#shim jaeyoung fanfic

[slytherinshua]

THE JEALOUSY OF A GOD

genre. greek god au. slightly fluffy. warnings. descriptions of war. jealousy. abduction(?). wyatt bleeds ichor not blood. only loosely proofread. wyatt and reader are married. pairing. ares!wyatt x demeter!reader. (ft. helios!seungjun & apollo!hyojin). wc. 1.4k. request. no. a/n. ares is the god of war, demeter is the goddess of harvest for those unaware. we're going to ignore the fact that demeter is hera's sister and ares is hera's son bcuz... yeah. there's sm incest in greek mythology help??? also i kinda hate this i think it's bad so i'm sorry also the ending is kinda rushed but my brain gave up....

You couldn’t help the way your heart broke a little as you surveyed the sight of all the trampled flowers, torn grass, and squashed bushes. Blood painted them, making what was a luscious thriving green appear brown and dirty. All of your hard work had gone to waste again— all because of Jaeyoung.

As the god of war, it seemed wherever Jaeyoung went, war would follow. He was generally disliked amongst the other gods because of the violence that always broke out due to his rashness. He had a tendency to be hot headed and think with his spear rather than his head. This was at the expense of many poor humans, as well as your poor flowers. You could never hate him for it, though.

Though the god of war and the goddess of harvest were possibly the two most unlikely pairing, your love was written in the stars, predicted and destined to be since the beginning of time. Jaeyoung was by no means the perfect god, but you were far from perfect yourself. His rashness balanced your overly cautious nature, and his push to take risks had been beneficial many times in the past. At the same time, your thoughtfulness had gotten him out of trouble on numerous occasions over the centuries. 

When it came down to it, Jaeyoung was someone who you would always come back to. His loyalty made him more trustworthy than any other god or goddess you knew, and you knew he would always stand by you no matter what and listen to all your concerns. The love and peace of mind he gave you was far more precious than your field of flowers— you could always grow them back.

His wars didn’t happen as often as they used to due to your influence on him. He knew how much you hated bloodshed in general, and you had his word that it would only happen when absolutely unavoidable. You were sure this battlefield was the same.

Broken spears and bloodied bodies remained hidden amongst the tall grass and broken flower stems. You walked through the field, watching as fresh grass and poppies sprouted wherever your feet touched. You carried a basket of ambrosia and a goblet of nectar, intent on giving them to your lover. 

Jaeyoung still stood at the other end of the field, ordering his warriors around to check for the dead. He didn’t seem to notice your presence yet, but as you drew closer, he turned around from the brush of your footsteps through the grass.

“Love, why are you here so early? It has not been an hour since the fighting ceased.” He said warily, his deep voice drawing goosebumps out from your skin. He sheathed his sword and cupped your cheek, the familiarity of his rough hands against your smooth skin made your eyes flutter closed. Whether it was in the intimacy of your own or moments after a battle, his touch still held boundless love for you.

“You’re getting gold on me.” You said softly, noticing every movement he took. He drew his hand back, feeling the ichor drips from his fingertips. He wiped it away, and then swept across your cheek where it had stained, returning your skin to its smooth untainted state.

“Forgive me— I have not yet had the chance to tend to my wounds.” He replied.

“I am sorry for coming so early and unannounced. I could not rest while you were not home. I would like to tend to the field before Seungjun’s chariot reaches the west.” You said slowly, searching his eyes for his approval. He nodded, accepting the ambrosia and nectar from you and withdrawing to the shade of a tree to partake in the nourishment. 

You trailed along the edge of the field, letting your touch slowly heal the Earth, life sprouting from your very fingertips. Jaeyoung watched you intently, pondering over your differences as he often did. You breathed life into everything you touched, allowing the flowers to bloom, the crops to mature, and humanity to continue. His existence brought death and chaos, fear and loss following him at every turn. 

It was a delicate dance; life and death.  

When you were satisfied with the flowers now blooming on the field, you ambled back towards the tree that Jaeyoung was now sleeping under. The battle must have tired him out. You knelt beside him, brushing a wet cloth against the cuts that still leaked gold from his body. Your husband was strong as most gods were, but you still cared for him as if he was the most delicate piece of glass.

You knew it was strange how you loved him. Your love for him resembled humans’ love, not the love of a god. Jaeyoung had filled every last piece of your heart, and you loved him with your entire being. It had taken a long time for him to even get a sliver of affection out of you, and you often remembered the days where his efforts to win you over were met with silence from you. You used to despise how treacherous he was; how much pain his wars caused. But it wasn’t entirely his true nature.

Yes, he fought, but he fought for the right causes and he was loyal to his men. You had grown tired of how fickle your fellow gods were. They betrayed each other as if it were their only entertainment, and you would be hard pressed to find a god who had no enemies.

The other gods of Olympus hated Jaeyoung because he had stopped being like them. Once he had met you, and quickly fallen in love, he dedicated his life to you. You were present in all of his thoughts, and he would turn on the whole world before he turned on you. There was not a single other god who you could say possessed such devotion. 

The least you could do to return his affection was keeping him as safe as possible. You had never told him how hard you worked to keep connections with the other gods of Olympus. Over half of them were more than ready to kick both you and Jaeyoung out after one of his more rebellious encounters. You convinced them to not strip your husband of his powers, but even now, you had yet to soothe Hera and Athena’s anger. 

You were wary of Hera especially. She didn’t forgive others easily, and was known to be jealous and wicked. You knew she was planning something against Jaeyoung even now, and you were anxious to find out what it was. You weren’t sure what else you could do to get you back in her good graces.

Jaeyoung stirred awake at your touch, already alert as soon as he opened his eyes. He glanced up at you, quickly checking that everything was alright before sitting up.

“No one would be able to tell that a battle happened on this field.” His eyes trailed over the fresh flowers and healthy grass; now looking much unlike the field he had fallen asleep to. He then turned back to you, “Thank you for cleaning it up.” 

You simply cupped his face and pressed a kiss to his lips, which he gladly reciprocated. It was your silent way of reminding him that you were more than willing to do anything for him. He was yours and you were his for the rest of time, and nothing could ever separate him from you.

You travelled back to Olympus; Jaeyoung seemed cheerful, while you were more cautious. Something in your gut was telling you that now was not the time to show your faces in Zeus’s throne room. You dissuaded your husband from announcing his return, and led him back to your chambers instead, urging him to rest more and promising him to be back within an hour.

But you didn’t return within an hour, and Jaeyoung’s worry grew with each passing minute. Hyojin— the god of archery, music, and poetry— burst in, and with a few quick words of explanation, Jaeyoung’s heart sank. He knew that he had gotten on Hera’s bad side; his willingness to do anything for you only reminded her of how unsuitable her own husband was to her. Jaeyoung knew that she held no fondness for him, but he had never accounted for the full extent of her jealousy. 

Hera had captured you, and Jaeyoung had no doubt that she would do whatever it took to get what she wanted out of him, using you as her leverage.

↳ onf taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @candewlsy,, @weird-bookworm,, @seunghancore,, @haecien

[lxveille]

could u do e-tion/wyatt (whoever u think fits best~) and morning? ty 💓💓💓

title: a good morning word count: ~ 980 warnings: mentions of alcohol a/n: i decided to go with wyatt because there’s another e-tion request that i’ll be doing eventually and i want to spread the love !!

one word prompt flash fics; still accepting !

“Minkyun!” you yell into the dark and quiet city street, much to your throat’s protesting soreness. That’s what you get for shouting into the microphone at karaoke. It hadn’t felt like a bad decision at the time, but it certainly feels like you may have been a bit over enthusiastic now. Beside you Jaeyoung catches the strain in your voice, and nudges your side. 

“You alright?” Jaeyoung questions with a chuckle. You nod, then gesture ahead to where Minkyun looks like he’s about to fall off the curb of the sidewalk as he continues several strides ahead of you both. “Minkyun, wait up!” he calls on your behalf -- his own voice cracks as he raises his volume to do so. Both of you burst into laughter of shared amusement. It’s funnier than it should be. There’s probably the last remnants of alcohol lingering in your bloodstream to thank for that. 

Minkyun half-stumbles into the street, but bounces back quickly, spinning on the sidewalk to look at you two. “You both are so slow!” he complains. And surely, the fact that you’ve both come to a stop to double over laughing doesn’t help. Even as Minkyun shakes his head, there’s a grin on his face. Like he knows something. 

“My place is just a block away from here,” he points out, “I can make it from here.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask him when you manage to right yourself. 

Minkyun insists, and you strain to shout after him to send a text when he reaches his apartment. 

That leaves you and Jaeyoung on the sidewalk together, carrying on the path towards your building without taking the detour to drop off Minkyun. As the two of you walk, you reminiscence on the night you’d just passed. Mostly on the foolishness each of you had partaken in. Laughing all over again at remarks made loudly or silly things done, and only some of them to fully blame on drinking.

“Thanks, again,” you say eventually, when the conversation has reached a lull. “I should’ve just said yes from the getgo when you guys invited me out. I’m really glad I went.” 

Jaeyoung smiles, familiar lines appearing on his face beside his nose and at the corners of his eyes. “Of course. I’m glad you came, too.” 

You want to say more. About how he was the one who convinced you. How quickly you had dismissed the notion of having a fun night out that afternoon, a part of you having already decided you’d rather fester, spend another night scrolling through profiles on tinder to avoid looking over old messages from your ex. How Jaeyoung didn’t let you. How you hadn’t thought of your ex since dinner, and the credit you think might be owed to him for how little protest you put up when Seunghee had grabbed your phone to delete the contact altogether in the 4th bar of the night. You don’t know exactly how to put those things eloquently. But moreover --

“Shit,” you suddenly blurt out after turning the corner onto your block. “Is that the sun?” 

Jaeyoung lets out a small, nearly wondrous huh. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s sunrise,” he confirms. 

It’s only just beginning. Peeking out from between the tall gray buildings is a sliver of yellow at the horizon, with stains of deep orange around it. Shades of pink strike the bottom of clouds, and give way to the pale blue sky. 

Dumbfounded, you pull your phone out to check the time. 5:56. Does this mean you have a time record of how long it takes to get over a breakup now? 

“I didn’t even realize it was getting light out,” Jaeyoung confesses. You nod in agreement and slip your phone back into your pocket. 

“We stayed out later than I thought.”

“We stayed out earlier than I thought,” he tries, and it is enough to make you chuckle and look at him instead of the colorful sky. With Jaeyoung in this lighting, a feeling suddenly strikes you. Not a new feeling. It’s one that had bubbled up all night, with quick glances over clinking glasses and through brushing shoulders laughing. No, not a new feeling at all. Rather, the term for the feeling suddenly dawns upon you.  

“There might be a good view of it from my balcony.” 

“You have it in you to stay up and watch the sunrise?” Jaeyoung sounds skeptical. “I’m gonna be lucky if I don’t fall asleep as soon as I sit down on the bus.” 

“Then come up with me,” you offer. “That way you can at least have a pillow if you’re going to pass out.” 

“Ah -- I don’t want to impose.” He turns awkward, as if you’d suggested something absurd. You laugh and reach out to place a hand on his arm. 

“It’s the least I can do, really.” After you give a reassuring pat above his elbow, your hand slips downwards, but before it can fall away entirely, an impulse overtakes you. Your hand brushes against his, fingers only just beginning to curl.

Maybe it’s just instinct that has him responding by interlacing your fingers with his. It’s hardly the first time the two of you have held hands. Still, there’s a vibrancy to it that’s newly discovered, or newly defined. You’re having trouble sorting it all out at once. You only know you hope that he’ll say yes, if only to spend a little longer together. 

“If you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure. Don’t be silly.” 

He objects to his concerns being silly, and follows you inside your building. 

Neither of you make it to see the sky turn fully blue. Once you reach your apartment, it’s far more tempting to plop down on your couch together and murmur about making coffee before falling asleep right there, side by side; your head upon his shoulder and hands woven together.

[inliar]

small shreds of love

word count: 1.9k

minkyun-centric

a collection of small moments where minkyun falls a little in love with the world.

inspired by this tumblr post that for the life of me i cannot find the link to, but here’s a link to an instagram post that screenshotted it.

a/n: 2/3 of posts i put on my ao3 that have not made it to my tumblr.

1.

‘the best and worst part of mangwon-dong is the strays,’ minkyun decides as he walks around the area. best, because he gets to see, pet, and feed all of these animals every day after practice; worst, because he knows all of these animals are not getting proper care. strays are smart and wily and more than capable of fending for themselves, but minkyun firmly believes that just because they are able to do so does not mean they should have to.

he worries about them every day. worries when it’s cold, worries when it’s too hot, worries when it rains. minkyun is a very small person who can only do very small things, but he tries to do his part regardless. which means making rounds to feed as many strays as he can with the cat food container he has in his hand.

he knows most stray cats congregate around the alleys beside convenience stores (probably hoping for the crumbs of the people who eat around it) so he heads to the first convenience store he sees. sure enough, there’s a cat sitting by the corner. it’s pitifully thin, a fact that makes minkyun’s heart clench. it’s also been thoroughly ignored by the past two customers who have walked out of the store. “you’d think they would at least spare it a glance,” minkyun mutters, dryly.

he is maybe fifty meters away when he sees a well dressed woman kneel in front of the cat. she produces a treat out of seemingly thin air and offers it to the cat, who eagerly accepts. when the cat finishes it, she pulls another one out of her pocket. ‘oh’, minkyun realizes, stopping in his tracks, ‘her pockets are filled with cat treats.’

for just a second, he falls a little in love with the air of kindness that seems to viscerally surround her. she’s dressed like an office worker and looks to be his mother’s age, but she’s taking her time where she could be working or resting to feed the stray cats. he hasn’t met many adults who would do the same. maybe minkyun is a very small person who can only do very small things, but knowing that he is not the only small person in this very big world brings him all the comfort he could ever need.

2.

minkyun is reminded, once again, that he works in an industry where viewers find pleasure in his misery. he hates, hates, hates haunted houses. always has, always will. but this is one of their first vlives after their debut, and he figures that running away sobbing will not make a great first impression. at least he isn’t alone, though, since he has jaeyoung to accompany him. brave, reliable, jaeyoung, who will most definitely have to stand in the front because there is no way minkyun is going to brave the unknown first.

jaeyoung, to his credit, is exceptionally patient with minkyun. he dutifully ignores minkyun’s protests of how he can’t go in there and talks over his very loud thoughts with miscellaneous thoughts of his own. “hold on, i have to film us both,” jaeyoung says to no one in particular. “should i hold the camera? you can hold the box.”

minkyun doesn’t grace him with an answer.

jaeyoung frets over turning on the lights to show their faces and angling the camera to show their faces before managing to adequately sort it all out. “alright, let’s go.” he says decisively.

“no, i’m not going.” minkyun says, in a last ditch attempt to convince himself that he has the courage to stay behind and disappoint his group, fans, and agency. he doesn’t, but self preservation is a nice thought.

“i get it, but there’s nothing we can do. let’s go. stay behind me.” jaeyoung says, not unkindly, and minkyun has no choice but to agree.

the further they go, the darker it gets, and minkyun is not a fan of how every offputting sound seems to be amplified by the eerie aura of the facility. all he has is a flashlight that the leaders hinted would be useless later on, and a camera for video evidence if anything goes wrong. he also doesn’t like how desperately his hands seem to grip at the back of jaeyoung’s shirt, but he can’t find it in himself to let go.

‘you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,’ he silently chants to himself as jaeyoung makes small talk with the camera while some mystical recorded voice explains their mission. he nervously looks behind him every few seconds, but that’s more of an anxiety thing and less of an actual threat. but his nonexistent composure gets shot to pieces the second something makes a funny noise.

minkyun is nothing if not wonderfully responsive so he screams. loudly. all his little dumb brain can process is a never ending stream of ‘panic panic panic’ and who is he to override his baser instincts?

it only gets worse from there. more things start to make funny noises and more indiscernible shapes he can barely see start to appear out of nowhere. his mind screams louder, ‘PANIC PANIC PANIC’ and it’s only fueled by all the unfamiliar stimulus. he is not safe, there’s too many things happening at once, his heart is pounding to some terrible off kilter rhythm and the air is thick and heavy and he’s drowning in the soupy fear that’s latching his jaw shut as he blindly edges forwards and -

thud.

for a long, horrible, moment, it’s too quiet. then -

he doesn’t quite process exactly what he sees, only that it’s unnatural and frightening and suddenly all he knows how to do is scream and scream and scream as the fear paralyzes him. if it wasn’t for jaeyoung faithfully tugging him along, he never would have made it through the stupid corridor.

the rest of the mission is all a hazy blur. he figures that his mind did him a favour and deleted the memories from his head right afterwards, and he’s not complaining. and if he’s not quite right for the rest if the day, that’s nobody’s business.

he watches the reuploaded live on the very next day. he hates himself a little for how weak and cowardly he seems compared to all the other members, but all of the comments seem to call him the funniest idol they’ve ever felt sorry for while watching. minkyun wonders, again, if he should be proud of providing entertainment or resentful for what he had to go through to provide it.

his bitter thoughts are cut short once the biggest scare occurs. video minkyun is screaming like some sort of unholy banshee while video jaeyoung is screaming like a normal person, but video jaeyoung braves on. “it’s okay, i’m here, hold on,” video jaeyoung mutters, over and over again. it’s a soothing mantra and minkyun can almost see his recorded self calming down a little, settling into something outside of his raw, unadulterated panic. it doesn’t last for long, because video minkyun seems to always find another thing to cry about, but video jaeyoung is steadfast in his patience and reassurances as he keeps the two of them going.

real minkyun falls a little in love with the overwhelming sense of reassurance and comfort that video jaeyoung exuded. he had never fully recognized that side of jaeyoung before. the feeling passes, but minkyun thinks he’ll notice that part of him a lot more from now on.

3.

minkyun is not a stranger to busking. he was in a short program about busking with the rest of his group, and he’d seen people busking on the sides of streets before. he’d even been brave enough to sing a short tune on a street, but that was before he was an idol and before anyone knew his face. not that many people know his face now, but he has to act as though everyone does anyway. he’s seen what the media does to provide entertainment to the masses, and, despite doubting that busking could do him any real harm, doesn’t want to take the chance.

but that doesn’t stop him from pausing near any busker he comes across, listening or watching whatever the performer has to offer. it takes a certain caliber of courage to put yourself out there in front of an audience who didn’t ask to see you, and minkyun will openly admire and respect that whenever he can.

today is a good day. it’s as quiet and peaceful as the streets in korea can get, and he’s enjoying the cool autumn breeze as he walks towards the company building, cat food in tow. he was running low on food for the strays, and he happened to wake up earlier than he needed to for his afternoon vocal lesson, anyway. by some rare tendril of luck, minkyun can afford to enjoy and prolong his walk for another hour or so.

he’s halfway to the company, approaching an intersection, when he sees a boy in a high school uniform fiddling with strings on his guitar. the crotchety old man inside of minkyun protests - this kid should be in school, it’s class time, he’s not even trying to hide it - before it deflates and dies down. minkyun has so many friends who delayed or skipped high school altogether to become idols. even the ones that did “attend” missed a ridiculous amount of days. he should be the last person to complain.

minkyun almost misses it when the boy begins to sing, caught up in his conflicting thoughts. but once he hears it, he halts altogether.

it’s been a while since he’s heard someone sing so … honestly.

minkyun has spent a lot of his life learning the art of composure. he’s been taught time and time again how to correct his breathing, or how to widen his range, or how to emphasize the right notes at the right times to convey the right emotions. once he gathered some semblance of the basics, he even began to notice it in singers he hears on tv. this one turned her sustained high note into a vibrato by relaxing her throat. that one decrescendoed at the end of his phrase to give more finality to the note. even with professional singers who were supposed to be masters at conveying profound emotions, all minkyun heard was an amalgamation of techniques.

but this boy. he has no technique whatever.

without intending to, minkyun begins mentally critiquing his choices. he should have held that last note for at least half a beat longer. he should have emphasized that syllable. he should have -

‘no’, minkyun thinks, and this thought is louder and more final than the rest. he shouldn’t have done any of that. he shouldn’t have to do any of that. this boy’s voice, his clumsy guitar, and the honest and genuine emotion it conveys, is perfect the way it is. rather, it’s perfect because it is. it’s refreshing to listen so mindlessly and yet so carefully to a song, for once.

minkyun falls a little in love with the way the boy sings, but more so with the music he provides. it’s been a while since he’s felt this way about a song. it’s been a while since he’s remembered why he wanted to become an idol in the first place.

he dumps all of his change in the boy’s guitar case and walks away.