," the pirate continued, circling him now, the dagger still twirling between his fingers. "but i gotta admit, i was expecting more."

seokjin’s jaw tightened.

"drop the blade," he ordered, voice sharp. "if you’re so confident, fight me fairly."

the pirate feigned a thoughtful expression. "hmm. tempting." he tossed the dagger once, catching it with ease. "but no."

seokjin lunged again, forcing the pirate to shift, his grip on the blade adjusting. their movements became sharper, more dangerous. seokjin weaving through the attacks with practiced ease, the pirate countering every strike with frustrating precision.

jiah felt useless, caught between them with no idea what to do. she needed to run, needed to get out and get help before one of them got hurt—

a hand snatched her waist.

"ah, ah," the pirate chided, barely sparing her a glance as he yanked her closer. "i thought i told you to stay princess."

seokjin snapped.

"release her”

the pirate grinned, attempting to pull jiah in even closer if it was possible. 

the next hit came before he could blink. seokjin drove forward with brutal force, slamming his forearm against the pirate’s throat and forcing him back against the railing. the shift was immediate, the smirk wiped from the pirate’s face, replaced with something sharp, something dangerous.

"you really are touchy," he muttered, voice strained. "i like it."

seokjin pressed harder. "you’re going to leave."

"hmm." the pirate tilted his head, the sharp edge of his smirk returning. "nah."

before seokjin could react, he moved.

the motion was quick, effortless, a sharp twist, a shift of weight, and suddenly seokjin was the one pinned, his back slamming against the railing, the pirate’s forearm digging into his chest.

jiah gasped.

the pirate, utterly unfazed, leaned in slightly. "fun as this is," he murmured, "i didn’t actually come here to fight."

his gaze flicked to jiah, slow and deliberate.

"i came for her."

seokjin saw red.

"you’re not taking her anywhere."

his voice was pure steel, sharp and unwavering, but the pirate only grinned, the tilt of his head almost lazy.

"funny," he mused, "i don’t remember asking for permission."

his grip on seokjin barely wavered, even as the prince braced against the railing, trying to shove him off. but the pirate was stronger than he looked. lean muscle packed with undeniable power, honed by a life spent navigating rough waters and ruthless battles.

and jiah.

jiah could barely breathe.

"let go of him," she said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts.

the pirate glanced at her, feigning curiosity. "oh? and if i don’t?"

jiah didn’t have an answer. she had no weapon, no way to fight back, only the desperate urge to do somethingbefore seokjin got hurt.

but the pirate wasn’t looking for an answer.

instead, his fingers twitched and in a movement so fast it barely registered, he flipped the dagger.

seokjin stiffened as cold steel pressed against his throat.

jiah froze.

"there we go," the pirate murmured. "that’s better."

seokjin’s jaw clenched, his entire body taut with tension, but he didn’t move. didn’t dare. the blade was small, more of a threat than a true weapon, but in the pirate’s hands, it might as well have been a sword.

"what do you want?" jiah forced out, pulse thundering in her ears.

"same thing as always," the pirate said, as if it were obvious. "gold. freedom. a good drink." his gaze flickered to her again, slower this time, something unreadable beneath the amusement. "and maybe," he mused, "a pretty thing to take back to the ship."

jiah recoiled. "i’m not—"

"oh, you are," he interrupted, grin widening. "gorgeous, actually. not sure why you were hiding out here, but lucky me, huh?"

seokjin jerked against the blade, fury rippling through every inch of him. "don’t talk about her like that."

the pirate only laughed. "don’t like sharing?"

"let her go."

"and again," the pirate sighed, "you keep thinking i take orders from you."

his hand twitched, just the slightest shift, but enough for seokjin to move.

it happened in a blink.

seokjin twisted, shoving forward with his full weight. the motion was so sudden the pirate lost his footing, stumbling just enough for seokjin to slam his elbow into his ribs. the dagger slipped, and seokjin lunged, driving him backward in one fluid motion.

jiah staggered away, heart hammering as the two men collided again.

but this time,

this time, the pirate didn’t laugh.

this time, he looked pissed.

"alright," he muttered, shaking out his wrist. "no more playing nice, then."

and then he attacked.

the fight became brutal. less like a battle of skill and more like sheer, raw force. the pirate was ruthless, striking without hesitation, forcing seokjin onto the defensive. seokjin blocked what he could, countered where possible, but the pirate fought dirty. quick jabs to the ribs, sharp kicks to throw him off balance, every move designed to weaken his opponent instead of overpowering him.

and it worked.

seokjin was fast, trained, disciplined. but the pirate fought like a man who had learned survival the hard way. and worse, he was still smiling.

"what’s wrong, princey?" he taunted, sidestepping another strike. "not used to a fair fight?"

"fair?" seokjin spat, breath heaving. "you brought a knife."

"so did you."

"what"

the pirate lunged and before seokjin could react, he snatched the dagger from his belt.

"see?" he said, flipping it between his fingers. "fair."

seokjin cursed.

"alright," the pirate mused. "i think i’ve had my fun." he shot a glance toward jiah, expression thoughtful. "ready to come with me, princess? or do i have to start getting creative?"

jiah’s blood turned to ice.

"over my dead body," seokjin snapped.

the pirate smirked. "if you insist."

and then he swung.

seokjin dodged, barely.

the dagger slashed through empty air, missing his throat by mere inches. the pirate moved with terrifying speed, relentless in his pursuit, every strike aimed to disable, not kill.

seokjin knew he was at a disadvantage. he was a prince, trained in combat, yes, but trained for duels, for honorable fights where his opponent followed the same unspoken rules. but pirates didn’t have rules. they had survival, and that made them dangerous.

but seokjin wasn’t about to lose.

he shifted, using the pirate’s momentum against him. the next time the blade came down, he twisted, forcing the pirate’s arm to veer off course before slamming his elbow into his side. the pirate grunted, stumbling back, but the smirk never left his face.

"not bad," he admitted, rolling his shoulder like this was all some casual sparring match. "but not good enough."

before seokjin could react, the pirate kicked.

seokjin felt the impact rip through his ribs as he was sent backward, his body slamming into the railing with bone-rattling force. pain exploded across his back, breath ripping from his lungs in a sharp gasp.

"seokjin!" jiah’s voice was barely audible over the roar in his ears.

he barely had time to recover before the pirate was on him again.

seokjin ducked as the dagger came down, metal scraping against the stone where his head had been just seconds ago. he tried to counter, but the pirate was faster, already anticipating his move.

"getting tired, your highness?" the pirate taunted, twisting the dagger in his grip. "you’re slowing down."

seokjin didn’t answer. just grit his teeth and launched forward, trying to disarm him,

but he made one fatal mistake.

he underestimated just how fast the pirate was.

in a blink, he was the one being flipped, his back hitting the stone hard enough to make his vision blur. before he could so much as breathe, the pirate’s knee was digging into his chest, pinning him down.

"now, now," the pirate hummed, pressing the dagger to his throat, "let’s not make this any harder than it needs to be."

seokjin’s hands shot up to grab his wrist, trying to shove the blade away, but the pirate held firm.

"i really should kill you," he mused, almost lazily. "but then again…where’s the fun in that?"

his grip shifted and before seokjin could react, he was gone.

jiah barely had time to scream before she was snatched.

one moment she was watching seokjin fight for his life, the next, she was yanked back, an arm locking around her waist, a hand clamping over her mouth.

"shh, princess," the pirate murmured into her ear, way too amused for someone who had just fought a prince. "don’t make this difficult."

jiah struggled.

panic surged through her veins as she kicked,fought, but the pirate barely reacted. he lifted her like she weighed nothing, already backing toward the edge of the balcony.

seokjin staggered to his feet, eyes wild with panic. "let her go!"

"sorry, your highness," the pirate grinned, hoisting jiah higher against his chest. "i think i’ll be keeping this one."

"jiah!"

she screamed. a raw, desperate sound as the pirate took his final step,

and then they were falling.

jiah's scream tore through the night air as gravity yanked them down. her stomach lurched, panic clawing up her throat,

but the pirates had planned this.

instead of slamming into the courtyard below, they crashed into something softer, a thick canopy stretched between two posts, designed to break their fall. the impact still rattled through jiah’s bones, the wind knocked from her lungs as they bounced, her vision spinning wildly,

and then the pirate moved, shifting their weight just enough to send them sliding off the edge.

they landed in a crouch, the pirate barely stumbling as he adjusted his grip on her. jiah had no time to react before he was running, her body still locked against his as he tore through the castle grounds like he owned the place.

"put me down!" she struggled, kicking against his hold, but he didn’t even stagger.

"now, why would i do that, princess?"

"stop calling me that!"

he laughed. actually laughed, as if this was nothing more than a game to him. jiah twisted, trying to break free, but his grip was ironclad.

above them, shouts rang out. "find them!"

seokjin.

jiah’s chest clenched. her head snapped up just in time to see the prince on the balcony, hands braced against the railing, his expression furious.

"jiah!"

she reached for him instinctively, but it was too late. the pirate had already ducked into the shadows, weaving through the palace grounds with terrifying speed.

"let me go!" she demanded again, thrashing harder.

"keep squirming like that, and i might drop you," the pirate mused. "not that i’d mind. could always carry you over my shoulder instead."

jiah froze.

he must’ve felt her hesitation, because his smirk pressed against her ear. "that’s what i thought."

she wanted to kick him in the teeth.

instead, she forced herself to focus. she needed to think, needed to find a way out of this before—

a whistle cut through the air.

the pirate grinned. "right on time."

jiah barely had time to process before they were moving again, toward the walls, toward a rope dangling down from the battlements.

"no! no, no, no," she twisted, trying to break his hold. "you are not—"

"i am," he said cheerfully, securing his grip before leaping for the rope.

jiah shrieked.

the world lurched as they swung upward, her stomach flipping violently, the castle dropping away beneath them. wind tore through her hair as the pirate climbed effortlessly, one arm hauling them up while the other held her steady against him.

"don’t look down," he offered, as if that was helpful.

"i hate you," she seethed.

"aw, princess," his tone was mock-offended. "we’ve only just met."

before she could snap at him, they reached the top of the wall.

"go, go, go!"

other figures moved in the darkness, pirates, already in motion. jiah barely got a glimpse of them before she was being hauled over the edge, the pirate barely breaking stride as he ran again.

the docks.

jiah's breath hitched.

they were heading for the docks.

"someone stop them!"

shouts rang out behind them. castle guards.

the pirate laughed under his breath. "bit slow, aren’t they?"

"they’re armed," jiah shot back, hearing the distant clang of swords. "you’re outnumbered."

"mm," he hummed. "you’d think that would matter."

they rounded the final corner and jiah saw it.

the hwa yang yeon hwa.

the book did little to describe how massive the ship truly was. it loomed ahead, lanterns glowing in the dark, its sails unfurled and ready to leave. ropes dangled from the deck, waiting for their crew to climb aboard.

"no—!" jiah fought again, trying to slow them down, but the pirate didn’t let her go.

"don’t worry, princess," he said, tone far too smug. "you’ll love it aboard."

and with that, he jumped.

seokjin stood at the edge of the balcony, chest heaving, knuckles white against the railing as he watched the pirate ship vanish into the horizon.

his mind was a storm. rage and disbelief crashing together in violent waves, drowning out every other thought. blood dripped from his temple, warm as it trailed down his cheek. his lip was split. his ribs ached from where the pirate had landed a brutal hit, but he barely felt it. pain was a distant thing, muted beneath the sheer force of his anger.

because she was gone.

jiah was gone.

his fingers curled into fists.

these pirates.

his pirates.

the ones he had spent years hunting. the ones who had taken from him before, who had torn his brother from his grasp and left him chasing ghosts. the ones who had eluded him time and time again, slipping through his fingers like smoke.

and now—

now they had her.

his pulse roared in his ears, his breaths sharp and uneven as the weight of it all crashed down on him.

he should have seen this coming.

he should have known.

but instead, he had been standing there, distracted. caught up in the way she looked at him, in the way she felt in his arms, in the way she—

“you’re bleeding.”

the voice came from behind him, low and measured, slipping through the shadows like it belonged there.

seokjin didn’t flinch. didn’t turn.

yoongi.

of course he was here.

silent as ever, watching from the edges of the battlefield until the dust had settled.

“i’m fine,” seokjin bit out.

he wasn’t.

but that wasn’t the point.

yoongi stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until he was at seokjin’s side. his presence was grounding. cool in contrast to seokjin’s fire.

they stood in silence for a long moment, both of them watching the empty horizon.

then…

“this is dangerous,” yoongi said, voice calm but firm.

seokjin exhaled sharply through his nose. “don’t.”

yoongi didn’t move. “you know i’m right.”

seokjin finally turned to look at him, and the flickering torchlight cast shadows across his sharp features, highlighting the unwavering certainty in his expression.

yoongi wasn’t stopping him.

he was warning him.

and that only made seokjin’s resolve burn hotter.

"i don’t care."

yoongi sighed. “you’re thinking with your emotions.”

“and you’re acting like this isn’t personal.” seokjin’s voice was sharp, laced with something dangerous. “don’t pretend you don’t see it. these are the pirates. the same ones who took my brother.”

yoongi’s gaze didn’t waver. “i know.”

and he did.

but knowing and acting were two different things.

“this is different,” yoongi continued. “you’re letting it cloud your judgment.”

seokjin let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “so what? you expect me to just let them go?”

yoongi tilted his head slightly, studying him. “you’re not thinking. you’re reacting.”

seokjin’s jaw clenched.

of course he was.

how could he not?

yoongi had always been level headed, always approached things with cold precision, always saw things in ways that seokjin didn’t.

but right now,

right now, seokjin didn’t want to be logical.

not when every instinct in his body screamed at him to act.

“i’m going after her,” he said again, quieter this time but just as unshakable.

yoongi sighed, glancing away for the first time, as if weighing his words.

when he finally spoke, his voice was softer.

“this doesn’t end well for you.”

seokjin swallowed down the frustration rising in his throat. “i’m not asking for permission, yoongi.”

a pause.

“i know.”

because yoongi knew him.

and he knew there was no stopping this.

so instead, he simply let out another slow exhale before turning his gaze back to the horizon.

“…then let’s do this right.”

taehyung had already made his choice.

he made it the moment he saw jiah struggling in the pirate’s grasp, the moment he saw the sheer terror in her eyes before she disappeared into the night. he made it when he saw seokjin bleeding and furious, when he realized exactly who had taken her. when he realized it was his fault she was out there at all.

and now, as he crouched low behind a stack of cargo barrels, hidden in the shadows just beyond the docks, he made it again.

he wasn’t going to let her go alone.

his breath came shallow, heart hammering against his ribs as he watched the pirates load the last of their supplies onto the hwa yang yeon hwa. they moved quickly, efficiently, passing crates between each other like they had done this a hundred times before. the ship was grander than he expected. larger, sturdier, with massive sails that rippled in the night breeze.

his pulse quickened.

this was the king of thieves’ ship. the most feared pirate in all the seas. the one kingdom's had spent years hunting. the one he had spent months slipping information to in exchange for coin. the one whose crew he had thoughtlessly betrayed just hours ago.

the night was chaos.

taehyung had seen it all unfold from the shadows, his heart hammering as he ran through the palace corridors, trying to reach the figures in time. jiah had been on the balcony with the prince, and the moment he spotted the pirate ship on the horizon, dread coiled in his stomach.

he knew what was coming.

his breath was ragged as he sprinted through the open courtyard, dodging startled servants and guards rushing toward the commotion. he could hear shouting in the distance, clashes of steel, frantic orders barked into the night. the pirates were already the inside city. inside the walls. inside the palace.

his boots skidded against the marble floor as he turned the corner, his eyes locking onto the balcony just above. he saw seokjin there, saw the way he had turned toward jiah, his expression unreadable. but before he could scan the area for the pirate he saw, before he could even process the moment, before he could call out to her,

a dark figure emerged from the shadows.

no.

taehyung’s stomach dropped as he saw the glint of steel, the sharp movement of a hand snatching jiah’s wrist.

she barely had time to react before she was gone.

pulled back into the darkness.

the pirate moved too fast. one second, jiah had been standing there, her body tense with urgency, and the next, she had vanished.

taehyung felt something inside him snap.

“guards!” his voice was raw, desperate as he turned toward the palace entrance, his chest heaving. “the pirates—!”

the words barely left his lips before a hand slammed into his ribs.

taehyung choked on the impact as he was sent sprawling backward, his back hitting the cold stone with a dull thud. he gasped for air, but before he could recover, a shadow loomed over him.

not just any shadow.

him.

the man who moved like a phantom, the one who had always been a ghost of a warning in whispered rumors.

taehyung had never seen his face before, but he knew exactly who he was.

the man with the golden smile.

the pirate with the dead eyes.

the captain’s right hand.

jung hoseok.

a name few knew. the name had never been spoken aloud. he had only ever been a whisper. a nightmare that drifted through the seas like a curse.

taehyung barely had time to brace himself before hoseok struck again.

a fist slammed into his jaw, snapping his head to the side. pain exploded behind his eyes, but he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to move. he rolled before the next blow could land, scrambling to his feet just as hoseok lunged again.

steel flashed in the dim light.

taehyung ducked, just barely avoiding the wicked curve of a dagger aimed for his throat.

his breath came in short, sharp bursts as he stumbled back, trying to find an opening. but hoseok didn’t give him one.

the pirate was fast. unnaturally fast. he moved like water, fluid and merciless, each strike calculated, each attack meant to kill.

taehyung barely managed to deflect the next blow, using the hilt of a discarded sword to block the downward slash. the impact sent a shockwave up his arm, nearly numbing his fingers.

hoseok smiled.

it was a grin made of hunger.

“you’re in the way,” he murmured, voice almost playful. “run along, stable boy.”

taehyung snarled, shoving forward, forcing their blades apart. “where did you take her?”

hoseok cocked his head. “who?”

taehyung’s grip tightened.

“jiah.”

the name barely left his lips before hoseok moved.

too fast.

taehyung had no time to react before a knee slammed into his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. he doubled over, coughing, but before he could recover, a hand fisted into his hair, yanking his head back.

his vision blurred.

his pulse thundered.

cold steel pressed against his throat.

hoseok leaned in, his breath warm against taehyung’s ear.

“if you mean the princess, she’s already gone.”

taehyung froze.

gone.

he knew what that meant.

the ship.

the open sea.

he was too late.

hoseok must have seen the realization flicker in his eyes because he smiled again, that sharp, golden grin.

the pirate leaded in again, but before he could get out another word,

taehyung moved.

he twisted, ignoring the burn of the blade against his skin as he slammed his elbow into hoseok’s ribs, forcing him back. the moment the pressure lifted, he lunged.

hoseok barely had time to adjust before taehyung tackled him.

they crashed against the stone, grappling for control. fists connected, blades scraped, breathless grunts filled the air. taehyung fought with everything he had, fueled by nothing but raw desperation.

he had to get to jiah.

he had to.

but hoseok was a storm.

every move taehyung made, the pirate countered it effortlessly. every attack, every desperate swing, hoseok was already a step ahead.

and then, with one final strike, he knocked taehyung’s legs out from under him.

taehyung hit the ground hard, the impact rattling through his bones.

hoseok stood over him, breath steady, gaze unreadable. his dagger gleamed under the lantern light, poised for the final blow.

taehyung didn’t close his eyes.

he glared.

hoseok hesitated.

just for a second.

“intruders!”

the shout rang through the air, followed by the sound of approaching guards.

hoseok sighed. “tsk.”

taehyung barely had time to blink before the pirate stepped back, spinning his dagger once before tucking it away.

“this was fun,” hoseok mused, already retreating. “let’s do it again sometime.”

and then like smoke he was gone.

swallowed by the shadows.

leaving nothing behind but the sting of defeat.

hoseok had every intention to kill him right there.  taehyung knew every interacting with any pirates, not only just the crew of the hwa yang yeon hwa, was a death sentence.

and yet, here he was, about to step onto the very ship he had sold out.

if they recognized him, if any of them knew who he was—

he swallowed hard and shoved the thought away.

he couldn’t think about that now.

instead, he focused on the movement of the crew, the patterns in their steps, the brief moments when their backs were turned. he had grown up learning how to move unnoticed, how to be quick and silent when slipping into places he had no business being. now, that skill was the only thing keeping him from a blade to the throat.

he waited until one of the pirates, a lanky man with a thick beard, ducked below deck, then moved swiftly toward the crates stacked near the gangplank. he kept low, footsteps soundless as he crept closer.

just a little further…

“oi! get those barrels tied down!” someone barked nearby.

taehyung froze, pressing himself against the wood as heavy boots stomped past him. the pirate, one of the taller ones, with a scar down his arm, grumbled under his breath as he grabbed a length of rope and set to work.

taehyung didn’t breathe until he was gone.

his fingers curled against the rough wood of the crate. keep moving.

he darted forward again, slipping into the shadow of the main mast just as another pirate stepped onto the deck. this one was shorter, stocky, with sharp eyes that swept over the crew. taehyung held his breath, heart thudding as he ducked behind a stack of coiled rope.

“all set?” the stocky pirate called out.

“aye,” another voice answered.

“then we sail before dawn.”

shit.

taehyung had been hoping for more time.

but there was no turning back now.

he stayed crouched in his hiding spot, scanning the deck for an opening. he needed to blend in, to make himself look like he belonged. he had spent enough time around the docks to know how pirates moved, how they carried themselves. he just needed the right moment to slip in among them.

his opportunity came faster than he expected.

a fight broke out near the bow. two pirates shoving each other over a lost bet, voices rising in drunken anger. the distraction was all taehyung needed. while the others turned to watch, he grabbed a stray length of rope, looped it around his shoulder, and strode across the deck like he had every right to be there.

no one stopped him.

his heart pounded in his throat as he moved toward the rigging, pretending to busy himself with knots. his hands weren’t as steady as he wanted them to be, but no one paid him any mind. as long as he kept his head down, as long as he acted like he knew what he was doing, he could blend in.

and so, he did.

as the minutes passed, the tension in his shoulders eased. the ship came alive around him. pirates hauling barrels below deck, tying sails, sharpening blades. no one questioned his presence.

but that didn’t mean he was safe.

his eyes darted toward the captain’s quarters, toward the place where he assumed jiah had been taken. he hadn’t seen her since she was dragged aboard. he didn’t know if she was hurt. he didn’t know anything.

but he would.

he had promised himself that much.

“i’ll protect her,” he murmured under his breath, gripping the rope tighter.

no matter what.

the ship rocked gently beneath her feet, but jiah barely noticed. her hands were bound, her wrists aching from the rough rope that cut into her skin, and her heart was still hammering in her chest from the chaos of the last hour. her breath came too fast, uneven and sharp, as she glared at the man in front of her.

"you have the wrong girl."

he didn’t look convinced. in fact, he looked downright amused. the dim lantern light cast shadows over his sharp features, highlighting the curve of his smirk, the flicker of something dangerous in his dark eyes.

"do i?" he mused, tilting his head. "you were on the balcony, weren’t you? dressed all nice, tucked away in the palace. the prince certainly seemed to think you were worth throwing hands over."

her stomach twisted. prince seokjin. she had no idea what had happened after jong-something had dragged her away, but she could still see the fury in seokjin’s eyes, the way he had fought to get to her. she didn’t want to think about what he might do next.

"that doesn’t mean i’m the princess," she snapped, shaking her head. "yiseo is the one you want. i’m just…i’m just her maid."

he let out a low whistle, leaning against one of the wooden beams. "that’s a new one. you expect me to believe the prince of gunseok was willing to bleed over a maid? come on, princess, give me some credit."

she let out a strangled noise of frustration, yanking at her restraints. "i am not—" she stopped herself, forcing a breath through her nose. "i am not a princess. i was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. let me go, and you can still fix this."

he raised an eyebrow, as if considering, before he pushed off the beam and strode toward her. jiah took an instinctive step back, but the wall of the ship’s cabin stopped her short. he was close now, too close, his presence overwhelming in the small space.

"hmm." his eyes roved over her, not in a leering way, but in something sharper. assessing, peeling back layers she didn’t want anyone to see. "well, i gotta admit, princess, you don’t seem like much of a liar. but you see, that’s not my problem. we were told to take the girl on that balcony, and that girl was you. so, either the prince was mooning over his maid—" his lips quirked like the idea was ridiculous "—or you’re lying through your teeth. and between you and me? i don’t think it really matters."

her fingers curled into fists. "what do you mean, it doesn’t matter? you took the wrong girl!"

he grinned, all sharp edges and reckless confidence. "maybe. but you’re still leverage. and leverage is leverage, no matter what name it comes with."

jiah’s heart sank. she had been hoping, foolishly, that he might actually listen to reason. but of course, that had never been an option, had it? pirates didn’t care about reason. they cared about profit. advantage. power.

she lifted her chin, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. "if you think prince seokjin will trade the princess for me, you’re wrong."

he hummed, considering. "we’ll see about that. but in the meantime—" his hand shot out, fingers brushing her chin, tilting her face up. "—i think i like you better than some spoiled princess, anyway."

she jerked away from his touch, glaring. "don’t touch me."

he chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "easy, princess. just getting a good look at the prize we hauled in. wouldn’t want to underestimate our catch, now, would we?"

before she could spit out another retort, the cabin door creaked open, and another pirate poked his head in. "captain wants to see her. now."

jiah swallowed. kim namjoon. the real captain of this ship. he may have been one of the main love interests in the novel but that took chapters to get to. and that was yiseo’s relationship with him.  she was just some girl, not  a princess.  what the captain would do to her once he found out sent a chill through her. 

her captor gave a lazy shrug. "looks like you’ve got an audience with the king of thieves himself. let’s go, princess. wouldn’t want to keep him waiting."

jiah didn’t move at first. she was still trying to process everything, still grappling with the absurdity of it all.

she had been at the palace, safe, out of the way. now she was on a pirate ship, surrounded by criminals who thought she was worth something.

except she wasn’t.

she wasn’t even a royal maid.

let alone a princess.

she was not important.

not someone people fought wars over.

but these pirates didn’t believe her. or maybe, they just didn’t care.

"didn’t you hear him?" her captor said, nudging her forward with the hilt of his sword. "captain’s waiting."

jiah swallowed down the sharp retort on the tip of her tongue. fighting back now wouldn’t help. if she wanted to survive this, she had to be smart. had to think.

so she took a breath and let herself be led out of the cabin.

the ship was bigger than she had expected. lanterns swung from the masts, casting golden light over the deck, where men moved about with an ease that told her they had been at sea for a long, long time. the scent of salt and wood and something burning filled her lungs.

but more than anything, it was the sound of the ocean that unnerved her.

endless. inescapable.

there was no getting off this ship unless they allowed it.

the pirate leading her didn’t say anything as he guided her toward the center of the deck, where a man stood waiting.

he was taller than the others, broad-shouldered and calm in a way that felt dangerous. his dark coat billowed slightly in the breeze, and when he turned, the flickering lantern light caught on the sharp planes of his face.

captain namjoon.

he looked at her for a long moment, expression unreadable.

"so," he said, his voice smoother than she expected. "this is the girl the prince fought for?"

her captor chuckled. "not what you were expecting, captain?"

namjoon hummed, crossing his arms. his gaze drifted over her, slow and deliberate, before he tilted his head.

"what’s your name?"

jiah hesitated.

she didn’t want to give him anything. but lying, lying could make things worse.

"jiah," she said finally, forcing her voice to stay steady.

"jiah," namjoon echoed, testing the name. then, his lips quirked slightly. "you don’t look much like a princess."

"because i’m not," she snapped, the frustration bubbling up again. "you took the wrong girl."

namjoon’s expression didn’t change. "is that so?"

"yes! the real princess is still at the ball, not me."

namjoon glanced at the pirate who had dragged her here. "what do you think?"

"she swears up and down that we got the wrong one," he said, smirking. "but i say, if she was in the prince’s arms, she’s worth something."

jiah clenched her fists. "i was not in his—" she cut herself off with a frustrated exhale. "prince seokjin doesn’t care about me like that."

namjoon raised a brow. "then why did he fight for you?"

"because…" she hesitated.

because he’s a good man. because he wouldn’t let someone be taken, no matter who they were.

but she didn’t know how to explain that in a way these men would understand.

"he just did," she muttered instead, looking away.

namjoon studied her a moment longer. then, without looking back at his men, he said, "put her below deck. we’ll figure out what to do with her later."

the pirate beside her tsked. "so cold, captain."

"don’t test me, jeon," namjoon said, his voice even.

jeon.

jiah glanced up at the man beside her, the one who had fought seokjin, who had smirked his way through the whole thing.

jeon.

she didn’t know what that meant, but she knew one thing, she hated him.

and she had a feeling this was far from over.

the pirate, jeon, grinned like he knew exactly what she was thinking. like he could see the way her shoulders had tensed, the way her jaw had clenched, the way she was already bracing for the next round of whatever game he was playing.

"below deck it is," he said, gripping her arm again and steering her toward the stairs. "don’t worry, princess. i’ll make sure you get a real warm welcome."

"don’t call me that," she snapped, yanking her arm away.

"what, princess?" his smirk widened, eyes dancing with amusement. "but it suits you so well."

she wanted to hit him.

no, she wanted to throw him overboard.

but she had to be smart. had to be careful.

so instead, she swallowed her frustration and focused on where he was leading her.

the air grew damp as they descended into the belly of the ship. the wood creaked underfoot, and the scent of salt and something musty filled her nose. the lantern light barely reached the lower levels, casting long, flickering shadows against the walls.

he led her past rows of barrels and crates, deeper into the dimly lit corridor. finally, he stopped in front of a heavy wooden door and pushed it open.

"home sweet home," he said, gesturing for her to step inside.

jiah hesitated.

the room was small, barely more than a storage space. a single cot sat in one corner, a single lantern flickered against the wall, and there was little else.

her gut twisted.

this was a cell.

not in the traditional sense. there were no iron bars, no chains, but it didn’t matter. the door was thick, the lock heavy, and she knew without testing it that she wasn’t getting out of here on her own.

jeon must have seen the realization settle over her because he let out a low chuckle.

"what’s wrong, princess? not quite as nice as your palace chambers?"

"i wouldn’t know," she muttered, stepping inside.

his smirk faltered for just a second. just long enough for her to see something flicker in his eyes. confusion, maybe. curiosity.

then, just as quickly, it was gone.

"well," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "you’d better get comfortable. we’ve got a long journey ahead of us."

she lifted her chin. "where are you taking me?"

he grinned. "now, if i told you that, it’d ruin the surprise."

she glared. "you can’t just—"

he shut the door in her face.

jiah let out a sharp breath, her hands curling into fists at her sides.

then, slowly, she turned and leaned against the door, pressing her forehead against the wood.

she was trapped.

alone.

on a pirate ship, heading to gods knew where. and no one—not the prince, not taehyung, not yiseo, not anyone—knew where to find her

the ship rocked steadily beneath jungkook’s feet, the kind of gentle sway that most men would stumble against, but to him, it was second nature. the crew moved around him in the low lantern light, voices murmuring as they secured lines and checked their haul. the night smelled of salt and smoke, the remnants of their raid still clinging to their skin.

it should have felt like a victory.

they had the girl.

the job was done.

so why did he feel so goddamn restless?

he exhaled sharply, rolling his sore shoulder, wincing as the bruises from the fight with the prince made themselves known. the guy had put up more of a fight than expected, not that it mattered. jungkook had still walked away with the prize, and the prince had been left bleeding in the dust.

that should have been the end of it.

but then the water shifted.

jungkook felt it before he saw it.

a ripple, unnatural and deliberate, cutting through the waves.

his fingers twitched toward his blade, but he didn’t draw it. not yet.

because he knew what this was.

knew who this was.

the water stilled for half a breath, then split apart in a violent surge.

a figure emerged, breaking through the surface with an ease that defied logic, water cascading from his body as he gripped the side of the ship. the moon caught on pale skin, silver hair clinging to sharp features, dark eyes glinting like the ocean itself.

jimin.

jungkook’s smirk was instant. "about time you showed up."

the siren said nothing.

just stood there, perched on the ship’s edge, water pooling at his feet.

his gaze swept across the deck, scanning the crew, the ship, everything.

until his eyes landed on jungkook.

and didn’t move.

something was off.

jungkook tilted his head. "you missed all the fun. palace was a mess, but we got what we came for." he nodded toward the lower deck, where their prize was being held. "princess is below. safe and sound."

still, jimin didn’t react.

his stare was steady, unreadable, and it sent something uneasy skittering down jungkook’s spine.

then, finally…

"where is she?"

his voice was quiet. too quiet.

jungkook blinked. "who?"

jimin’s expression didn’t change.

"the girl."

jungkook’s fingers curled at his sides. "the princess?"

"not the princess."

the words were sharp. final.

jungkook felt his pulse spike.

jimin stepped forward, slow, deliberate, bare feet making no sound against the wood. water still dripped from his form, but it wasn’t natural. not the way it should have been. the droplets shimmered, catching the lantern light too easily, defying the way water should behave.

jimin was calm. too calm.

and jungkook had seen him rip men apart while wearing that same expression.

"her," jimin said simply.

and jungkook knew exactly who he meant.

jiah.

the weight of it settled in his chest, heavy and certain, as the realization sank in.

they had taken the wrong girl.

and the siren wasn’t happy about it.

jungkook’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. the air between them felt electric, charged with something he couldn’t quite place, something beyond just the usual tension that came with jimin’s presence.

"you're gonna have to be more specific," he said, keeping his voice even, casual, though his instincts were screaming at him to be careful.

jimin’s eyes didn’t waver. "the girl. the one who doesn’t belong in this world."

jungkook felt something cold settle in his chest.

"you mean the maid?" he scoffed, forcing out a laugh, even though it didn’t feel right in his throat. "you’re kidding, right? you came all the way here, stormed onto the ship, just to ask about her?"

jimin tilted his head, water dripping from his chin. the moonlight made his features eerily sharp, almost too perfect, like he wasn’t something meant for this world.

"she’s not just a maid," jimin murmured.

jungkook rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the way those words sent something uneasy crawling up his spine. "right. because you would know, wouldn’t you?" he took a step closer, arms crossing over his chest. "what, she make some kind of deal with you? promise you something in exchange for her life?"

jimin just stared at him, expression unreadable.

jungkook let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. "look, whatever weird little thing you’ve got going on with her? it doesn’t matter. she’s leverage now. and if she’s not the princess, she’s still valuable."

jimin finally blinked, slow and deliberate. "to you," he said softly. "but not to them."

jungkook stilled.

because that, that was the problem, wasn’t it?

he knew namjoon. knew how the captain operated. if jiah wasn’t useful, if she wasn’t worth a ransom,

she wouldn’t last long.

jungkook’s jaw clenched.

he didn’t know why the thought of that bothered him, didn’t know why the idea of her being cast aside so easily made his pulse spike.

"why do you care?" he finally asked, voice quieter than he meant it to be.

jimin’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "because she doesn’t belong here," he repeated. "and neither do you."

jungkook felt that like a strike to the ribs.

but before he could open his mouth, before he could push back, before he could say anything at all—

jimin turned.

and walked away.

jungkook stood outside the door longer than he meant to, jimin’s words still rattling around in his head.

"she doesn’t belong here. and neither do you."

he scoffed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. what the hell was that supposed to mean?

jimin was always like this, mysterious, unreadable, acting like he knew things no one else did. but he never cared about anything outside of himself, never involved himself in anything unless it benefited him.

so why was this different?

why did he care about her?

jungkook rolled his shoulders, shaking off the thought as he pushed open the door to the small cabin.

his eyes immediately landed on her.

jiah was sitting on the edge of the cot, back straight, arms crossed over her chest like some kind of wounded animal, cornered, but ready to bite. her hair was a little messy from the struggle earlier, but her gaze was sharp, piercing, like she’d been waiting for him.

the second he stepped inside, she scoffed. “oh, look. the kidnapper returns.”

jungkook smirked, letting the door shut behind him. “miss me already, princess?”

her fingers twitched, resisting the urge to throw something at him. "i told you. i’m not a princess.”

“sure, sure.” his tone was easy, unconcerned. “but you keep saying that like it actually matters.”

jiah’s jaw clenched. “it does matter. you kidnapped the wrong person.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "wrong person, right person... doesn’t really change anything for you, does it?" he tilted his head. “so tell me, princess, who exactly are you supposed to be, then?"

her mouth opened, but she hesitated. who was she supposed to be?

back home, she had been nothing special. just another university student barely scraping by, just another face in the crowd. and here, here she was even less. a maid with no power, no status, no future.

except now, somehow, she was this.

stolen. mistaken for someone important. caught in something so much bigger than herself.

she exhaled sharply. "i'm no one. just a maid."

he stared at her for a long moment, like he was waiting for the punchline.

then, to her frustration, he just laughed.

"right," he said, shaking his head. "because maids always find themselves in the middle of royal brawls, wearing fancy dresses, getting dragged away by pirates. yeah, sure."

"you did drag me away," she snapped.

"and yet," he mused, tapping a finger against his chin, "your precious prince was ready to burn the world down for you."

her stomach twisted. seokjin. she had no idea what had happened after this pirate had torn her from the balcony. but she could still see the fury in the prince’s eyes, the way he had fought to get to her.

"he was just…he thought i was someone else."

jungkook's smirk sharpened. "did he?"

jiah hated the doubt curling in her gut.

he took a step closer, slow and deliberate. "i gotta say, princess, i’m a little curious now. because if you’re just some random maid, then what exactly were you doing up there? why was the prince looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered?"

"i told you," she said, voice tight, "it was a mistake."

jungkook clicked his tongue, his dark eyes glinting with something unreadable. "well, doesn’t really matter, does it?"

she tensed. "what do you mean?"

he leaned in slightly, just enough for her to feel the warmth radiating off of him, for her to be reminded of just how trapped she was.

"i mean," he murmured, "whether you're a princess or a maid, you’re still leverage. and leverage is leverage, no matter what name it comes with."

her pulse stuttered.

he didn’t care. he never cared.

her fingers curled into fists. "if you think the prince will try and save me you’re wrong."

he hummed, unconcerned. "we’ll see about that."

then he turned, already making his way toward the door.

jiah swallowed down her frustration, forcing herself to steady her breath. her mind was spinning, but one question pushed its way to the front.

"wait."

he paused, one hand on the doorframe. he glanced back at her, brow raised in mild curiosity.

she hesitated, but then squared her shoulders. "what’s your name?"

for a moment, he just looked at her, as if weighing whether he even wanted to humor the question. then, slowly, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"why?" his voice was light, teasing. "planning on calling it out in your sleep?"

her glare was instant. "so i know who to curse when i get out of here."

he let out a low chuckle, clearly entertained. "cute."

she said nothing, just crossed her arms and waited.

finally, he exhaled through his nose, tilting his head. "let’s just say you can call me whatever you like, princess. but i wouldn’t get too attached."

before she could press further, he stepped out and shut the door behind him, leaving her seething in the candlelit cabin.

the ship rocked beneath her, but jiah barely noticed. she was finally able to free her hands, fingers curling into trembling fists at her sides, her pulse still racing from the chaos of the night.

she had just started to feel some sense of familiarity with this world before being ripped away from what she knew. the palace had been strange at first. too grand, too structured, too full of unspoken rules she hadn’t been prepared to navigate. but she had been adjusting, slowly finding her footing. even as a maid, even in the shadow of a princess, she had begun to make sense of her place.

and now, just like that, it was gone.

she swallowed hard, pressing a hand to her temple. but at least yiseo was safe.

the thought grounded her, even as a fresh wave of unease curled around her ribs. she could picture it so clearly: yiseo standing beside seokjin, untouched by all of this, safe in his arms. wasn’t that how things were supposed to be? the princess and her prince, together in the end. it was a cruel sort of relief, knowing that if someone had to be taken, at least it hadn’t been her.

but that didn’t make this any easier to accept.

jiah’s gaze flickered to the heavy wooden door, then to the small, circular window near the ceiling. her shoulders slumped. she had already checked, too high up to be of any use, and even if she could reach it, she had no idea how far up they were from the water. would she survive the fall? could she even swim against the pull of the sea?

her stomach twisted. none of it mattered. she wouldn’t be able to escape just yet.

sighing, she let her back hit the wooden wall behind her, arms crossing tightly over her chest. she didn’t know what would happen next, and that uncertainty made her skin itch. the pirates had no reason to listen to her, no reason to believe she wasn’t who they thought she was.

because who would a prince bleed for, if not his princess?

seokjin had fought for her.

and she…she had let herself believe, just for a second, that maybe—

she clenched her jaw. no. she couldn’t afford to think about that now.

the sound of footsteps echoed just outside her door, and she exhaled sharply through her nose, already irritated. she turned, arms dropping to her sides as she prepared for another round of arguing.

“back so soon?” she bit out, her voice laced with frustration. “i thought you had better things to do than—”

but the words died in her throat.

because it wasn’t him.

standing in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow of lantern light, was someone else entirely.

silver hair. ethereal features. eyes that seemed to pierce right through her.

the siren.

jiah felt her breath catch, her stomach twisting as a familiar, explainable sense of dread settled deep in her bones.

he looked just the same as he did a few nights ago. his beauty was unnatural, something carved from moonlight itself. his presence was overwhelming, too much to take in at once, and yet jiah couldn’t look away. his shimmering blue hair framed his delicate, almost unearthly features, catching the dim light in a way that made him glow.

and yet he so eerily was familiar. not like she had encountered him before, but like her soul knew him. 

this wasn’t just a siren’s natural allure, mesmerizing those around them. no, this was different. the moment his gaze locked onto hers, something inside her twisted. like she was remembering something long buried, something she had no right to recall.

his lips parted slightly, as if he was about to speak, but he only stared.

the pirate had been dangerous in an obvious way, all sharp smiles and reckless confidence. but this? this was something else entirely.

she swallowed hard, pulse hammering against her ribs.

“who are you?” she asked, voice quieter than she meant it to be.

he didn’t answer right away. instead, his gaze swept over her, slow and deliberate, like he was searching for something. and then, softly, his voice curled through the air like the whisper of the tide.

“jiah...”

her breath hitched. it was the same voice she heard each night since coming here.  the same voice that lured her to sleep and haunted her dreams. the way he said her name sent a chill through her. it wasn’t just recognition, it was something deeper, something knowing.

she took a step back, barely realizing she had moved. “how do you know my name?”

his expression remained unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something sharp, something relentless.

“do you remember me?”

jiah’s fingers curled into fists. her heart pounded, something clawing at the back of her mind. she shook her head. “no.”

his lips curved slightly, the faintest ghost of a smile, but there was nothing warm about it.

“you’re lying.”

she sucked in a sharp breath. “i’m not.”

he took a step closer, and she instinctively moved back. but there was nowhere to go. the wooden wall pressed against her spine, trapping her in place as he advanced, slow and steady, like the pull of the tide.

the air between them crackled with something unspoken. something ancient.

“i see it in your eyes,” he murmured, tilting his head as if studying her. “you may not want to admit it, but your body is betraying you.”

jiah’s breath quickened, her pulse a frantic drumbeat in her chest. she wanted to deny it, wanted to tell him he was wrong, that she had never met him before.

but the way her skin prickled, the way her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of his voice,

she couldn’t.

“what do you want?” she managed, barely above a whisper.

his gaze darkened, something unreadable passing over his face.

“to remind you.”

before she could respond, his hand lifted, fingers brushing the back of her wrist. the touch was feather-light, barely there, but it sent a shock through her system, something deep and primal awakening in her veins.

memories she couldn’t quite grasp, sensations she couldn’t explain, they rose up inside her, clawing their way to the surface.

jiah gasped, her body betraying her as her breath hitched, her skin burning where he touched her.

this was just like the other night, jiah thought. she knew she needed to break free out of this trance, break away from the siren. yet she couldn’t.

“you feel it, don’t you?” his voice was low, rougher now, tinged with something almost possessive.

she did. and that terrified her more than anything.

“let me go,” she whispered.

he only smiled, tilting his head slightly as his fingers trailed up her arm, sending shivers through her entire body.

“why?” he asked softly. “when you’ve been searching for me all along?”

jiah’s mind screamed in protest, but her body leaned closer, drawn to him in a way she couldn’t fight.

because somehow, impossibly, she knew

he wasn’t wrong.

the moment his fingers brushed against her skin, the world tilted.

a rush of heat, a sharp inhale, jiah barely had time to register the spark that shot up her arm before something inside her unraveled.

not just the memory of their first encounter. not just the dreams that haunted her each night. something deeper. something ancient.

salt on her tongue. wind in her hair. the crash of waves against the shore. and him. silver-haired, otherworldly, eyes dark as the abyss, dragging her under without mercy.

it had felt like a dream for so long, the way she stood at the edge of the sea, the moon casting its glow over endless water. how he had emerged from it like something carved from the tide itself, bare-chested, skin glistening, lips curled in something between amusement and hunger.

how he had whispered her name like a promise. like a claim.

jiah...

the memory hit her all at once. the way his hands had skimmed over her waist, his touch featherlight but searing. how his lips had ghosted over hers, teasing, testing, before dragging her into a kiss that burned through every fiber of her being. soft at first, then deeper, hungrier. his fingers tangling in her hair, her body melting against him, helpless against the way he pulled her in.

his touch had been fire and ice, hands mapping every inch of her as if memorizing her shape, pressing her back against the wet sand, the ocean lapping at their feet. she could still feel it, the way his lips had trailed down her throat, the way her breath had hitched when he murmured against her skin, words she hadn't understood then but felt in her very soul.

but dreams weren’t supposed to feel like this. weren’t supposed to leave her trembling, her skin aching with the ghost of something she swore had never happened.

except it had.

her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out everything else as she stared up at him now, standing right in front of her, real, tangible, impossible.

his gaze swept over her, slow, deliberate, like he could see straight through her. like he knew exactly what she was remembering.

“you remember,” he murmured, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

jiah’s breath caught. she wanted to deny it. wanted to push him away. but her body betrayed her, the phantom touch of his hands still burning against her skin.

his fingers traced up her arm, a whisper of a touch, and she shuddered.

“say it,” he coaxed, his voice low, intoxicating. “say you remember.”

her lips parted, her mind screaming at her to lie, to run, to do anything but fall into him the way she had before.

but before she could speak, before she could stop herself

his hand slid to her jaw, tilting her face up to his.

“you were searching for me,” he murmured, his breath brushing over her lips, so close she could taste the sea on him. “all this time.”

a shiver rolled down her spine, her body thrumming with something dangerously close to need.

bang.

a crash from the deck above. shouting. the spell shattered.

jiah jolted, sucking in a breath, the moment slipping through her fingers like sand.

his hand was still on her. his grip firm. unyielding.

the moment shattered, but the fire it had ignited inside her refused to die.

jiah’s breath came fast, shallow, her pulse hammering in her ears as the echoes of that dream,no, that memory, wrapped around her like a vice. the kiss, the touches, the way his body had pressed against hers, searing heat against the cold tide. it wasn’t just a fragment of her imagination. it had happened. somehow, somewhere.

but how?

another crash from above sent vibrations through the ship, muffled shouts breaking through the haze clouding her mind. jiah forced herself to move, to breathe, to focus on the present. on the siren standing inches away, watching her with an intensity that sent her stomach twisting.

his fingers hadn’t left her jaw, and she hated the way her skin tingled beneath his touch, like his very presence was rewriting something deep inside her.

“let me go,” she whispered, but it lacked the conviction she needed.

his lips quirked. “why?”

the question sent something sharp through her. she should be pushing him away, demanding answers, fighting to regain some sense of control. but the memory of his lips on hers was still fresh, lingering like the taste of salt on her tongue, and it terrified her how much she wanted to lean into it.

“because i don’t know you,” she said, forcing steel into her voice, even as her body betrayed her.

his expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes, something dangerous. something knowing.

“but you did.”

her throat tightened.

“no,” she said, shaking her head, trying to clear the fog threatening to pull her under. “i would remember—”

“you do,” he interrupted smoothly. “you just don’t want to.”

his grip on her jaw softened, fingers trailing down her neck, lingering at the base of her throat. her breath hitched at the contact, every nerve in her body going taut.

“you were mine,” he murmured, voice laced with something dark, something possessive. “and i was yours.”

a shiver rolled through her, heat pooling low in her stomach despite every part of her screaming to resist him.

this was wrong. this was impossible.

but the way his touch sent fire licking through her veins, the way his voice wrapped around her like a siren’s song—

she should run. should shove him away, should fight back, should do anything but stand here and let his presence consume her.

but then—

“jiah!” the voice wasn’t his. wasn’t the siren’s.

it was the pirate’s.

her stomach dropped.

the siren tensed, his gaze flickering toward the door just as it burst open.

the pirate stood in the doorway, his expression twisting from concern to something darker the second his eyes landed on the scene in front of him, jiah, cornered against the wooden wall, the siren’s fingers grazing the delicate skin of her throat.

for a split second, silence stretched between them. then the pirate moved.

fast.

before jiah could react, before the siren could turn fully, the pirate was there, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him away from her with enough force to send them both stumbling.

“get your hands off her,” the pirate growled, his voice low, dangerous.

the siren barely reacted, regaining his footing with unnatural grace, silver hair falling into his eyes as he met the pirate’s glare with something almost amused.

jiah’s heart pounded. the tension in the room was suffocating, thick with something unspoken.

the pirate’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his muscles tensed like he was barely restraining himself from launching at the siren again. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

the siren tilted his head, expression unreadable. “reminding her.”

the pirate’s jaw clenched.

“reminding her of what?” he bit out.

the siren’s gaze flickered back to jiah, unreadable and piercing all at once.

“who she belongs to.”

the pirate moved before the words even fully registered.

but this time the siren was ready.

the air snapped.

one second, the pirate was lunging, fists drawn, all fire and fury,

and the next, the siren moved with a grace that wasn’t human.

jiah barely registered what happened before the pirate was thrown back against the opposite wall, his back slamming against the wood with a force that rattled the room. he groaned, shaking off the daze, but the siren was already in front of him, pressing a hand to his chest, keeping him there with barely any force.

her breath caught, panic clawing at her throat as she watched her captor struggle against the invisible force holding him in place.

“you should be more careful,” the siren murmured, his voice like silk, too calm for the violence that had just unfolded. “humans are so... breakable.”

jiah moved before she could think.

“stop!” she gasped, reaching out, grabbing the siren’s wrist before she knew what she was doing.

the second her fingers wrapped around him, something crackled.

a jolt of heat, of something ancient and electric, surged between them.

the siren stilled.

the pirate sucked in a sharp breath.

jiah’s entire body burned.

she yanked her hand away, cradling it against her chest, panting like she’d been underwater too long.

the siren turned his head toward her, slow, deliberate.

“you felt that,” he said, and this time, there was no amusement. no taunting. only quiet certainty.

jiah’s heart pounded. she didn’t know what to say, what to think.

what to believe.

because she had felt it.

the same way she’d felt him in that dream, no memory.

the same way she had felt his lips on hers.

his hands on her skin.

his body pressing into hers beneath the pull of the tide.

“no,” she whispered, voice hoarse, barely audible. “it’s not real.”

the siren’s lips parted slightly, his gaze flickering over her face, like he was searching for something.

then—he smiled.

soft. knowing. almost fond.

“you can lie to yourself all you want,” he said, voice like a whisper of the tide, “but your body remembers, jiah.”

she inhaled sharply.

the pirate’s teeth clenched, still pinned against the wall. “get away from her.”

the siren exhaled through his nose, almost as if bored. then, finally he let the pirate go.

the invisible pressure lifted in an instant, and the pirate pushed himself forward, fists still clenched, eyes still burning.

the siren, however, barely spared him a glance. his attention remained on jiah, his gaze dipping briefly to her wrist where she had touched him before dragging back up to meet her eyes.

“i’ll see you soon,” he murmured, and it wasn’t a threat.

it was a promise.

then, before either of them could react,

he seemingly vanished into the night air.

the only evidence he had ever been there was the lingering heat on her wrist, the ghost of a touch she couldn’t shake.

the pirate was the first to move.

he turned to her, breathing hard, his expression clouded with something between frustration and concern.

“are you okay?”

jiah didn’t answer.

couldn’t.

because she wasn’t sure.

her pulse still pounded, her skin still burned.

her lips still tingled.

and deep inside her chest, beneath all the fear, the confusion, the denial,

something else stirred.

something that terrified her more than anything else.

recognition.

“you never told me your name.”

the words left her lips before she could stop them, a desperate attempt to break the silence that had settled between them.

the pirate turned his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting hers through the dim lantern light.

for a moment, he didn’t answer. then, finally,

“jungkook.”

the name curled through the air, rough, unfamiliar. but somehow, it fit him.

“jungkook,” she echoed, testing it on her tongue.

his lips quirked, just barely. “you say it like you’re trying to remember something.”

her fingers twitched. “maybe i am.” his expression shifted, something unreadable passing through his eyes before he spoke again.

“you were dreaming,” he said. “weren’t you?”

jiah sucked in a breath.

his voice was steady, but there was something sharper beneath it, something that made her stomach twist.

he knows.

she hesitated, then nodded.

jungkook’s gaze darkened. “and?”

she exhaled shakily. “it felt real.”

his jaw clenched, but he only nodded, like he had expected that answer.

“what did he do to you?”

jiah swallowed hard.

kissed me. touched me. made me feel things i don’t understand.

made me remember.

“i don’t know,” she lied instead.

jungkook’s stare was unrelenting.

“don’t lie to me.”

she bit her lip, looking away.

“it wasn’t like that,” she murmured. “he… he knew me. before. and i think…” she hesitated, the words thick on her tongue. “i think i knew him too.”

silence.

“his name is jimin.”

jiah’s head snapped up, her eyes widening.

jungkook didn’t look at her. his gaze was fixed on the floor, his fingers curled into his sleeves.

jimin.

the name felt like a key turning in a lock, like something sliding into place.

jimin.

she knew it.

not just from now, not just from tonight, from before.

jimin.

the siren.

the man who had kissed her like he had been waiting for an eternity.

jiah’s breath caught, her chest tightening with something she couldn’t name.

“how do you know him?” she whispered, but as soon as the words left her lips, she knew.

she knew the answer would be anything but simple.

jungkook didn’t answer right away.

he was staring past her, his jaw tight, his chest rising and falling in slow, controlled breaths, like he was trying not to let something slip.

when he finally spoke, his voice was steady. but there was something coiled beneath it, something sharp, waiting to strike.

"he's my brother."

jiah’s breath caught.

what?

her stomach twisted. that couldn’t be right.

"but—"

"not by blood."

the words came like a blade, slicing through whatever weak explanation she could have come up with. jungkook’s voice had lost all warmth, each syllable clipped, final.

"but that doesn’t matter."

jiah swallowed hard.

brothers.

jungkook and jimin, brothers.

it didn’t make sense.

but maybe that was because it wasn’t meant to.

she looked at jungkook again, at the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to curl them into fists. at the way his shoulders had gone rigid, his whole body tense with something unspoken.

his eyes, dark, bottomless, held something she couldn’t name. something dangerous. they weren’t just angry, weren’t just cold.

they were betrayed.

"we grew up together."his voice was quieter now, but no less strained."fought together. survived together."

he exhaled slowly, sharp and controlled, like he was keeping something buried beneath the surface.

"and now..."

his voice trailed off, but jiah could hear the weight of what he wasn’t saying.

when he looked at her again, his gaze had darkened—like the sea before a storm.

"i don’t know what we are."

her chest tightened.

because how could that be?

how could two people who had lived and bled and survived together end up like this. standing on opposite sides of something too vast to cross?

it made something in her ache.

because she knew that feeling.

she knew what it was like to lose someone without ever truly losing them.

and despite the warning in jungkook’s voice, despite the cold fire in his eyes, despite the fear curling low in her stomach,

she couldn’t shake the way she had felt in jimin’s arms.

the way he had looked at her. like he had been waiting for her. for so long.

jungkook let out a slow breath, raking a had over his face.

when he spoke again, his voice was quieter. but there was something sharper in it now. something almost possessive.

"just…" he hesitated, like he was still trying to convince himself of something. then, finally, his gaze snapped back to hers, locking her in place.

"stay away from him, princess."

her pulse stuttered

he wasn’t just asking her.

he was warning her. commanding her.

her lips parted, words catching in her throat.

because she wanted to say yes.

wanted to promise she would.

but she knew, deep down,

it was already too late.

authors note: hey guys ik i said it might be awhile until the next part but yall i had to finish this for you guys. my original plan was to have the last part and this one all be one chapter but as you can see there was just too much to say. im really excited to hear everyone's thoughts because so much happened in this chapter (i'm pretty sure every member was in this chapter) anyways thank you guys so much for reading, ily !!

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[justanotherarmyfangirl]

In Heat! 3/7

They're in heat, and you smell so hot...

Warning: 18+ smut, dubcon/noncon, hybrid!bts, dark yandere, predator/play, corruption, biting

You were struggling, but you remained there, still for Seokjin to use you. His perfect prey.

Nothing could stop him from taking you, sweet little sheep, too scared to move, frozen in fear and surprise, unable to look away from his penetrating eyes.

This tale was as old as time, a sheep and a wolf, a treat for a beast. You were...made for this, made for him.

You sat in a flowered field without a care, as if on display, as though you were waiting for him to come...

Centuries of evolution it took to bring you here, at his feet, pure and small and for the taking, skin smooth and easily bruised, eyes wide and full of innocence, body perfect fit to hide under him.

And Seokjin was a King of beasts. Muscular, towering, attractive, a magnet that lured in what he most desired. And what he wanted most was you, sweet and cute and easy to shatter.

He was a wolf in sheep's clothing, a lovely distraction for you. A smile that held fangs made you feel welcomed, made the heat rise in your cheeks at his attention.

He came closer to you.

Close enough to touch you, and he stayed there. He found ways to make you laugh, jokes to open you up, made moments where his gaze penetrated you so deeply your breath hitched and you looked at him in awe. He put a flower behind your tiny ear. You were so easy to fool.

Even when his cloak fell down, revealed his true identity, pointed ears that marked his evil nature, you were too naive to see Seokjin for what he was, you were too consumed in his beauty. You giggled and exclaimed, "What big ears you have!"

When his large hands roamed your body you tensed, cried tiny high pitched whines. A melody to his ears, you were a song he wanted to listen to forever. He wanted to draw out every bit of this treatment...torture he had planned for you.

He held you down, claws digging into your tresses, and took his time listening to your singing. His pressed his digits into the warmth of your mouth, widening you for more of him.

He was going to defile every innocent thing about you, tear you to pieces that only he knew how to put back together.

He made you choke, gag on his girth, he made you cry as he bruised your throat. He let your spit and tears slick his cock, feeding you his length. You didn't know how to fight him, if it was him his fangs would have torn through, but you were too innocent, you would never think to hurt him how he was hurting you, even when he fucked into you harder and faster, stealing every bit of your air.

His sharp claws dug into your beautiful hair, ripped into your ringlets, shearing your long hair, taking your beauty for his own. He hurt you, his act had broken another part of you, shattering your confidence.

Only when you were thoroughly used, your throat raw from friction, your face covered in drool, did he move on to his next breaking.

"My sweet little sheep, why don't you try to run away? It would be much more fun to catch you."

You shivered and laid under him too scared to move. His claws dug into your jaw, moving your head back so he could inspect the rest of your body. He let his grip rest on your neck, feeling your jumping pulse, gazing at your heaving chest. He placed his palm over your breast, kneading so roughly you cried out his favorite tune.

"P-Please don't hurt m-me."

"Oh, but I just want to hear you," he laughed, tongue rolling over his lip when he ripped away the sheer fabric concealing your body, claws catching skin and scratching marks across. His smile widened as you screamed, his eyes rolling back in satisfaction.

He broke you a third time, stealing the last bit of your innocence as he opened your legs and settled himself into you. You had no way to end the pain, his penetration was slow and agonizing. It felt like it would never end, like he would rip right through you until you'd split in two. It felt like you were tearing, dying! Seokjin was right, you were shattering in his grasp, and it only took his hard cock.

He bottomed out, rolling his hips into you to make you squeak and tremble, and then he set a brutal pace. You were going to be molded only to him, you would never be whole without him, and even if you crumbled around him, he would find a way to warp you to him still.

He grunted and groaned over you. You watched him not shatter, but contort, change; become wild in lust. Seokjin was a beast but he was devastatingly regal, unfairly so, because he had everything it took to be the noble prince you had believed he was, and yet he was just so villainous, selfish, using your body, breaking your body, turning savage-like in his conquest of you.

He pulled your hips to him, thrusting in wildly, contorting you and gripping you until your every muscle ached, tightened and tensed. His sharp teeth pierced into your breast, tongue licking your nipple. He bit you many more times before he was done with you, made sure to mark you as his.

He fucked you full of him, let your tired body take his seed, making sure not a drop was wasted. His digits stuffed you, four fingers moving in and out of your sex until you were writhing in his embrace.

That was how the beast devoured you.

You have become his favorite meal.

My version of little red riding hood ig heh KNJ | KSJ | MYG | JHS | PJM | KTH | JJK | BTS

[pascaloverx]

LAST LOVE — MYG

SUMMARY: You are about to become the Queen of Murak, a kingdom previously ruled by your father, the King. But there is something wrong with you, something your subjects must never suspect. You were born with powers, one of them being the ability to transform into a dragon. Because of a curse, you are condemned to be abnormal for the rest of your life. One of the only ways to alleviate your situation is by getting married. When Prince Yoongi offers to marry you, you feel there is a glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fanfiction will be a fantasy fanfic involving royalty. As the story progresses, a love triangle may develop, but for now, this fanfic will focus on Yoongi and the reader. This story will feature scenes of violence, fantasy, and romance. Inappropriate language will also be used, so minors should not interact with this fanfic. Other BTS members may appear in the fanfic. Taehyung will be an important character. I hope you engage with the fanfic and help it move forward.

PREVIEW

ONE

Your feet hit the ground hard as you feel the weight of your dress becoming increasingly difficult to bear. You feel as if your whole body is on fire as you walk towards your father's chambers. Prince Yoongi will be at the palace in a few moments, ready to officially request the marriage promise between you. The royal advisor, your father's right-hand man, knocks on the door and, after hearing the king's permission to enter, announces that you request the king's attention. Your life has always been like this, one formality after another. The only times you felt your parents were your superiors were when you dealt with your dragon side.

"My beloved daughter, I must emphasize that your beauty is radiant in that dress. I hope you have come here to bring good news." The King of Murak says, looking at you with a certain tenderness. The Queen is right behind him, looking at you with admiration.

"Certainly, it is good news. I have come to inform the King and Queen that I have found a suitor. He meets every necessary aspect to become a good ally. And before you, Your Majesties, react inappropriately to this news; I would like to inform you that he will be here soon to formalize our union." You play it strong. You know that, despite your parents being King and Queen, they also know that the throne will soon belong to you. And more importantly, that if you do not bond with a dragon rider soon, you will lose the ability to control yourself.

"My dear, our daughter, as insolent as she may seem, must have the final word on who will be bonded to her through the dragon and rider link. Unless you wish her dead. In that case, I suggest you pass the throne to another and end this right here." The Queen, with such subtlety, suggests that the King kill you. But the truth is, if you do not marry and bond with a dragon rider, you will end up turning into a dragon permanently. This would prevent you from being human and make you a target for the population.

"The Queen is right, Your Majesty. If you want me not to marry the one I choose, you will be indirectly killing me. After all, if the wrong person tries to bond with me, the end will be tragic for both of us. If you do not accept that I marry Prince Yoongi, then kill me." You try to be fearless. The reality is that familial love is not important to your family, so your father might actually kill you and put another on the throne.

"I would never kill my own flesh and blood. You are the only heir I have, which is why I tolerate your lack of decorum when speaking to your King. But I will accept this folly, considering that you will be able to control the monster within you. It is a pity that the Kingdom of Murak will lose the opportunity to have Prince Namjoon or Prince Jungkook as its rulers." The King speaks with authority as he laments. However, the princes he mentioned would never accept your dragon form so readily. They are responsible and have a bright future. Marrying a half-dragon wife would be unfortunate for them. Prince Yoongi, on the other hand, will be fortunate to have you as his wife.

Before you can think of a response, you are interrupted by the sound of the door opening. The royal advisor announces the arrival of Prince Yoongi, who enters immediately without being invited. You smile subtly, finding it interesting that Yoongi is as bold as you. The King, however, seems dissatisfied with the prince's behavior.

"Forgive me, Your Majesties, for the intrusion, but I was eager to begin the union of our kingdoms." Prince Yoongi says excitedly. He bows as if paying his respects to the King and Queen. Your parents seem ready to pretend to be pleased.

"There was a time when princes had the decency of waiting for the King to let them enter the royal chamber. These same princes would not have the audacity to ask a princess to marry without the King's authorization." The King says with some contempt. Yoongi smiles awkwardly and then extends his hand towards the King. They wave their hands and you know you'll get what they want.

"In my defense, your daughter proposed marriage. But I recognize my rudeness. I hope the King and Queen can give permission for our marriage." Yoongi says as he goes to his mother and kisses her hand, gently.

"My husband and I are pleased to know that our daughter will be getting married. But we are concerned about your commitment. After all, the Princess of Murak needs a husband worthy of her and who understands the sacrifices that this union will require." Your mother says imperiously. You smile, finding it amusing that she speaks of sacrifices. She is the one who cursed your existence by bringing you into the world, knowing you would become a dragon.

"Your Majesty, your beautiful daughter has instructed me on every essential detail to make our marriage as beneficial as possible. I believe that if the King gives his blessing, our wedding can happen as soon as possible." Yoongi speaks in such a casual tone, as if marrying you were a simple task. Your father looks at him with pity. It is what you expected; of course, your father pities the poor soul who will bear the burden of your secret with you. But he has no pity for his daughter who, in addition to dealing with a curse that is not hers, must also bear the weight of the crown.

"Prince Yoongi of the Kingdom of Cirrus is officially betrothed to Princess Y/N of the Kingdom of Murak. May your union not be a complete disaster. Now, if you will excuse me, my kingdom needs my attention." Your father speaks with a tone of anger in his voice. But he has given his blessing. Looking into Yoongi's somewhat frightened eyes, the King then storms out of his own chamber. Your mother touches your hand, looking at you with a regretful expression. Your mind wonders if she regrets the situation she put you in or if she regrets you being this way. An imperfect daughter. But the only legitimate heir.

"Congratulations on your upcoming union. The next step is to obtain the blessing of the King of Cirrus. After that, we will hasten the wedding. Now, I need to go calm the King of Murak. I suggest you two get to know each other a little better." Your mother speaks, looking more at Yoongi than at you. I bet she wants him to be sure of what he's doing. She then leaves, leaving you and Yoongi alone.

"If I bring one of the strongest drinks from the palace, will you accompany me to the forest again?" you ask, glancing at Yoongi after a moment of awkward silence fills your parents' chamber. He looks at you a bit surprised but smiles slightly while nodding in agreement.

"I'll dismiss my guards and meet you in the forest. Bring the drink," Yoongi says near your ear as you leave the King's chambers. When you turn to look at him, he's already running. Surely, your marriage won't be boring, since your fiancé seems quite spirited. You then descend the stairs, accompanied by some guards, and head to the wing of the palace where the cellar is located. You take one of the best drinks stored by your father. At this moment, you feel you deserve to drink this. Stealthily, you hide it using your hood to cover the bottle. You dismiss the kingdom's soldiers as you always do when entering the forest. You run to the place where you last transformed into a dragon, finding a bored Yoongi sitting under a tree.

"I brought your drink, future husband," you say as you approach Yoongi, who quickly stands up to go to you.

"Your parents are a bit too tense. And my father is the king of stress. Now I understand why you chose me. We both have parent issues. At least with mine, I know I provoke them, but I feel sorry for you." Yoongi says as he takes the bottle and the glass from your hands. You smile subtly, but you feel embarrassed that he noticed your family problems.

"No one will ever know how the King and Queen truly act in this kingdom. Because my parents only allow themselves to act the way they did just now when they are with me. It's one of the perks of being a burden to your parents. They didn't expect me to become a dragon. So they weren't prepared for it. But instead of lamenting our crappy parents, let's focus on why we're here." You speak as you begin to slowly undress, being watched by Yoongi who is drinking the alcoholic drink you brought. After taking a large sip of the drink, he drops the glass and the drink on the floor.

"Here in this kingdom, 'getting to know each other better' means something more advanced than in my kingdom. But I'm open to getting straight to the point; after all, why wait until the wedding night?" He talks about having fun with the possibility of sex, taking off part of his clothes too. You look at him and laugh.

"As flattered as I am that you think I want to jump on you right here, I'm just preparing to transform. I suggest you keep your clothes on." You say, trying not to be rude, as you found the scene amusing. Yoongi looks visibly uncomfortable but starts putting his clothes back on. He then drinks directly from the bottle.

"You made me believe I was striking gold, but tell me, what are we doing here? I don't think you just want to show me your dragon form." Yoongi says, regaining his composure. You finish undressing, leaving you down to your underwear. It's shameful but it will be part of your routine as a couple.

"Before we get married, I need you to be blessed by my dragon side. More precisely, I want you to try riding me while I'm in dragon form." You say, seeing him widen his eyes, impressed by the suggestion of riding you.

"What if you don't accept me? Will I become your food?" Yoongi asks, taking another sip of the drink, while his speech becomes groggy.

"It will be a risk for both of us. Take this risk with me, so we can proceed with this union. If my dragon form allows you to get this close, our marriage will be a success. But if not, we can forget about it." You say, looking at him almost pleadingly, hoping he will accept the idea. Revealing that your dragon form is not reliable is not ideal. No one wants to ride something that might burn them.

"Since we are testing the future of our marriage, I want you to test mine." Yoongi comes closer, and you can guess what his proposal will be. Anticipating it, you gently hold him by the neck and pull him into a kiss. The kiss was meant to be quick and efficient, but the taste of his lips captivates you. So you both deepen the kiss. The taste of alcohol intoxicates your mind, making you feel a certain comfort in kissing Yoongi. You remain with your lips intertwined, drawing closer to each other for a while, until you need to take a breath.

"I hope I’ve cleared up your doubts. Now let’s get to the part that matters." You say, catching your breath as you run in the opposite direction from Yoongi. As you run, embarrassed by having kissed him, you transform into your dragon form; flapping your wings and letting out a somewhat loud roar. Your head sways with your body as you search for Yoongi. He is still in the same place, standing still. Then you lower yourself, releasing a warm breath from your nostrils over him.

"Understood. I'll ride you, even if I die." Yoongi says, taking another drink and approaching you. He’s unsure of what to do, but when you feel his cold hands touching you and gently caressing you, you know he will try to mount you. So you lower yourself for him. Your dragon self accepts Yoongi. He seems to notice this, as he quickly climbs onto you. It’s as if he’s taken a dose of courage. And then, with him mounted on you, you flap your wings to fly with your future husband.

[staytinyville]

Stay Alive (36)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: none

A/N NOT BETA. This was supposed to be a smut but I struggled to do the last ones so no it did not turn into a smut. But just know that in my head they did do the do.

Getting to the mountains was not that hard. It was an easy and quick drive seeing as a lot of people were flying about as well. All the boys decided to tag along, Namjoon explaining to you that tomorrow you would go to visit his own family that were also waiting in Seoul. 

Some of the boys had called their own families, explaining that you were with them and they would be taking turns a day to spend time with you. You could hear their families crying and sobbing over the fact that their boys were home. They explained that after seeing Jin’s family they would be going back home and you would meet them later on. 

They wouldn’t tell you why it was that Jin’s family seemed to be important, but coming up to a large wall that had a palace hidden behind it made you wonder just how important he truly was. You stopped behind the man, moving around to look at his face. 

He swallowed thickly, tears pooling in his eyes as he looked up at the gates of the wall. His hands balled into fist to keep from crying out loud. You moved to grab one, slowly pulling his fingers out to fit them through yours.  

“Are you okay, Jin?” You asked him quietly. 

“It's been so long since I've been home.” He choked. “I don't know what to expect.”

“I'm sure you'll find your parents and siblings all waiting for you on the other side of the door.” Namjoon patted his older comrade on the back, giving him a reassuring smile. 

“I'm right here.” You told him, squeezing his hand just a bit. 

“We all are.” Jungkook spoke up from Jin’s other side, giving the older boy a large grin.

Jin nodded his head once, taking a step forward to reach the gate once more. As you all began to move forward, the guards stationed at the front were the first to take notice of you all. They waited for a moment as you reached them, about to ask what business you had with the family but suddenly did a double take as Jin in the front. 

They were large people with pig-like noses. Large teeth protruded from the bottom of their lips as they looked to be sabertooth like. There were many creatures you could think of at the moment but you couldn’t be too sure. You watched as their noses wiggled, taking a whiff of all of you just in case. 

“Your majesty?” One called, letting go of his stiff posture as disbelief painted his features. “Is it—Is it really you?” 

“It is him!” The other shouted, weapon falling to the floor as he began to hyperventilate. 

“By gods!” The first guard yelled, turning to the gates. “The crowned prince has returned!”

As the gates began to open up and a large palace in the mountain came into view, your eyes went wide as the guard shouted about Jin being the crowned prince. You quickly turned to the boy, looking at him incredulously. 

“What?” You spoke out loud. 

“Our Jinnie here is the elven prince of Korea.” Jimin gushed, poking the older man in the cheek as he hung off his shoulder. 

“You didn't tell me!?” You yelled, as all of you began to make your way into the palace too stunned to take notice of everything around you. 

“It's not like it was important in your world.” Jin shrugged, looking at you as if it was no big deal. 

“Jin!” You gasped about to scold him when you were stopped by four women walking up you. 

Your eyes went wide once more at how beautiful they all looked. Even dressed in large steel armor that clearly protected them while in battle made them look ethereal. 

“Your grace.” One began giving Jin a large smile. “It's such a great relief to have you back home.”

“Thank you, Solar.” Jin bowed his head, laughing a little at how happy he was to be home. 

The rest of the women smiled gratefully, giving Jin and the boys a pat on the back. They each introduced themselves to you; Solar, Moonbyul, Hwasa, and Wheein–their nicknames according to Jin. When they bowed onto their knees when they learned it was you who helped them get back home. 

You blushed of course, quickly telling them to get it. When all things were done, they began to lead you towards what you assumed to be the throne room. 

“Wow.” You quietly told yourself, following the girls. 

“They're Valkyries. Most royal families have them as personal guards.” Yoongi explained from the other side of you. 

“They've been here for as long as I can remember. They are a lot like me when it comes to their aging process.” Jin began to explain.

“How old are you really then?” You playfully asked, giggling as you saw the look on his face. 

“The oldest!” Taehyung giggled. 

“Ya! Don't be rude. I'm not that old.” Jin scolded the boy. 

Before they could continue to bicker more, Solar and Wheein opened up the large doors. You saw the thrones sitting directly in front on a stage. However, what you assumed to be the king and queen, were pacing in front of it. They immediately stopped when the doors opened, shoulders falling as they took you all in. 

“Seokjin?” The woman began to have tears fall from her eyes, slowly getting closer to Jin.

She slowly reached a hand out as she began to touch Jin’s pointed ears. Her lips trembled as she searched his face. A sob wracked through her body, pulling the tall boy in for a hug.

“Hi.” Jin sobbed out.

“My son has returned!” She cried out, fingers clenching onto Jin’s shirt tightly. “The gods have answered our prayers!” She turned to her husband, allowing him to hug Jin as well. 

“Boys!” Jin’s mother smiled even more when she saw the 6 other men behind Jin. “I'm so happy to see you all in good health.” She hugged each one, patting their cheeks and checking over for any injuries as she did with Jin.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Namjoon politely spoke up.

“Hello.” She stopped at you, wiping at her tears as she tried to keep her composure in front of you. “Who might you be?” She asked, eyes bright.

Jin pulled back from his father, turning to you. You smiled at him, reaching up to wipe at his tears out of instinct with your sleeve. Jin’s parents watched the interaction with a smile, his mother holding her hands together at her chest as she cooed quietly at you. 

“Mother. Father.” Jin pulled you to his side, holding your hand tightly with his. “This is our mate, (Y/N). She's the one who saved us.”

Jin’s mother reached out to hold your face between her smaller hands. You gave her a kind smile, bowing your head in respect. 

“Thank you for bringing my son back.” She told you, lip trembling as she rubbed at your cheek.

“Of course, your grace.” You answered. 

“Call me, mom.” She giggled, teasing you as she took a glance at Jin. 

You laughed at the blush that settled over the older man’s face, but you could tell that he didn’t want things to be different. You had just learned that Jin had lived a long life before being kidnapped so he must have known what it was like to be with your parents for a while. You didn’t know what things would be like for the younger boys but if Jin had spent so much time with his family things must have been hard for him. 

“We will have the cooks prepare a fantastic meal for you!” Jin’s father gushed, patting Jin’s back. “Oh, your brother will be so happy to see you again! He should be on his way! We shall celebrate this tremendous occasion that the crowned prince and his coven have returned.” He gave the boys all grateful smiles before turning to you. 

“And that he has finally found his mate.” He bowed his head towards you.

“We will announce it to the people soon.” Moonbyul spoke up,

“Tomorrow.” The king smiled at his guards. “For now, we wish to have our son. There is a lot we have to catch up on.”

And catch up you all did. You met Jin’s older brother, another tear-fest as the two brothers hugged. You learned about his time spent as the prince. You also learned why he was the crowned prince and not his older brother. Compared to his brother, Jin was the one more suited to be king because of the time he spent learning about it. His brother wanted to do other things while Jin understood that someone needed to be King and he was more than happy to take the spot. 

The other boys all took their leave to make it home before it got too dark. You would be staying the night with Jin and Namjoon would come to get you in the morning to take you to meet his family. 

The queen had sent some clothing for you to sleep in–silk pajamas that matched Jin’s–to the man’s bedroom. You had finished dressing only to come out and find Jin looking at pictures and trinkets he had around his room. You smiled at the calming aura Jin had. He was so relaxed compared to how you knew him back in the facility. 

All the boys were like that. On edge and ready to fight anything that seemed to harm them or others. For once they could rest. And you were so happy to see them that way. In such a short amount of time you never realized how much they would end up meaning to you. Much less all of them. You didn’t know if it had to do with the fact that it was something part of their magic, or if it was just you but you wanted to see them happy all the time. 

“Your family is amazing.” You spoke up, pulling the blankets back to lay down comfy in bed. 

Jin turned around and grinned at you, moving to get comfy on his side of the bed. This mattress had nothing on the beds in the facility that was for sure. Jin could finally have a good night's sleep. 

“Thank you for spending the night with me.” Jin whispered, giving you lips a peck. 

“Of course, Jinnie.” You grinned, forehead touching his. 

“You mean so much to us.” Jin spoke up softly, moving a hand to touch your cheek. “You have no idea how much we are grateful for you. We will never be able to find a way to repay you back.”

“Being with all of you is enough for me.” You nudged his nose with yours, smiling softly.

“I love you.” Jin quietly said, breathing it against your lips. 

You felt your heart stop for a moment, a huffed out laugh spilling from your lips. You moved to give him a kiss, hand on his cheek.

“I love you too, Seokjin.”

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