#there is... so much context to this au tbh

[a-kinda-boring-writer]

hi i’m new here and i would like to know what you like about brightfire! never seen that ship before and i love hearing about peoples beloved niche ships

Hi, hello! 👋 Welcome to the kitty corner of The Hellsite(tm)

I'm quite sorry for taking two whole day to organize my thoughts 😔. I'm really bad at discussing ships I like. Or ships in general tbh.

Anyways, not surprised at all lol. Brightheart fanships are kinda rare as is, I feel (the fandom loves BrightCloud way too much lol. The most experimental they ever get is adding Swiftpaw or Daisy into the mix). BrightFire must be the nichest thing ever. More of a crackship tbh. There are like three people in the universe who ship BrightFire, we all used to be in the same discord server, and each of us had a different, mutually incompatible interpretation of their dynamic lmao.

Last time someone asked me about one of my fav ships, I couldn't really give them a good answer, and I felt really shit about it. So I'll do my best and I hope it's at least amusing to hear my thought process?

This is probably going to be long and I'm going to explain myself like ass, because I always end up rambling unnecessarily 😔.

Alright:

To be honest, for me, it originally came about as a joke, while writing my PoT-AU rewrite. The main premise of that is that Holly, Jay, and Lion are FeatherCrow kits born in RiverClan, but a fun... gimmick, I guess you'd call it, of that AU is that I strive to research and implement community-wide headcanons and jokes new and old (or just wc fandom practices in general) taken seriously to craft the world-building, plot and characterization of some cats. For example, Leafpool in the AU started as a warrior but was forced to become a med cat by Sandstorm (old fandom rumor based on jack and shit afaik) and she's very pro-life (very strange fandom discourse turned into shitposts gallore from 2019... also, yeah, abortions are a thing that exist in that AU).

Here in Tumblr, Firestar x Everyone is rather popular, so that's part of his character in the AU. That's to say, he's a disaster, with 2 mates, 12 lovers, like 100 flings and 24 litters of kits fathered and counting! (don't worry, the large majority of them died young, so despite his best efforts, he didn't nuked the clans' genetic diversity.... yet).

Anyways, the joke (and pre-phrasing this by saying that I think infidelity in fiction is funny to begin with, and that I don't like Cloudtail. At all). I thought that it'd be hilarious if Firestar, considering his new behaviors, got so annoyed at his nephew one day that he just goes and cucks him. That's it. Incredibly stupid, I know.

Then I started thinking about the ship a bit more, outside of the context of that AU. And I kinda ended up really liking the idea of BrightFire? Firestar is just really easy to ship lol. And as I said, I do not like Cloudtail. So pairing Brightheart up with someone else was an intriguing proposition.

I haven't had the time to sit and write down about it properly, so the following is very tenuous at best. I'm aware this is more of a crackship, so I'm under no illusion that it makes perfect sense within canon or anything like that. Also, this is only ONE scenario I have for BrightFire, the one I've put the most thought, and it takes place on the second part of TNP.

Pre-phrasing this by saying that I don't write my romances as entirely healthy, so if anything sounds lowkey 🤨 then yeah, it's probably meant to be.

The way I see it, Brightheart derives way too much of her self-worth from other cats' feelings and opinions about her. In canon, it's mainly Cloudtail's. One of the guides states something along the lines of "she still remembers what she looked like before the dog attack, and it breaks her heart every time she sees her reflection, she just puts up a brave front and avoids going near water". Bright herself adds that "He gave me another destiny, and I knew that no matter what I looked like, I would be all right. As long as Cloudtail loved me, I was no longer Lostface, but Brightheart". Which I'm sure most people would interpret that as something cute, that's what it was meant as probably, but I'm not most people lol. (bad faith interpretations strike again 🫠)

There are other examples of that stuff within the main books themselves, but those 👆 illustrate the idea already. I don't feel like hunting for screenshots right now.

So, with that in mind, when Cloudtail started neglecting her, favoring spending time with Daisy instead of her... not to mention that Bright had recently lost her home and also had to leave her mother behind to an unknown fate, so she might have been in a vulnerable state as is... I'd imagine she took it really hard.

And to clarify, I'm NOT saying that Cloud was being neglectful on purpose or that he had feelings for Daisy and wanted to replace his wife or anything like that (I think he was just being well-meaning but clueless... and a little dumb perhaps), just that to Bright, it certainly seemed that way.

So in an alternative universe in which Leafpool doesn't step in and chew out Cloudtail to get it together, it's Firestar who intervenes in this situation. But he doesn't go to Cloud, his nephew never listens to him anyways. He goes to Brightheart instead. He doesn't understand what's going on at first, he only knows that she's been moping around in the med cat den a little too much, and he really needs all warriors locked in. They just moved to the lake and there's a lot of work to be done.

He learns what's going on and feels sympathy towards her. He too knows what's like to feel alone even when surrounded by clanmates, and to be neglected by those who you hold dear, those who you thought you had a special connection with (he's still not over his situationship with Graystripe and getting dumped for Silverstream lmaooo)

Firestar cuts her some slack and lets her skip her duties until she feels better. He also starts periodically visiting her, to spend time with her and cheer her up, just like he did with Cinderpelt. He feels responsible in a way, because Cloud is his kin and he (unintentionally) caused this mess.

Brightheart is apathetic at first. But she ends up latching onto him, because she has no one else (Cinderpelt is too busy to spend time with her, dealing with Leafpool's shenanigans and, well, her own upcoming doom. And her brothers... sorry, who?) Over time, Brightheart sort of inadvertently starts getting from Firestar's company and kinds gestures the same validation she used to derive from Cloudtail's.

Eventually, Bright fells well enough to return to her duties, and though things are better, she tries to avoid going on patrols with Cloud. She really doesn't want to know how awesome Daisy is doing in her training or how great her kits are 🙄. And that's all Cloud seems to think about these days. She feels like he compliments her far less nowadays, and even when he does, it sounds kinda hollow.

Instead, she often ends up going on patrols that, coincidentally, Firestar is in (Fire also thinks that Cloud is annoying, so he doesn't put him in his patrols lmao). And they just keep hanging out, as clanmates. Soon they do as friends. And it's his jokes that make her laugh now, and his compliments that causes her to trip over her words.

And when she realizes what's happening, it startles her, causes her to feel really guilty... but it causes her to reevaluate some things. She needs to be loved to be Brightheart, to not be Lostface, to not be dead-weight. And she simply doesn't anymore with Cloudtail. She thought their bond unbreakable, but as soon as someone prettier showed up, he seemed more than ready to drop her. And that sucks because she has a family with him, and so many plans, and so much of her life and future plans were build around him. She doesn't want to throw all that away.

But she feels loved around Firestar. And she needs to feel loved. She's been doing so much better since they've began hanging out. He makes her feel strong, like Cloud used to do. And she's rebuilt her life once. She could do it again...

Firestar has no fucking clue that he's essentially driving a wedge between Cloud and Bright.

(We're going with the fanon-ish funny characterization of Firestar, in which he's handsome, charismatic and very charming, but incredibly clueless. You know, needing Cinderpelt to spell it out for him when Sandstorm wanted to put a ring on it, and all that)

He just sees that Brightheart responds well to what he does, so he keeps doing it. He invites her to share some fresh-kill with him and Sandstorm, and while they eat, he slips in that her fur looks lovely today. Then he pats himself on the back when Bright smiles, and offers to go on another patrol with him. Man, he's just so great at supporting his clanmates! 😌

(In a "Sandstorm is ok with it" scenario, I like to think that Firestar wouldn't understand what's going on until his wife quite literally asks him 'So are you going to invite that woman you've been courting to our nest already, or do you expect me to do it?', with him replying something like "the woman I've been WHAT?")

From that set up, you can take it anywhere, really. Bright keeps quiet and continues with her marriage, for the sake of her daughter. She tries to pursue an affair with Fire and is rejected. She tries to pursue an affair with Fire and he agrees for [insert reason here]. Bright just divorces Cloud publicly and goes for Fire, either getting rejected or not. Or from this event, Bright learns to love herself, without needing others for validation, and it doesn't matter with who she ends up with anymore... or she should yolo it and just marry Daisy, fuck it.

Happy endings are kinda few and far between in my stories lol, but I have a soft spot for BrightFire. I wanna see them happy-ish in the end (Sandstorm too!). Need time to actually think about it, though.

Anyways, yeah. Hope you got something interesting out of this?

<3

[chronologically-challenged]

Thinking about Danny Phantom/ISAT crossover again. Mainly Danny being Loop's little guy that they want to protect. I'd imagine this being after Danny got kidnapped by one of the ghosts, and Loop (after going absolutely destroying some ghosts) bringing him back home safe and sound.

@moonshere the them~

[bunnieswithknives]

Okay but does Peri KNOW that Dev has a robotic leg when he shows up? Something about the fact that Peri's wand is a cane and the fact that Dev could have kept his leg and just had a cane for the rest of his life instead tickles my brain.

I mean he doesn't know immediately, he wasn't like briefed or anything, but he basically lives in Dev's house so he definitely finds out. Peri doesn't comment on or react to it all though really, there's no reason for him to think anything of it, plenty of people have missing limbs, a lot of people are born without them, it doesn't necessarily mean anything sinister happened. He had no reason to pry or ask and I think Peri's lack of reaction to it helped Dev feel a bit more comfortable in his skin. (Not by much but.. a little bit.)

[journey-to-the-attic]

the rest of the cast got their new song covers, so i wanted to try putting the others in a band :>

i did want to make it look a bit like an album cover but i have no idea how those are designed so eh?? i also couldn't think of any band or album/song names so. if anyone has any ideas...

[devils-little-mouse]

𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑'𝖘 𝕯𝖊𝖓

One night, you decide to take a walk through the streets of Baldur's Gate. Wondering the lower city with your mind full of worries and doubts about the imminent fight against the Netherbrain, you find yourself in front of Sharess' Caress.

You don't know why, but your feets urge you to enter the building and suddenly you arrive in front of a door. A door with a very specific plaque hang on the side. "Devil's Den" it says.

Your companions think you made up your mind, that you gave up on the idea of taking Raphael's deal. But in reality, you often find yourself thinking about it. About him.

The excitement you feel every time you are in his presence is... concerning, to say the least. But you can't resist, he's just so fascinating.

You linger in front of his door for a few minutes, watching people chatter loudly in the streets below and wondering once again what you should do to save them from the forthcoming battle. Then, as you begin to walk away to get back to camp, you hear the creaking of a door opening behind you.

Your feets halt, and your eyes unintentionally linger in the darkness of the room through the door ajar, your heart beating fast with fear and excitment.

You know he's in there, you can feel it.

He awaits you, ready to offer you a deal you cannot refuse.

So, into the Devil's Den you venture, unsure if you'll ever come out again.

[trashcreatyre]

They are sooo lame

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Head in hands. 'I Spy' with Pulp is such a banger for Zor. It's giving me the urge to finally think about designing them (+ redesigning a couple others..). There's something so good abt some of the lyrics like: "you see I spy for a living // and i specialise in revenge // on taking the things that i know will cause you pain". Like....likee.............

Theres earlier parts that also make my brain tick: "it may look like to the untrained eye // im sitting on my arse all day // I'm biding my time until i take you all on // my lords and ladies, i will not fail // i will prevail, cause i spy"

PLUS the name. That did not help the situation. Alas Different Class by Pulp 🤝 IEYTD Characters. Similar can be said about the Chicago soundtrack but thats a. Whole other ramble

[ask-that-weird-dog]

Kris. Kris. Kris. Of the two, do you prefer moss or potassium more?

* (You get the feeling this is about to be a very, very weird day.)

<< PREVIOUS || MASTERPOST ||

[stealingpotatoes]

Honestly Mace would have loved Luke and Leia with his whole heart.

yes!!! honestly he's like a grandparent (in the dynamic way, not age way) bc he was harsh on anakin but you KNOW he's much more caring for the twins, like how a grandparent is strict on their kid but gives their grandkid literally whatever. and anakin's like where was this for me

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

Flourish AU - Dragonheart Pirkko - Durmond Priory

Champion of the Caustic Elder Dragon

"Lasting change isn't gentle. It's harsh, abrasive, and inescapable. Either we'll adapt or we'll die trying."

"A better world starts with deciding what we're prepared to lose."

[chronologically-challenged]

Hello, I have my little guy, a thirdfrin AU where Siffrin made a wish, but unlike Loop, wasn't as much of a guide. Loop calls him stardust, but he's more aptly named "The Director". Thus, Director AU.

An AU where Siffrin was convinced the loops would never end, that this was always going to be their life forever more, this too sweet existence grating until they feel like they're nothing, he makes another wish.

"I don't want to be here, I can't keep up acting like this, but please give me the power to keep going"

But The Director is not a guide. They are here to ensure that this Siffrin will endure.

Another Siffrin wakes up in the meadow, another try to end these cursed loops. Loop is not as fun of a guide, but they look at this new Siffrin, and calls him our satellite. Loop doesn't play any games, no laughing no fun, the break was lost when stardust decided to give up too. Besides, Loop learned their lesson in trying the same things over and over again and expecting different results. Loop tells them about the keys and refuses to let them leave rooms without taking the ones they would have missed otherwise, makes sure they always go the right directions, all of it.

Perhaps Loop is a good guide, but not much of a friend.

This Loop also doesn't talk with this Siffrin except for the bare minimum. "I'm here to guide you, satellite! Nothing more, nothing less! If you want to talk to someone about the loops, maybe you should talk to your party!"

Loop is a bit more insistent about this whole "tell your party about the loops" thing. Siffrin doesn't get it.

Loop lets Siffrin die to the King; they don't think Siffrin would have believed them if they said he needed a shield. But the dutiful guide tells them of a shield and a secret library. As Siffrin goes to get their needed tools, Loop tries to think of what they can do to make sure their satellite doesn't fall into despair like their stardust did. Because, despite stardust abandoning them, Loop fundamentally believes there is a way out. There HAS to be.

Why would they be here to help otherwise?

Siffrin defeats the King after a few tries. After victory Mirabelle runs ahead. Happily, he guides the rest of the party to the Head Housemaiden and to the end of their journey.

But there's a shout, Mirabelle runs back.

Something is blocking the way. A giant curtain of night as far as the eye can see stretches across the top of the house. There's also a welcome mat sitting oddly on the ground. Everyone tries to read it, but they only get a headache.

Suddenly, the curtain opens, a white glove beckons.

There are two choices, to take it or not.

Curiously, knowing they can just loop if something goes wrong, Siffrin takes it, much to the other's distress.

They're INSTANTLY pulled in. Beyond the curtain, there is nothing but an empty void and a face familiar to their own, but wrong wrong wrong. A star in their stomach, hair of stars, and an incomprehensible shade echoing out from their feet and hair. The being has no eyes to see, but Siffrin knows They Are Looking At Him.

"What are you?" Siffrin asks.

The being opens their mouth and reveals a full row of sharp teeth, made to tear apart and swallow. They speak, but Siffrin cannot hear the words.

The being closes their mouth. And opens it once more.

A single thought echoes and echoes in Siffrin's head.

[GO BACK]

Siffrin.

Loops.

Siffrin wakes up in the meadow.

[Memory of Control] When equipping this memory, your attack speed increases, but you will always do a random attack on your turn.

They immediately go to Loop. Good thing, because the star looks frantic. "I can't see anything past the King, satellite, but I know SOMETHING went down. Now explain."

Siffrin explains what's going on.

And by the end Loop looks on in horror, "oh stardust," they whisper, far too quiet, and almost said without their permission, "what have you done?"

And thus begins their mission to figure out what is going on with this "stardust".

[puhpandas]

I keep thinking about how on earth they would canonize ggy bc like. at this point if they have to sacrifice Gregory screentime of just him to make something we already know actually canon, I would rather just take the screentime, but on the other hand they have to canonize it if they want to do anything at all with that plotline, and that makes me wonder if theyll stick with it as canon in the games at all or just leave it as background knowledge if u read the book 😭

[gayness-and-mayhem]

Listening to my HIGNFY tapes and side 4 is literally just Ruby Wax asking Glenda Jackson about squatting on grates and Gyles Brandreth flirting with Hugh Dennis. I'm fucking obsessed.

[keylovesstuff]

13 and 30? :D

Is there a trope you wouldn’t write if it was the last trope on earth?

Alternate Universe. I feel like it's already challenging to keep characters in character as they're presented in media. So not only would I have to come up with some engaging plot to drop some pre-existing characters in, but also try to keep the in character enough to make whoevers reading think "Yeah blank would totally be like this if they were in this type of universe". If they sway too far from their in-universe counterparts , its like might as well create your original story at that point (at least imo) 🤫.

Tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future.

A longfic!??!! You're asking the impossible from me. It's already a challenge writing a decent 4k oneshot 🤣🤣 and at least when I think of longfics, I think multi-chapter fics and oh gosh, thinking of an overarching plot and spanning it for so many chapters 😳. No ideas in the near future, at least for me, but I think it would be so fun to try my hand at rewriting a season for a show or movie, which would probably actually help with those prints maybe now that I'm thinking about it. 🤔

[la-principessa-nuova]

This or That Game.

coffee shop or flower shop | au or fix-it | enemies to lovers or childhood friends | angst or fluff | love at first sight or pining | modern au or historical au | soulmates or unrequited | fake dating or secret dating | break up & make up or proposal & weddings | get together or established relationship | oblivious pining or domestic fluff | hurt/comfort or crack | meet the parents or meet cute

Tagging

@tattle-tayler @learningtogirl @valuepack-catgirl @a-high-femme @bookmothic-dyke @drmothmaam @elis-pride

This or That Game. coffee shop or flower shop | au or fix-it | enemies to lovers or childhood friends | angst or fluff | love at first sight or pining | modern au or historical au | soulmates or unrequited | fake dating or secret dating | break up & make up or proposal & weddings | get together or established relationship | oblivious pining or domestic fluff | hurt/comfort or crack | meet the parents or meet cute Tagging

@alloftimeandspaceisours @estrogenic-ella @la-principessa-nuova @nathaira-stern

[muniimyg]

BAD HABIT // JJK

06 | big dipper // series m.list

note: hihi ,, thank u for waiting !! this ch is def worth it tbh </3 no warnings ,, just like ... oc goes off on jungkook ,, jungkook gets blindfolded ,, more context on their auras ??? yeah ... tension too ! pls do not be shy and send in ur thoughts !!! i would love to know how u're liking the fic so far as it's my first fantasy au !!!!! (clearly still very nervy lmfao) mwah ,, enj !

//

the past few days have been anything but easy for jungkook.

not that he deserves easy—he knows he doesn’t. if anything, this is exactly what he should’ve expected. what does surprise him, though, is just how well you execute the petty treatment. how effortlessly you lock him out. how, no matter how many times he shuts his eyes, focuses, and tries to slip into your thoughts—he can’t.

it’s like the connection doesn’t exist.

which makes no sense.

because it does.

the string between you is golden and bright, undeniable to everyone who has ever seen it. and yet, there’s this… knot. this missing piece. it’s so fucking strange. he felt you before—felt the way your heart would race, the heat that would bloom across your skin. he knew when you were sick, when you were anxious. when the bond first tied, his own pulse had stumbled just trying to match yours. he cared so much when it happened...

but now?

now, it’s empty.

like someone cut the string without actually severing it.

he first noticed it that night in the garden.

you had only been soulmates for a few hours, and still, he felt something. at first, he thought maybe he was imagining it. overhyping the entire invisible string phenomenon. but then, the symptoms started stacking—waves of nausea when you were overwhelmed, your voice in his head when you caught his stray thoughts in class.

you’re in his head.

but he’s not in yours.

and if he’s not in your head, then what about your heart?

after that night, jungkook had gone to bed feeling like absolute shit. you told him he made you feel better—but he couldn’t feel it. couldn’t be sure. how could he trust words alone when everything inside you was a blank slate to him?

it freaked him out.

it got to him.

he spent the night tossing and turning, unable to catch even fifteen minutes of real sleep. and then, the next morning, when you walked in well-rested and seemingly fine—it hit him like a freight train.

it’s him.

he’s the problem.

and as fucked up, childish, and selfish as it is—that’s why he called you boring.

because you are.

because you’re blank.

because he, the so-called master of manipulation, can’t get inside your head.

but he sure as hell can get under your skin.

"so everyone, partner up—and obviously, soulmates go with soulmates," namjoon announces, finishing his rundown of the sparring activity.

you barely register the rest.

instead, you watch the class shuffle into place. soulmates move toward each other. friends pair up. the guys—still without soulmates—team up amongst themselves.

and jungkook?

jungkook leans against a tree, one foot propped lazily against the bark, arms folded over his chest. his expression is unreadable, but the tilt of his head, the barely-there smirk, sends heat curling up your spine. he plays with his lighter.

you exhale sharply and motion for him to come over.

he stays put, smirk growing.

then, he mouths, "don’t wanna."

your jaw clenches. you point at him, then to the ground in front of you.

"come here. now."

jungkook blinks, feigning innocence.

you cross your arms.

you wait—a second, a minute, a moment too long.

then, just as you start to turn away, he appears right in front of you.

"you're impatient today," he remarks, voice smooth, teasing. "is that how fast you need me? i can teleport wherever you want me to go. tell me to go away, i'll do it."

you sigh, pressing your fingers to your temple. before you can retort, he lifts his hands, and with the subtlest flex of his fingers, two sparring sticks float from the pile and dart into his grasp. he catches them effortlessly and offers you one, grinning.

across the field, namjoon groans.

"jungkook, did you really need to use your aura for that? just walk like a normal person."

jungkook huffs.

"wow. it’s like everyone hates me today."

"maybe we do," you mutter, snatching the stick from his hand.

this was foreseeable.

you don’t need jin’s aura to know how this is going to go. the class knows, too. there’s a shift in energy, hushed murmurs, amused glances exchanged.

from where he leans against a tree, jin exhales a chuckle. “this should be interesting.”

and it is.

because while everyone else has started, you haven’t moved past the first three strikes.

not because you aren’t trying.

but because jungkook isn’t.

you lunge forward, aiming a strike at his chest. he doesn’t even flinch. his own stick twirls idly in his fingers, his gaze flicking toward the treetops like he’s more interested in cloud formations than the fight.

he dodges every attack without breaking a sweat. side-steps. pivots. barely moves.

and worse—he looks bored.

your foot pivots. another strike slices through the air. jungkook steps back just enough for it to skim past his sleeve.

“getting closer,” he muses. “try again.”

irritation burns at your spine. you exhale sharply, feint left, strike right. this time, you land it. the stick grazes his arm—not enough to bruise, but enough to count.

jungkook stumbles back dramatically, hissing through his teeth as if you’d run him through with a blade.

"shit—"

the class falls silent for a beat.

then, snickers ripple through the air.

"oh, come on," you deadpan.

jungkook blinks at you, playing it up even more. "that was—you stabbed me."

taehyung mutters something under his breath. jin actually laughs. namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose.

jungkook sighs, twirling his stick again. then, in a movement so smooth it’s almost insulting, he flicks yours aside with a gentle tap.

wood clashes.

you stumble back.

cheers erupt from the watching trainees. but you just glare at him, chest heaving.

"again."

you grip your stick tighter, eyes narrowing. across from you, jungkook still looks at ease. hands loose. weight shifted just enough to be casual. like he’s humoring you.

the heat in your chest flares.

“jungkook, are you even trying?”

he shrugs, nonchalant.

“dunno. are you?”

jimin chokes on a laugh. "god, jungkook’s asking for it."

your jaw locks.

the room feels warmer. everyone's watching. you’ve never cared about proving yourself before—but this feels different.

nam joon's voice cuts in, sharp. "jungkook, get it together. look at ___! she’s clearly upset.”

jungkook’s eyes flicker toward namjoon. then back to you.

and something changes... his teasing drops. his fingers tighten around his stick.

“you want me to try?”

you swallow, nodding once.

he shifts, expression unreadable. “whatever you want, p.”

then, he moves.

the first exchange is fast. too fast. you counter, but his strikes come harder, sharper. for the first time, he’s fighting back.

and you’re losing.

badly.

his strikes come faster, sharper. his movements are precise. he isn’t holding back anymore, and suddenly, you’re struggling to keep up. the wooden sticks crack against each other, loud against the backdrop of rustling trees and hushed whispers.

then, in a split second, he spins.

your stick is wrenched from your hands. before you can react, jungkook grips it, tugging it toward him—until you’re standing nearly chest to chest.

then—

he taps himself out.

a grin spreads across his face. the trainees erupt into giggles. your shoulders rise and fall as you catch your breath.

jungkook extends a hand.

"good game."

it wasn’t.

it wasn’t fair.

it wasn't good.

it was just so him.

instead of shaking his hand, you shove your sparring stick against his chest and avoid his eyes.

"excuse me," you mutter before turning away from the group and heading towards the garden.

jungkook watches you leave.

he doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t move. but, after a few beats, jungkook follows.

you don’t acknowledge him, but you know he’s there.

you can feel it.

the ground hums beneath your feet, a faint tremor shifting the soil like the earth itself is attuned to him. the air turns crisp, infused with something familiar—fresh rain on warm stone, something sharp at the edges, something distinctly him. being his soulmate changes everything.

good and bad.

so you make him work for it.

you take the long way to the garden, slipping between hedges, ducking beneath ivy, fingers grazing the thick vines trailing along the palace walls. the scent of jasmine clings to your skin as you move, quiet and deliberate. you don’t look back.

but he follows.

always.

by the time you reach the stone bench beneath the willow, the late afternoon sun drapes golden shadows over the grass. the leaves rustle overhead, and the distant chime of a wind bell carries through the stillness.

he doesn’t speak.

you wait.

finally, after what feels like forever, jungkook exhales.

“you didn’t come last night.”

the words break through the quiet, heavy and deliberate.

“hmm?” you hum, dragging the sound out just enough to make him second-guess himself.

his jaw ticks. “i felt sick.”

the way he says it—careful, measured—betrays him.

a test.

a trap.

you don’t spring it... not yet.

instead, you lift your gaze, watching him with something unreadable.

“exactly how sick were you?”

his expression flickers—just for a second—but it’s enough. the shift. the realization that you know he’s lying. that you didn’t come because you didn’t want to. that he had waited for you, and you had chosen to ignore it.

he doesn’t like that. not one bit.

for the first time since class, he looks at you. really looks at you. and for the first time, you let him.

the garden is quiet this time of day. that’s why you go. but now, the quiet stretches thin between you, taut as a thread about to snap. the leaves sway overhead. jungkook shifts his weight.

then, without thinking, you step forward.

he doesn’t move. just watches.

you lift a hand, resting the back of it against his forehead.

warm. not feverish, but—warm.

jungkook stills.

for a split second, he stops breathing. the world falls away, distant and unimportant, because all he can focus on is your touch. the way your fingers linger before you pull away.

he reacts before he can think.

his hand catches yours, fingers wrapping around your wrist—not tight, but firm. firm enough to stop you.

you blink.

he tugs you closer.

your other hand lands against his chest, steadying yourself against the solid weight of him.

he is warm here, too. warmer than he should be. his heartbeat is steady, but there’s something frantic beneath the surface, a tension coiled too tight.

jungkook doesn’t know what to do with this. doesn’t know what to do with the warmth spreading through him like something foreign. something dangerous.

his voice is quiet when he speaks. almost unsteady.

“what are you doing to me?”

your lips part slightly, breath catching—

then, you push away.

he lets go immediately, like your touch burns.

your expression smooths out, unreadable. you take a step back.

“nothing,” you say. “that’s the thing.”

jungkook exhales sharply, head tilting. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

you hold his gaze. then, deliberately, you let your aura slip. let it expand—thick, unmistakable.

resistance.

jungkook’s breath catches.

“i can’t read you,” he says eventually, voice low, like he hates admitting it. “i... i could for a day or two... but it doesn’t make sense. this does't make sense. you knew i wasn’t sick last night?”

you nod.

“... you can feel—”

“yeah,” you breathe. “i can feel your symptoms. i can feel when your body reacts to me. i can hear your thoughts when you let me—when you want me to. i feel the bond."

his fingers twitch at his sides. his brows pinch slightly, like this realization is foreign. you inhale, steady. then exhale, letting down your guard just enough for him to feel it.

your aura glows—not to the eye, but in presence.

jungkook stiffens.

“resistance,” he pieces together. “that’s… that’s why i can’t—”

“i had my guard down when we met. i was giving you a chance, and you…” your voice softens, eyes searching his. “you can’t manipulate me. i refuse it.”

his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. then, he scoffs, shaking his head.

“who said i had plans to manipulate you?”

“isn’t that your aura?”

“and if it is?” he steps closer, chin tilting. “come on, p. you think you have me all figured out?”

your lips curl into a small smile. not sweet. not cruel. something in between.

“yeah, i do,” you say. “the truth is, i’m not upset that you find me boring.”

jungkook waits.

“i’m upset that you’re boring.”

his brows furrow slightly. “what does that mean?”

you step back, turning toward the garden bench as you speak over your shoulder.

“you think i’m just a princess? fine. to each their own. you think you’re too good for me—”

“i never said that—”

“what?” your voice sharpens. “you think you’re not good enough, then? see, i’m confused—frustrated, actually. i understand i’m the newbie to the divinity—to this… to you,” you pause, eyes finding his. “but why should i stand around and let myself be collateral damage to your low self-esteem and ego?”

his expression hardens. offense first, then defense.

“who the fuck said shit about me having low self-esteem—”

“no one,” you almost laugh. “but that’s it, isn’t it? your ego can't swallow the fact that you can't read me. that you can't manipulate your place in my life... that there's a possibility that you can and will fail and have to depend on trust and love to be enough for people like me to stay.”

jungkook clenches his jaw.

"i don't know what the fuck you're talking about," jungkook spits. "do you think you're better than us because you're the divine?"

"no," you answer steadily. "i think i know more because i've been away from the divine. i have perspective. i know what's real—what's out there."

"i know what's out there too—"

"you didn't live in it," you breathe. "jungkook, people in the real world have to do things they don't want to do. no manipulation in time, no manipulation in feelings or things—they face life... you sleep during class. you don’t care when we spar. you don’t care about me—”

“___, you can’t possibly be calling me out and using these as your fucking excuses—”

“i just want you to know it’s okay,” you say it softer this time, like you mean it. “has anyone accepted you... just the way you are? if not, let me be the first one to do so. jungkook, do what you want. be who you are. figure things out or give up—it doesn’t matter. i can live like this, okay? we don’t have to be obsessed with each other. we can fight the bond if that’s what you really want—”

jungkook’s mind spins.

you’re saying so much shit that doesn’t make sense to him. this is escalating too fast. he wasn’t prepared for this. he didn’t know the weight of his words until now.

“it’s not what i want,” he spits out. “___, can you please slow down—”

you shake your head.

“i just want you to know this: you’re wrong if you think i’m the type to tend to someone’s inability to see their goodness. their worth… their purpose. i’m a big believer in accepting what you think you deserve. if you can’t accept me, that’s fine. maybe i’m not what you deserve. but that’s not on me, jungkook. you limit yourself. you don’t believe in fate. you don’t want this—”

“do you?” he croaks out. “do you want this?”

for a moment, you’re stunned.

regardless of all the shit he’s put you through in the past two weeks, you don’t have it in yourself to lie.

“i want more,” you say finally. “not this.”

more.

jungkook didn't know what that meant exactly... but this was a start. he isn't an apologetic type, so this is his... version of it.

trying.

again.

he stands in front of you, rolling his wrists, exhaling slow. his eyes flicker over your stance—checking, assessing, adjusting before he even moves.

“keep your weight forward,” jungkook instructs, tilting his chin toward your feet. “you hesitate too much.”

you nod, shifting slightly. he steps in, light on his feet, and you match him, falling into motion as he throws a testing jab. you dodge. pivot. counter. he blocks. you move again.

but it’s wrong.

every strike, every dodge, every block feels a second off. like walking out of rhythm with someone—close but not quite. you follow his cues, but there’s no flow, no instinct, just effort.

jungkook exhales sharply.

“again.”

he moves quicker this time, forcing you to react faster, but it only makes the disconnect more obvious. he shifts left when you expect right. your counters don’t land where they should. his frustration grows, simmering beneath his skin, evident in the slight drag of his feet, the way his breath turns shallow. he shakes his head, readjusting.

you know that feeling—the itch of something not working, of knowing it should but not being able to make it.

you step back, panting, watching the tension tighten in his shoulders.

“can we try something?” you ask, voice softer now.

jungkook pauses. 

he blinks at you, expression unreadable, before tilting his head slightly.

“try what?”

you don’t wait for his response.

“wait here,” you tell him before you turn on your heel, feet light against the stone path as you take off in a quiet sprint. the air is thick with the lingering tension of missed steps, of a rhythm neither of you could quite grasp, but you know—you know—it isn’t just about movement.

jungkook doesn’t call after you. 

he stays where he is, watching as you disappear.

when you return, there’s gold handkerchief is wrapped around your fingers. the fabric glows in the dim light, soft between your hands as you come to a stop in front of him, close enough that you see the slight furrow of his brow.

his gaze flickers to yours, unreadable.

“trust me?” you ask, already reaching up.

jungkook exhales. then, slowly, he nods.

you tiptoe, wrapping the cloth over his eyes, knotting it at the back of his head. his shoulders stay squared, but you feel the way his breath slows, the way he stills beneath your touch. his lashes flutter against the fabric before he adjusts his stance again, waiting.

this time, when you move, he doesn’t see you—he feels you.

“focus on me,” you tell him. 

“h-how—”

“i’ll focus on you too. maybe if we do this properly, our auras will meet. i can put my guard up any time, but putting it down is something entirely different. it’s beyond my control to put it down. it’s a reaction to you—your vulnerability, not mine.”

jungkook swallows, letting your words sink in. 

"how do you know this shit?" he attempts to hide his suspicion.

you laugh. "have you forgotten who my grandparents are? just because i was raised outside this palace doesn't mean i wasn't educated and trained for the divinity."

"you are the divinity."

"that i am, little prince."

you don't know it, but he rolls his eyes.

"and you're a princess."

"that i am not."

he chuckles. so do you. the moment is light.

then, he takes a deep breath and envisions you.

in his head, it’s hazy. there’s only so much of you that he memorized in a short period of time—but he hopes it’s enough. he recalls the way you turn your head and how pretty your neck is. how long your hair is and how your eyes smile before your lips curve into one.

before you know it, the air shifts and he strikes. there’s a slight tremor in your breath when you hesitate—a quiet hitch when he moves too close.

his body reacts without thinking, syncing to yours in a way sight never allowed. he follows the push and pull, the rise and fall of your heartbeat, matching it, learning it. and for the first time, there’s no disconnect—no distance or this… force that pushes him away. 

no struggle.

just instinct.

just you.

and then, in a way he can’t explain, he knows where you’ll be before you even move. 

he anticipates every pivot, every feint, as if something unseen is guiding him—no, pulling him. there’s a thread between you now, stretched taut between his ribs and yours, humming with energy. it tightens when you step back, loosens when you exhale. he feels it with every shift, with every breath you take.

it’s disorienting at first, the pull, the quiet certainty of it. but it’s right. more right than anything has felt in a long, long time.

his heart pounds, syncing to yours. for the first time, jungkook doesn’t fight it.

instead, he lets it fall.

in so many fucking ways, he lets himself fall.

you bend over and tug the handkerchief off of him. 

then, you extend a hand.

jungkook squints, adjusting to the night. then, he stares at it for a beat too long, his pride hanging in the space between you. you didn’t exactly win… but you didn’t lose either. regardless, he feels defeated. 

the garden is quiet except for the sound of both your breaths, still uneven, still trying to settle. the tie had been hard-earned—one final strike knocking him down, leaving him on his back, staring at the night sky like it held the answers he didn’t.

you wiggle your fingers. “good game?”

his lips press into a line before he exhales, reaching up. his palm slides against yours, rough and warm, and you brace yourself as he uses the momentum to pull himself to his feet.

too strong.

the force drags you forward, nearly colliding into his chest.

you stumble, hands reaching for balance, and jungkook catches you before you can fall completely. one hand wraps around your waist, the other grasping your arm, steadying you like it’s second nature. his fingers press firm into your skin, and for a moment, neither of you move.

your palm lands flat against his chest.

a sharp inhale. not yours.

his heartbeat hammers against your touch, wild and restless. the same way it felt when he was blindfolded—when he had to rely on instinct, when the rhythm of his breath synced with yours and something unseen pulled tight between you.

you lift your gaze.

jungkook is already looking.

your eyes meet and it’s like you’re the only thing he sees. you see it. you look into his eyes and freaking see what he sees. 

you. only you.

his lips suddenly part like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. his eyes flicker, unreadable, caught between hesitation and something heavier. his grip on your waist doesn’t loosen. if anything, it lingers, fingertips pressing in like he’s mapping out the shape of you, committing it to memory.

"what are you thinking right now?" he asks rather shyly. “since i… i can’t read your mind.”

your voice is soft. it curls between you, laced with something you’re not sure you want to name.

jungkook swallows. his grip tightens—just slightly, just enough for you to feel it… seconds stretch.

then—before anything else, before you let yourself think too hard about it—you smile. you let out a small chuckle, tapping his chest with the back of your hand.

"figure it out, jungkook."

the walk back is quiet, but the air hums with something… different. 

the weight of the sparring match lingers between you—his hands on your waist, your fingers on his chest, the breathless moment you shared before you pulled away. now, as you walk side by side beneath the moonlight, the space between you feels impossibly small, as if the night itself is pushing you closer.

your fingertips brush once. a fleeting touch, barely there. but it’s enough to send a pulse through the invisible string that binds you.

twice. his breath stutters. 

three times. 

fuck.

you hear it. 

not aloud, but in the space between your thoughts, in the echo of his heartbeat. it’s his voice though. you know it is… and it’s the sheer panic in his mind and the way his body that betrays him. you giggle before you can stop yourself, and jungkook tenses beside you, as if caught in something he wasn’t ready to admit. 

his jaw tightens. 

his ears burn red.

you reach your doorstep too soon. your heart is still racing, tangled up in him, in the weight of his presence. and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, "i can send a guard to take you back to yours—"

jungkook scoffs, low and amused. “i can handle myself.”

you fumble for an excuse. 

“it’s just that… it’s dark.”

he glances up, a slow smirk pulling at his lips. the night sky is dark, but the stars shine almost as bright as you. it’s enough for him to know where he’s going.

“the stars are out.”

you follow his gaze. the sky is vast, endless, and speckled with constellations that stretch far beyond the palace walls. the kind of night that feels infinite.

“they are…” you exhale softly. “wow, they’re so bright here.”

jungkook tilts his head. “you do live in the highest point of the palace.”

you laugh, shaking your head.

“still. regardless of where i am, i can never spot the big dipper.”

he hums, tilting his chin toward the sky. “really? it’s over there.”

“where?” you ask, mimicking his gaze.

“made you look.”

you gasp, swatting his arm, and he grins—really grins, boyish and unguarded, like the version of him that slips through when he forgets to keep his walls up. it sends something warm curling in your chest.

you soften, stepping back toward your door. 

“goodnight, jungkook.”

he lingers, just for a moment. the moonlight catches in his eyes, in the way he watches you like he wants to say something but doesn’t. instead, he exhales, the corner of his lips quirking up.

“goodnight, princess.”

you slip inside, shutting the door behind you. the guards reposition themselves and ask jungkook if he’d like to be accompanied back. he shakes his head, declining the offer. then, he puzzles the guards for a moment. 

jungkook doesn’t leave immediately. 

he waits, glancing up at the stars once more. and then, with a quiet flick of his fingers, the sky shifts. the darkness of the night sky almost flickers. the clouds part ever so slightly, rearranging the constellations.

the big dipper, now perfectly clear. 

just for you.