#bts greek myth au

[mirahuyooo]

Stranded (I) | jhs

— But, darling, if you hadn’t fallen, you wouldn’t have met him—the one who’ll render you mad and drunk with his love so much that you’ll never want to find sanity again.

word count: 10,458 (PART I) contents: ANGST, fLUff, drAMa, Theseus, stages of grief but its kinda all over the place, rUNAWAY PRINCESS!!! yikes, betrayal yIKES, implied drugging, hEARTBREAK, you have a sucky sucky childhood, daddy issues, a lot of artistic interpretation but I think this is my most favorite one AAAAAA, not necessarily accurate (i mixed up a lot of versions and made up some shit), a bit historical?? idk anymore, Greek Mythology AU pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader Inspired by Dionysus and Ariadne

[masterlist] | check out [Elysian Tales] & [BTS as Greek Myth Icons]!

A/N: HeRE iT ISSS! I HAVE BEEN SO EXCITED TO FINISH THIS LIL SHIT Hobi’s story is an ABSOLUTE favorite 😭💖

P.S. i've divided these into three due to limit issues so stay tune for the next part! ☆⌒(*＾-゜)v

START. | ▷  𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽

A heavy feeling rests in the pit of your stomach, as the ship continues to sail away from the land that birthed and raised you. That island was all you had ever known and yet there it was, having gone much smaller as time progressed—even the grand palace is now barely visible from such a distance, much more the people trying to pursue you.

You have committed treason—something you were well aware of. You had betrayed your father as an accomplice to your monster of a half-brother’s murder and had eloped with the very man who took its life.

A large part of you argues that you had done the right thing. Your half-brother was a vicious monster, who had slaughtered innocents in the maze you were forced to represent. He was an accursed reminder of the atrocity your late mother had done. Before his death, you had witnessed first hand the people being fed into the labyrinth as some sickening game guised as a sacrifice.

You, as your father's daughter, had been made mistress of the labyrinth as soon as you came of age—subjected to all sorts of pleas, cursing, and threats that its victims had thrown at you.  Their voices echo hauntingly in your head, as the memory of people walking into that dark pit and never returning constantly mar your mind. It is a nightmare you cannot escape from.

But that, now, has changed.

You, as princess of your people, have done justly to assist a foreigner in ending such pandemonium. The Minotaur is dead and with that, you have greatly helped in ending your father’s cruelty. You are a hero.

So, why does it feel like something’s amiss?

“Princess?”

A voice greets you from behind, startling you into staring away from the kingdom you were leaving behind. Butterflies erupt as you see Theseus before you with the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on his striking features. You smile softly as he lightly bows to you. “Theseus,” your voice radiates adoration as you say his name. “What brings you here?”

The chill wind of early autumn tousles his dark brown locks as he stares towards the fading form of Crete with you. “We will be stopping at the island of Naxos in a few hours,” he tells you with a side glance your way. “The captain and I deemed it best to rest there for a while and replenish any supplies we lost.”

“Of course. That seems sound,” you could only nod, not knowing much of maritime welfare after all. What you do know, however, was that the sea was as fickle as the god that reigned over it. You supposed that it was better to prepare for any catastrophe, than to expect everything to be smooth sailing.

Feeling a hand on the small of your back, you come back to your senses, only to see Theseus waiting for you. Only then did you also realize that on your shoulders was his cloak. It envelops you with warmth. “It’s late, princess,” he nods towards the quarters. “It’s been a long day, too. You must sleep.”

Words coming out a stammer, you clutch the cloak in your hands. “Yes,” you shyly blush as your heart hammers in your chest, “You too.”

The hero beside you smiled kindly, gesturing with his hand this time. “Let us go then,” he invites you, warmly—and for someone so used to the dark, cold walls of Crete, you couldn’t help but swoon.

What a blessed woman you are. 

You arrive at Naxos around late in the afternoon, taking a small boat or two with Theseus and a few members of the ship to a secluded part of the island while the rest stay to man the ship at a distance. Docking a great distance away from a small town, the land that greets you and takes you away from the roughhousing of the waves greatly comforts you. There were big rocks surrounding the little beach—something Theseus thought would do well to hide and border the camp.

A group began laying out the tents for the night, many hands trying to make quick work. You did your best to assist them in any way, but you were met either with cold glares or dismissive waves. You then attempted to help a frail boy struggling to carry a crate, but he, too, doesn't seem so fond of you. "I'll be fine in the hands of my people, princess," said the boy, voice calm but eyes failing to hide his contempt, as another fellow came to help him instead.

It was clear to you.

You may have aided their hero in slaying the Minotaur, but your conscience and reputation was still drenched by the blood of their people—the people that you couldn't save any sooner. In their eyes, you were still a princess of Crete—still the mistress of the maze that brought them before the gates of the Underworld.

And so, you endure their unwelcoming gaze, looking for something else to make yourself useful—for something else to prove you worthy of their trust.

While the experienced went to hunt animals for a meal tonight and the journey ahead, there were others that were tasked to retrieve some supplies from the local town. You decide to join them, but, in an instant, you are pulled aside by Theseus, who was already dressed for the hunt. "Where are you going?" he asks, voice hushed but with a little panic.

Furrows form between your brows as his sudden interruption holds you aback. "I want to help," you earnestly declare, but the conviction wasn't quite present, so you clarify yourself further. "I will accompany them to town an—"

"We cannot risk you to be seen in town, (Y/N)," Theseus exasperates, harsh tone taking you aback. "It'll bring us more trouble than we already have."

Your hastening heart seemed to stop altogether. "Ah… right…"

How come you never thought of that, (Y/N)?

He sharply inhales, breathing almost stopping altogether, upon seeing the flash of hurt in your eyes, your determination faltering. Theseus eases a little then, lacing a hand in yours while the other caresses your cheek. "Why don't you…" his mind reels as he thinks of a compromise, "why don't you help gather some wood for the fire later?"

Your eyes lit for a moment, but soon began to contemplate. Wood for the fire—yes. That seems accomplishable.

"Alright," you say, mustering a meek smile as you did.

With that Theseus called forth a young man. Andreas, he addressed him—the same boy that had refused your help with the crate earlier. "Take her with you to fetch some firewood," he tells him, and while the boy nods, you could tell he was hesitant.

Theseus turns back to you with a smile, happy to have settled this. The fabric that embraced your shoulders was moved to shield your face, his careful touch tingling against your skin. "Be careful," Theseus then instructs, urging you to still keep your identity secret, lest your father had sent out soldiers for either of your capture.

"You, too," you attempt to smile, a hand gently squeezing his own before the two of you part, worried but hopeful.

Andreas never spoke a word with you as the both of you gathered what you needed from the forest. In your arms were a bundle of sticks you thought were similar to what you saw him pick up. You couldn't really find it within you to ask, for fear of being seen bothersome by the lad.

"Why help us now?"

You nearly jump at the sudden words that reach you. Looking up, the young boy was standing a few feet ahead of you, his back turned as he did. "I'm sorry?" You stammer, unsure of what he meant. "What do you mean to say?"

You were greeted by a ferocious glare. "You let us suffer for years, but now you helped our people escape," Andreas sneered, "why?"

Tears sting your eyes but you blink them back. "I…" you began, but your mind seemed to run blank. "I needed strength," you say, mustering enough words to express your thoughts, "and a chance to go against my father..."

"Your prince is both," you give the boy a soft smile, hoping it would ease him.

Theseus was your key—not only to freedom, but also for repentance.

Still, the young boy scowls, brows furrowing so deep together that you fear they might never go back to normal. "I know my sins cannot be absolved for doing this," you plead, taking a step forth, "but I swear, I never found any joy in your suffering."

Andreas scoffs, but says nothing. He, instead, goes back to his task of collecting firewood and ignoring your existence. A shaky outbreath escapes you along with a few tears running down your cheeks but you wipe them away and focus on your task, too.

Idly tying the bundle with a rope, you began to think of your future.

Theseus had promised to make you his queen upon returning to Athens, but how easy would that flow, if your history as mistress of the labyrinth remained in their minds? What queen would be welcomed and loved that way?

You sigh and push such thoughts away. You'll deal with it when it comes, you tell yourself. A long journey awaits you, and you haven't even made it to Athens yet. Surely, a time will come for you to show your promising prowess to the people.

With that hope, you were a little more resolved and ready to return to reality, taking more time in indulging yourself with your surroundings.

The island was very much smaller than the kingdom you were accustomed to, but it certainly felt much more welcoming. Nature surrounded you as leaves crunched at each step beneath you. The sky in a blur of warm colors being tainted with the impending night.

It felt oddly serene—more soothing than you have been treated at the camp. A part of you was tempted to stay here instead.

Then, it came to you.

You were alone.

Heart shattering just a little, you stood up from where you were crouching. All around you was darkness. "A-Andreas?" you call out, voice shaking as you look into the expanse of the forest. "Where are you?"

Instead of a response, your ears pick up the sound of music instead—a flute perhaps, being played somewhere, but the direction seemed to lead further into the forest rather than out. Goosebumps littered your skin from the cold and the shiver that ran down your spine. It may be someone from the town, or a group of travellers like your own, you reason, but such news would either be bad for someone in hiding like you.

"Lost, are we?"

There was a sudden voice that filled the air—slurred but mischievous—rendering you to drop a few sticks as you whirl around like a fool looking for the source.

Who was that?

"Up here, dear."

The voice says again, the sound luring your eyes towards a tree nearby. Splayed across a big branch above was a dashing man—ethereal, really—looking down at you through barely opened eyes, as the early autumn wind gently blew on the part of his robe that dangled from the tree. He gives you a lazed grin as he pulls out a small flask from somewhere behind him. "Would you like some?" he then asks as he takes a generous swig of the drink, thin droplets of watery red running down his chin and onto his collarbone.

Is that wine?

Taken aback by his presence, you tear your eyes away from the stranger and gather what had escaped from your grasp moments before. He's inviting—tempting—but you mustn't stray. "No need, sir," you politely tell him, "I'm not thirsty."

No less from a stranger.

The young man nonchalantly shrugs. "Shame," he says, taking another swig as he makes no further comment.

You couldn't bear to dilly dally any further either—no, not with the darkened sky already upon you. Wait… a dark sky?!

With the realization that the night was settling in, panic settled in you. "Oh no," you huff, hurriedly gathering the ends of your dress to ready yourself to bolt back to the camp. "You should get down there before you fall, sir," you give the stranger a hastened smile. "Farewell!"

Not waiting for his response, you ran.

—and run you did.

It was ungraceful—something your late governess would've greatly frowned upon—but you make it back with only a few moments of getting lost. Your chest heaved as sweat ran down your skin, but the proud look you had on your face for coming back soon fell.

There was a bonfire already lit in the center of the camp, bright as could be.

The chatter lessens at your arrival, a few looking at your disheveled state, while Theseus approaches you. "What happened?" he asks, brows furrowed. "Andreas said you walked off on your own."

You glanced at the boy, who immediately avoided your eyes, almost sorry for what he did. Forcing a smile, you turn your attention back to Theseus and give him the bundles you gathered as you went along with the boy’s narrative so he wouldn’t be in trouble. "Yes, well," you cleared your throat, "I thought I saw something, and became distracted. I'm sorry."

Theseus doesn't question you any further, only nodding as he looks at the wood you gave him. "Ah…" he then grins, throwing a stick or two into the already roaring flames. "Thank you for these," he says in an attempt to assure you, "it'll keep the fire alive tonight."

You muster a smile back, nodding as you watch the fire crackle strongly before you. "Ah…" you idly hum, "you're welcome."

A nasty bout of hurt and irk began to bubble within you at how effectively useless your help was. You see the amount of wood Andreas gathered, realizing that, with how many they were, they only made your meager bundle useless. You could've easily not accompanied him and the group would've been fine for the night. Your effort and time was wasted, and yet remembering the weight of the situation is the water that douses your fury.

The people here have been hurt by your kingdom, and Theseus was the one that came to save them from their terrible fate.

Even if you are to have Theseus by your side, it comes to you very well that you are the foreigner amongst them—one against many, with no favors amidst your graces other than Theseus' gratitude and affections. You cannot give them your fury—not fully at the very least.

And so, you sat idly by the fire, listening to their merry chatter in your silence. The fire began to seem like images at some point—people dancing, twinkling stars, a merriment unlike any other—and it coaxes the beginnings of a smile out of you.

"Here."

Knocked out of your stupor, you look up at whoever sat beside you and see Theseus with a bowl of some soup. You gingerly take it from his hands. "Thank you," you meekly say, taking an idle spoonful to your mouth.

All the while, Theseus makes an attempt to salvage the silence between you both. "We caught two boars in the forest," he began, nodding towards the canopy of trees surrounding the camp. "A few of the others took one of the boats back to the ship to give the meat of one boar to the rest there."

You hum, scooping one of the meat chunks in your bowl. "Sounds wonderful," you tell him politely as you chew, "the cook did great work with the soup, as well."

Such words were a bit coated with sugar. No one will like the salt of the thoughts sitting in the back of your mind—not when any of you are in a position to complain when survival is essential. It wasn't the tastiest of meals you've ever had—the flavors clash at some bites—but it should fill the belly just enough.

Next to you, the Athenian hero nods thoughtfully.  “Ah, yes, Leda managed to make a meal out of what little we had,” he hums, “I’ll let her know you liked it.”

With nothing more to say, you only nod, not forcing yourself in engaging idle chatter with him. You didn't have it in you to. You suppose that after the journey you feel… tired? despondent?

Either way, your lack of motivation easily lets silence conquer the air between you and Theseus. He didn't seem to mind, spending time conversing with the captain about the boat and the travel ahead—a talk which easily slips past your head as you lose your train of thought in a daze looking at the racking fire ahead.

Your bowl lasts a little under half-filled in your hands by the time you decide on the last spoonful for your fill of dinner. A light chill of the sea breeze comes and goes, making you take your shawl off your head and wrap it around your shoulders once more.

The stretch of standing up bears a light grunt from your lips, catching Theseus' attention. "I think I'd like to go and rest now," you softly declared with a tired, tight-lipped smile—an excuse really but it wasn't a complete lie.

Theseus looks quite surprised by your announcement. "Already?" he says, almost to himself, "but you haven't finished the bowl…"

You fluster, but hand him the bowl nonetheless. "I apologize for wasting, but I really am full," you say. “The day has been… eventful. I think some shut eye would be good."

A furrow forms between Theseus’ brows, but he questions you no further. "Alright…" he sighs, pointing to a tent ahead. “That tent, over there, is yours,” he tells you, watching as you nod and smooth out your dress.

He, too, soon stands up, but he offers you a smile instead of walking you to your tent. "Sleep well, princess.”

Eyelids already growing heavy, you could only hum as you tread through the sand. "Good night."

The dream that Morpheus brings you that night was bizarre for someone who has lived the way you have. 

You were in a palace of sorts, though you hadn't any idea where and why.

Around you were drunken bodies who surrendered to the feel of the music that clouded the entire room. The melody of a flute lingers in the air and though you can't quite tell where you've heard it from, it’s somewhat familiar.

You, yourself, were feeling light-headed, swaying to the music. Someone brings a chalice to your lips and you let them.

The wine dances along your tongue—so addicting that you couldn't help but gulp more. 

"That’s right, drink," said a soft voice in your head, encouraging you further. "Ease yourself from your worries."

You almost do.

—but someone in the distance catches your eye. Standing in the midst of the sea of people, he stares at you relentlessly, and your heartbeat races and the haze in your head wears itself down. You forget whoever it was that handed you the chalice, forget them as you continue to look in the distance.

He's gone.

Where is he?

The world begins to spin around you—so dizzying that it makes you clutch your head.

Still, you try to reach where your eyes last saw him.

"Theseus?"

Your eyes had trouble fluttering open, but as soon as you did you were stricken with a pounding in your head. Was it possible for a dream to have such an effect? What was the dream even trying to say?

A groan leaves your lips, eyebrows scrunched together at the unpleasant feeling. The pain doesn't ease soon, and you attempt to massage it away, but as you move your hand, you become aware of the emptiness at your side. All of a sudden, it became so easy to forget the dream that you had.

Brows knitting much closer in confusion, you will yourself to get up and look around.

The tent is empty—almost untouched.

Has Theseus and the others gotten up already?

There was an attempt to stand and look around even more, your legs shaking as you do so. The clay pitcher on a nearby crate leads you to become aware of just how much your throat feels parched. Paradoxically, you also have the urge to vomit.

Nonetheless, you made a grab for the pitcher. The water flows down your throat in greedy gulps as you shakily hold it in your hands. Your headache slightly eases, but it's inconvenience is still there to torment you.

What did you eat last night to upset your head and stomach so?

Crawling out of the tent, the striking sun glared down at you so much that another hiss leaves your lips. You were only plunged further into bafflement, shielding your face from the heat. Seeing the sun so high up in the sky could only mean that it's well around noon alre—

Where's everyone?

All too suddenly, you were wide awake. Your hand falls to your side, letting the blistering heat of the sun strike down onto you. The deafening silence around you mirrors your thoughts as you try to take in what was going on.

The fire had long extinguished, leaving only charred wood and ashes.

There were no longer other tents but your own.

Most hauntingly, the ship was no longer at the visible distance as it was before.

At that moment, you couldn't breathe.

It takes everything in you to will yourself to move, carefully walking around what used to be the camp the crew had set up not more than half a day ago. There had been three or four more tents set alongside yours. There had been a large cauldron for the soup over the fire. There had been crates of supplies gathered from their hunt and travel around the nearest town.

All of that, gone.

Your eyes were frantically scanning for answers—anything to make sense of it all. There were marks in the sand—movement, many of them, leading to where the boats used to be. These were the telltale signs that you refused to believe.

Your heart pounded against your chest, and even as the wind blew your hair over your face, you didn't move an inch—couldn't—in your disbelief. "No," the word crawls out of your lips, hoarse from both sleep and hurt. You rub at your teary eyes furiously—even as they hurt.

"Wake up, (Y/N)," you tell yourself, "Wake up."

In the distance, you see the rocks that surround the beach, and an idea immediately comes to you. With barely any hesitation, you run—stumble—towards them, all as pebbles, shells, coarse sand, and force make your feet hurt instantly, but the panic in your veins rendered you reckless and desperate.

The struggle in climbing the harsh terrain was immediate for someone like you, who was taught to never do such rowdy, unladylike activities, but you couldn't bring yourself to give a damn at that moment. It could be the very key to the answer you were looking for.

And, unfortunately, it was.

The sea breeze blew the strands of your (h/c) hair to and fro, as wisps of the sea trickled onto your skin. You looked over towards the horizon, staring at what used to be the ticket to your freedom. The ship has sailed so far away that it was barely the size of the pebbles that stung your feet. It would be a futile attempt to try and swim towards it.

(Gods, with what offense your father had done to Poseidon, you never even learned how to swim.)

You hope it to be a terrible mistake—perhaps, some sorcery from a witch or the exhaustion from yesterday's voyage making their heads weary. You don’t know how any of those could be, but you would take anything other than the dread looming over you.

“Theseus!!!”

You cry out his name, desperate, your hold on the boulder only tightening, hurting your palms and heels. “Theseus!” you sob, your entire body shaking as your head pounds yet again at the volume and force of your yelling. The backlash of your brain sends you faltering—and, eventually, falling off of the rocks.

A voiceless cry and a hiss forces tears to fall from your eyes as you land harshly on your back. It hurts. Everything hurts.

You could feel the sand flitting onto the gashes that undoubtedly would’ve been all over your skin. The sea—that damned sea—nips at your bottom half where it reached you and makes your damned wounds sting even more.

This is just a dream. It can’t possibly be real, can it?

You rack your brain for memories of the warm light that had come in the form of Theseus—he who had come to you for help and promised help in return.

Yes, of course it isn’t. This is just a dream.

Theseus swore he would bring you to Athens with him, where you would be away from the clutches of your father’s wrath. He swore to protect you. He swore to introduce you to Athens as his accomplice and that you would spend a great life together. Together—that’s what he had promised you.

Forcibly, you fluttered your eyes shut.

This is just a dream—a nightmare.

You’ll soon awake to the real world, awake by Theseus' side. You’ll both go on into the ship and the voyage will continue until Athens comes to the horizon. He’ll protect you. He’ll come back. He'll—

You open your eyes again, ribs hurting as you take a greedy intake of air. You weren’t at all back inside the tent next to your hero. No laughter or chatter to be heard around you.

You were still at the shore, helpless and away from a ship that only navigated further from you.

You were alone on an island with a few supplies at your call, but little to no experience of surviving in such a cruel world. 

Theseus was gone. He had deserted you.

Your fists clenched at the blurred image of the ship’s massive white mast engraved in your head. It was taunting you.   

Relentless tears streamed down the curves of your cheeks, and you found it hard to get yourself up from the grainy ground beneath you. The very man you decided to trust with your life had now left you for death. Was this what you get for betraying your father? Had you not done the right thing after all?

“THESEUS!!!”

His name rips through your throat raw, as if he could hear you—as if it would've mattered.

"Theseus!" You scream again into the sky, your entire body aching from the fall and the heartache all the same. Your hands bury themselves in the sand underneath you, crushing whatever sand they could hold in order to try and satiate some of your anger. "How could you do this to me?!" you wail, bringing your good arm over your face to shield yourself from the blinding sunlight—from the world in general.

You remember seeing his face as that of a stranger—of how you saw him walk in with the new line of sacrifice, of how he told you of your kingdom’s terrifying reputation, of how he emboldened you to join his cause.

I trusted you.

Your heart aches, remembering his smile, his touch, his words—all of which had deceived you in turn. Theseus was the warm light gracing your life—the one that guided you out of that wretched place.

I loved you.

In the end, he was but a flame that scorched you.

You would rather die than bear a torture like this. At the very least with death, the pain ends. Your soul would reach the other side, crossing over to the Underworld where you could drown yourself in the Lethe River and forget. 

Forget the humiliation, the betrayal, and the foolish endeavor your life has become.

Forget the kingdom that made you and the kingdom promised to you.

Forget the man you gave your all to—your honor, your heart, your life.

As it seems to you, the gods plan to do nothing—perhaps, it is a punishment in and of itself to forsake you, to let you rot away. You could hardly lift a finger in your state of mind and body—could barely breathe without a sob slipping past your lips.

Eyes fluttering close, you settle for the next best thing to death—sleep.

Maybe then, you will never awake.

However rare such times would be, he would often go looking for places if he wanted to spend some time alone for himself. Naxos, being a land where he is most welcomed to call his domain, seems to have a lot of such places for him, which is why he wanders off around here as often as he does.

This time, the faint sound of waves began to reach his ears as he treaded the forest. Another beach but he doesn’t at all feel like going for a swim out in the open—not when the sea reminds him of the many times sailors have tried to kidnap him and sell him for a price.

However, Agrios, beside him, seems keen on the idea, halting and staring intently towards the direction of the beach. “Do you want to go on a swim?” he asks, nonetheless following him out of the forest line. “Perhaps I should’ve brought your siblings along…”

The beach was relatively peaceful, beautiful for a little gathering too. It'd do well to tell his people of this, but, as of the moment, it was still too open for his liking. He might be seen by someone he doesn't know or someone he does know and ruin his time alone. 

Perhaps, he'll instead go to that little cavern he found a fortnight ago. It should be around here, somewhere…

"Oh?"

Something catches his eyes, stopping him from his thoughts—a lone tent sits amongst the sand with a bonfire long dead and out. A curious case, he thinks. Many travel through Naxos in their journey, but what's a camp like this doing so far away from any of the towns?

Just as he came to snoop inside the tent, something from the corner of his eyes caught his attention as well. In the distance, he sees something by the rocks, Agrios already ahead of him and inspecting whatever it was. He walks closer, curiosity getting the best of him—as it always does. 

A woman.

As it had turned out, the very same one he faintly recalls meeting in the forest last night. The sunlight grazing the beach certainly makes her beauty much more apparent than the previous night where he had only spared it a glance beneath the darkness of the eve. "Oh my,"  he clicks his tongue, as his eyes flit over her sorry state and a frown unconsciously settles on his lips.

He wasn’t one to be too nosy, but he feels immensely compelled to look her over. Carefully leaning his ear against her chest, a faint heartbeat confirms that she was still alive. At a closer glance, he sees the tear stains that mar her cheeks and also takes note of how the pesky sun had left her skin a bit dry and sunburnt. Down the line, inspecting the wounds that ran down her arm, the frown upon his lips running deeper. So much pain, he thinks, shaking his head.

Above all, she shouldn't be left out in the open like this. "This is no place to sleep in," he tuts, looking expectantly at Agrios. “Don’t you think?”

The animal merely blinks back, eventually forcing a sigh from his lips. “Fine,” he grumbles, gathering her in his arms as he lifts and heaves with a grunt. He hasn't been doing much else other than drink, dance, and sleep, so this may indeed be an unfortunate downside of his reckless living. (Still, it somehow feels nice to carry her like this.)

Assuming that the tent nearby was hers for the taking, he carries her towards it, and places her onto the haphazardly assembled sheets and pillows. Her hair splays out and over her face and neck, but he soon makes sure she is in a comfortable position. Sleep, after all, is a great pleasure to have just as any.

As he dries the sea-soaken parts of her, the woman still shows no signs of regaining consciousness, her chest softly heaving in a slow and steady pace, and leaving him in silence. He doesn't worry himself just yet, however—after all, why would he?—knowing well he could call upon a certain someone for a little favor if he really needed to.

And so, he looks around the small tent, taking note of the sparse decor and the mere two piles of crates that Agrios has decided to sniff and inspect. Curious, he gets up and opens the top crate, seeing some clothes, blankets, and other trinkets along with a piece of paper.

Take care of yourself.

Another piece of the puzzle lays itself before him, and he doesn't like it one bit. He places it back in and sets the first crate down to gain access to the second one. Were these all that was left for her?

The next crate, as it turns out, were some rations good enough for a week or so. This makes an idea pop in his head, realizing that the young woman will most likely wake up hungry. He smiles softly at Agrios who has taken place near the makeshift bed. “Come on," he ushers the large cat to leave the unconscious woman alone. "Why don't we play chef, hm?”

The moment you came to, you were made aware of the ache in your head, along with the way your eyes could barely open when you will yourself to. All too suddenly, the lack of warmth by your side gives you flashes of what took place, but, for a moment, you think it to be a dream.

Some sort of commotion reaches you as you gain more hold of your consciousness. Incomprehensible mumbling turned into faint bits of a conversation.

"—ow could you be so cruel to me? I raised you!"

You could see a faint form of two shapes outside your tent, and yet the ruckus only seems to come from one voice.

"Don't you dare use that attitude on me, you little brat."

Getting up was a feat in and of itself, your muscles ached as you put all of your strength into just sitting up alone. Biting back a grunt, you do your best to crawl toward the opening—

"AHHHH!"

The scream that ripples from your mouth hurt your throat, but you could hardly think. In fact, you could hardly move.

A beast peers it's spotted head through the opening of the tent, large golden eyes boring a hole through you in alarm as if you, too, had shocked him. You could only stare back, paralyzed in fear with tears stinging your eyes.

"What happened?!"

All of a sudden, the tent opens further, moved by a man who reveals himself to you, not at all alarmed by the beast, but alarmed by you.

A moment of silence passes and it soon comes to you that this man seems to be the same stranger dangling from the tree last night. You crawl away from the tent opening—away from them. "Who are you?" you sneer, "and what is that?"

The man, himself, seems to snap out of his own stupor at the realization that you were talking to him. He scoots himself inside a little, not too close to you, but within the tent nonetheless. "I'm…" he pauses, "Hoseok, and he is my companion, Agrios."

Companion? That beast is his companion?

Another thing from his response soon also confuses you. Oddly enough, he didn’t answer your question readily—as if he had to think of it. "You don't seem certain of your name, sir," you raised your brow at him, defenses still up against the stranger and his companion.

Not at all bothered by the harsh edge of your words, however, he chuckles at the slip up you had pointed out to him. "I'm Hoseok," he repeats with more conviction, but the seriousness your glare bore didn’t impede his lollygagging. "Now," he instead pipes, turning around for a moment—only to reveal a bowl of fruits. "Are you hungry?"

You may have had no intention answering his invitation, but your stomach answers for you—a shamelessly loud grumble that renders your cheeks ablaze in embarrassment. The stranger laughs, but doesn’t tease further, only taking your hand to place the bowl in its care. “Feel free to nibble,” he urges you, “if you want more, you need only to ask. I caught some fish and roasted them outside.”

His excitement and openness truly takes you aback. Does this Hoseok not have suspicions against a stranger like yourself?

You raise the bowl back to him. “No ne—”

Your words fall short, slain by a gasp at the sight of your hands and arms—clean and free of the gashes you could've sworn marred your skin just hours ago. What’s left of them were faint red lines that tingled if you look or think about them too much. "My wounds…" you stammer, as you gawk at them in disbelief. "H-how?"

Hoseok doesn’t at all bother to take the bowl of fruits from you. "I know of a good healer," he simply tells you, getting up but sweeping the tent entrance open and tying them to the side so that your eyes could catch a glimpse of the little bonfire he had brought back to life from the previous night. Fortunately, his companion also follows him outside.

Though hesitant, you shakily push yourself up, cautiously crawling over to stop by the entrance. "Wounds don't heal in an instant," you call out to him, "for how long have I been unconscious?"

The stranger crouches by the bonfire, eyeing the fishes he had over the fire. "For about an hour or so now, and, as I have said," he turns to flash you a grin and a wink. "I know a really good healer."

In spite of your doubt, something else pulls you away from the situation as your stomach begins to churn at the sight of the fish cooking and make you salivate. Tempted, you were, you relent to a grape from the bowl he had given you. Some juice dribbles down your lips, but it quenches some of your hunger and thirst.

Looking back up, you see him and the spotted beast patiently waiting for you by the fire. Hoseok grabs one of the cooked fish skewered with a stick, offering it to you in case you prefer the distance from them.

Eyes flitting from the smoking fish and him, you hold yourself back for yet another question. "What exactly are your intentions with me?"

“None,” he assures you with a shrug, looking around the beach. “I was simply strolling through and saw you,” he then says, “thought you might need the help.”

I didn't need help. Stubborn, you were, but still, you eye the fish that was roasting over the fire.

The stranger seems to take note of this. “There’s nothing funny with it,” he then assures you, chuckling a little as he nods to his companion, who was now chewing on something. “You can eat over there, if you’d like.”

Finally, you idly take hold of the stick—you swear, your stomach let out a cry of relief. “Thank you,” your manners compel you to timidly tell him this as you take a bite out of the fish’s flesh.

Hoseok smiles warmly, the sight and feeling of it making your heart clench. “You’re welcome.”

For the hour that followed, Hoseok and Agrios stayed with you as they ate, and as some subtle form of gratitude, you let them. You kept your distance, stayed by that little tent of yours as Hoseok tells you of the towns he knew around the island and the general path towards them.

Whether he knew your tragic case of abandonment or not, he makes no mention nor pry of it, and you don't tell him of your wanted status either. It would be best to stay away from strangers.

And so, well into the afternoon, you usher them away after falsely promising to remember his guidance, the man and the beast disappearing into the forest with no more than themselves with them. (The fishes he caught but didn't cook, he gave to you for dinner, and this notion guilts you inside for being so cold to them all along.)

Here you were, once again left alone by the sea.

By this point, you have gained some strength—enough to leave the shell that is your tent to finally gaze at the waves you've been hearing ever since you woke. The golden sun sits amidst a sky of oranges and pinks, its light sending the sea glittering as it's readying to leave its throne for the nightfall.

It was a taunting sight—beautiful, but taunting.

Yet, a voice in your head murmurs a treacherous thought to soil the fragile peace you were in.

Have they reached Athens by now?

Your lip trembles but you trample it beneath your teeth, hoping to kill the incoming tears. It's successful—to some degree. Though the pain in your heart hasn't at all gone away, the streams that ran down your cheeks were not as fierce as before.

In the silence, you were left to wonder what had transpired in the hours you were unconscious. You have reason in you to believe the key that had led Theseus to leave you were his people—they were, after all, the very reason he had snuck into Crete in the first place.

Had they convinced Theseus to leave you?

Had he been tricked by them in some way?

Or, had he no problem agreeing with them at all?

Your heart shatters at the thought of the latter, but your mind soon drifts to what Andreas had said in the woods.

You let us suffer for years…

There’s reason and right in his anger—in their anger—this you knew well. They do not owe you forgiveness nor forgetfulness for the cowardice you’ve done to them in the years before.

If you had been a braver person against your father’s harsh reign, would they have found you befitting to take the place next to their hero?

If you had tried a little harder to be of help during the travel, would they have had a change of heart and taken you with them?

If you had—

Nonsense, there’s nothing you can do about the could-have-beens. You've already betrayed your people. You've already left. You've already messed up.

At the end of the day, the bitter truth now is that you’ve been stranded here—already alone and away from Crete and Athens all the same. Mayhaps, that is why you’ve been left like this—your salvation and your price to pay, your escape from Crete and banishment from Athens altogether.

You will belong nowhere else.

With not much left to do nor care for the view, you crawl your way back into the tent where it's a little more quiet. The immediate thought of sleep comes to you as your eyes land on the makeshift cushions, and the same thought as before crosses your mind.

Sleep. Let’s sleep.

It was then your train of thought stops. An animal pelt cloak—one from a dark grey wolf, you think—had been near the bedding, something you vaguely remember taking off of you when you woke earlier. Theseus doesn't have one—you would know—which can only mean that it was another token left by that stranger earlier.

A part of you is irked to be left with this, as it's a reminder of yet another man who entered your life unannounced. Such things aside, you were reasonably grateful too, as it's something you can make use of.

Enough thinking, another part of you insists, reminding you of what you had thought to do in the first place. Sleep.

A sigh leaves you as you lay yourself down, and with no other warmth to encase you, you relent in reaching for the cloak, curling within its hold and fluttering your eyes closed.

A sense of unease blossoms within you, forcing you away from the realm of Morpheus. It's dark, even after you awoke from the abyss of your slumber. It must be nighttime already then. Have you slept for that long?

Another thing registers in your head as you regain more of your consciousness. You become aware of the damp walls of the tent and bedding, of the chill in the air, of the sound of rain.

What on Earth—

The row rumble from the sky sounds like that of a beast, freezing you in an instant with the wolf pelt tightly clutched in your hold. A bright strike of lightning across the sky faintly illuminates the tent, squeezing a screech from your lips at the deafening thunder that follows it.

You could tell that the rain has no plans of surrendering any time soon. The waves themselves are getting angrier by the minute, crashing against the shore and rocks as if to give them a beating.

Zeus and Poseidon must be furious.

A curse leaves your lips as you see more of the rain soaking the tent, droplets already forming to come down at you. The howling winds aren't showing much kindness either. You don't know for much longer your tent can hold. At this rate, you'll be drenched, too.

Gathering your bearings, you sit up and push aside the discomfort of being in slightly damp clothes, and heave the cloak over your head. You give yourself a moment to think of where to get yourself a better shelter from the storm.

The forest might do well to aid you, but it'll also house other creatures—some of which may have the capabilities to kill someone as defenseless as you. Perhaps, you can find a large, pointed stick to us—

"Hey!"

You jolt as you hear a voice outside. Is that…?

The tent flaps pry open under someone's urgent grip, and you see the person you had suspected it to be. As he tries to catch his breath, Hoseok looks you over with a dismayed shake of his head. "I knew you'd still be here."

You look at him with your mouth agape. “What brings you here?” you question over the downpour, brows furrowing together.

The man adjusts an umbrella over his head, promptly leaving your query unanswered. “Come along,” he instead tuts as he urges you out of the tent. "This is no place to be in the middle of a storm."

The tent shakes as yet another thunder booms across the sky, causing the two of you to flinch. “Now,” he says, “will you be stubborn or will you let me help you?"

The umbrella he's carrying struggles against the wind, what with it being made from only wood and leaves. The gentle curls of his black hair cling onto his forehead, forcing him to swipe them back. "I think it’s a great time to accept, hm?” he says, an uneasy chuckle forced past his lips as he tries to secure a better grip on the umbrella.

With a deep intake of air, you push yourself up and come out of the tent. This brings a smile to his face, one that you choose to ignore. “Fantastic,” he muses, as you duck beneath the struggling shade of his umbrella. "Nothing else?"

"None," you curtly tell him. I have nothing left.

The stranger was caught off guard for a moment, but he soon nods and gestures to the dark forest ahead. "Come," he says, "I know a place."

Although the trees keep most of the howling winds at bay, the mud cakes the ends of the worn dress you were wearing, turning the faint pink an ugly brown. The rough ground makes you walk carefully too, lest you step on anything that can make your bare feet hurt any more than it already is. The darkness of the forest terrifies you, and a part of you urges you to cling onto the stranger lest you get lost in the midst of the storm on your own.

Doubt, however, gnaws away at you at the same time, making you keep a little of your distance. You steal glances in between calculating your steps and following his lead. Can I truly trust this man?

The possibility of his betrayal makes you spiral into multiple other possibilities. If he dares to do anything, then I can shove him or hit him with something, and make a run for it.

As this plan for a what-if forms in your head, Hoseok takes note of your wariness—of how you cocooned yourself within his old wolf cloak, of how you gingerly inched away from him, and of how guarded your face is even as you were occupied with your thoughts. Understandable, he thinks, but it won't do her well to be sick because of the rain.

Leaning the umbrella over to your side, he once again thinks of the quickest path to a shelter he knows of. It’s around here somewhere.

Still, that won't seem to make the journey any less difficult. The rain was stubborn—as stubborn and proud as a man he knows—the thunder bellowing every once in a while to scare the daylights out of you. Though the forest was easier to navigate for the likes of him, it definitely doesn’t make it any less pleasant to tread through. He, himself, feels unpleasant walking through the forest in a state like this.

A surprise, however, soon comes to the young man. It appears that, at some point, you have noticed the position of the umbrella, and your conscience couldn't seem to take the unfairness for his side, because you had let your bodies huddle a little closer. Your hand even lightly holds onto his tunic as you look elsewhere.

Hoseok hides a smile at all of this. How sweet of her to care.

It was fortunate for the both of you that it didn't take too long for you to have reached your destination—just as the umbrella was about to give up, too. He steps under the stone roofing, arm gesturing with a welcome. "Here we are," he sings, tossing the umbrella aside and wringing out the rainwater from his clothes.

You gawk at the structure of the building as you step under its shade, the frown and furrow between your brows deepening. It was dark—especially with much of the moon obscured by heavy rain clouds—but you could make some sense of your surroundings. “This is a shrine,” you tell him, matter-of-factly, staying put where you were.

Hoseok stifles a chuckle. “And?”

A frantic trace of panic besets your face at his lack of concern. “We may offend the deity that reigns over this place,” you scold him, crossing your arms across your chest.

This refusal comes across as puzzling for him. He supposed all mortals are devoted in some sense of respect and fear for the gods, but you were walking too carefully on eggshells—driven mostly in fear. Have you or your family offended a god before?

Hoseok doesn't linger on the thought any longer, giving you an assuring smile instead. “It’ll be alright,” he tells you, “Trust me.”

It’s my shrine after all.

Still, doubt mars your expression, your mind being too stubborn to give in to his assurances. "We mean no disrespect here, after all," he attempts to reason, "just shelter from the storm, yes?"

You give it a few seconds, eventually nodding timidly. "Right," you say, almost as if you were still trying to convince yourself that this won't incur divine wrath. You shed the cloak from your shoulders as you take your first steps to follow him into the shrine.

Inside, a few torches persevered, showing a myriad of offerings laid out on an altar. Something else, however, draws Hoseok's attention elsewhere. Prayers and offerings to gods in a shrine were obvious, of course, but one of those in the altar held a prayer stronger than the others.

The young god turned his focus into hearing whatever words were left by whoever made them. Multiple voices echo through his head…

Lord Dionysus, we thank you and this island for becoming a brief respite for our weary travels. As told, to you, we leave a maiden of fair beauty and heart. May she make wonderful company.

His eyes widened, coming to a stop. A maiden? Who—

“Are you a follower?” you ask him out of the blue, having noted his ease in navigating through the premises. “Whose shrine is this?”

Hoseok, knocked out of his stupor, was startled for a moment, looking back at you as you continued to take in your environment. Nonetheless, once he gets a hold of himself, he doesn't answer the first of your questions, simply the "who" of it. “Dionysus,” he tells you, watching as a hint of recognition sparks in your eyes.

“The wine god?”

Hearing this, something warm flutters within his chest. Recognition feels quite nice, he thinks, as he doesn't hold back the grin that comes to his lips. “You know of him,” he muses, quite pleased. “Not many do.”

Hoseok hasn't been here in a while, as he isn't one to be too zealous in his duties in the first place, but this shrine is one of the first ever built for him by his followers—proof that he's made some sort of path to the pantheon. Even then, he has a long way to go. He's a wandering new god, not at all embraced by many, when they view wine, frenzy, and pleasure as things that get in the way of the philosophy and intellect that many Greeks praised.

As he takes off his own rain-sodden cloak, you tuck the fur cloak onto your arm and idly look around. “I’ve heard tales from my brothers’ teachers in passing,” you tell him, gazing at the art carved into the wall of a merry feast. “He brought wine to the world, yes?”

A part of him is tempted to swipe the wine from the offerings and chug it, but decides against it, lest it sends you in a panic over discourtesy to the gods and whatnot. “Mhm,” he instead happily hums, “a marvellous invention, isn’t it?”

My magnum opus.

Fiddling with the fabric of your dress, you purse your lips together at the thought of the wine this stranger seems to be so proud of. You’re not quite sure of how to respond to him. On one hand, you have lived to understand the perils of losing oneself to wine—how they can turn the angry, angrier and the sensible, nonsensical. On the contraire, the notion of losing yourself to wine and forgetting all else tempts you. “I haven’t tasted much of it,” you simply go on to say, “but I suppose it is.”

At this, Hoseok whips his head towards you. “You suppose?” he repeats, eyes starting to glint at the prospect of challenge. “Please do remind me to bring you all the wine in the world to taste.”

You lightly scoff at his musings. “Well it’s certainly not appropriate to do so now,” you gesture to the rain outside and the state of you both. “We’ll wake up with a fever otherwise.”

Those words take a few seconds to register in the man’s head. “Oh, right,” Hoseok quips, fiddling with his ear as he thinks to himself. I forgot about that. Humans and their fickle bodies.

Looking around his shrine for something that could be a change of clothes for you, he soon returns to you with a colorful fabric. “It's not the most fashionable," he chuckles, "but it’s the best I could find."

The gesture seems to have taken you aback. "Oh—You didn't have t—" the words were a scrambled mess on your lips, but ultimately ended with, "Thank you."

Hoseok gingerly places the fabric into your hands, his own brushing against your skin. Her hands are cold. "Most welcome," he hums thoughtfully, “I will leave you to change then, yes?”

With the chill in the air, Hoseok had deemed it good to light a small fire to bring some warmth inside for you as you change. Though raised by satyrs in the wilderness, foraging, unfortunately, truly wasn't his strongest suit—this he knew well as he had struggled to find some decent kindling for the both of you.

Eventually, he had managed to come back to the shrine with the wood, and some fruits for the two of you to nibble on. The fire was born from one of the torches still lit. It crackles before you both, very much alive since he had imbued it with his power to not perish so easily.

Between the both of you was silence, a little bit more comfortable than before—one you, surprisingly, break.

“Why did you come back for me?”

Hoseok stops chewing on a wild berry midway, brows rising for a moment when the sound of your soft voice takes him aback. “Come again?”

Deep in thought, it takes you a while to turn to him, brows furrowed with genuine confusion. “We’re strangers to one another,” you tell him, “and yet you would come for me in the midst of a storm and help me find shelter…”

You ask him the summary of all the inquiries in your head. “Why help me?”

Truthfully, Hoseok doesn’t have an answer to that himself. It had been a spontaneous feat, taking you back to your tent, but something in him told him to take it a step further—to tuck you in with his fur cloak, to fetch you something to eat, and to call upon his half-brother for a favor to tend to your wounds.

When the rain began, he had pushed back the thought of coming to check on you, telling himself that you could’ve found yourself shelter already—that you’d be fine on your own—and yet, here he was.

A shrug of his shoulders was all he could do. “I suppose…” he murmurs, mulling over his words. “You reminded me of myself, in some way or another…”

When Hoseok was born yet another bastard of Zeus, he lived most of his life in the wilderness, constantly having to flee from the wrath of Hera and other such threats to his life. Even before he had discovered his divine potential, he wasn’t quite welcomed in either Earth nor Olympus.

Lost and helpless—that’s what you two are.

“Why not help?” he simply muses in some sense of kindred.

It felt foreign for him to participate in such soft conversation. He had been so used to nonsensical, slurred discussions that lead to nowhere, or recklessly screaming to song and dance alike.

The silence that follows makes him—a god—squirm as you stare into the fire, lost somewhere in your head. You made no rebuttal against his statement, which only makes him even more antsy.

In spite of his impatience, however, he could tell you were hesitating to speak of something, and so, he lets you simmer in your thoughts just a bit more. It takes another moment of silence before you break it yet again. “I committed treason by helping someone escape with their people. I fled with them,” you confess, voice shaking, “but they all left me while I was sleeping.” 

His brows knit together, envisioning the gist of the events that had taken place. Though he had spent most of yesterday in a drunken haze, he had heard the nymphs talk of a group of travellers in passing through the—

Wait a minute.

The prayer earlier rings in his head, and he soon gawks at you, who continues to gaze into the fire in solitude. You can't possibly be the maiden, right?

Well, you are of fair beauty, but no, no, no. If you were, surely you would've been left in better conditions.

Either way, Hoseok thinks betrayal is such an ugly thing that neither god nor mortal likes the notion of. He knows not what led you to commit treason, but to have forsaken your people to join others, only to have them forsake you is a terrible thing. “What a load of bastards,” he abhors, before partly jesting. “Shall we ask the gods that their ship sinks?” 

A light scoff leaves your lips as you shake your head at him. Hoseok watches as you say nothing more of the tale, and he knew it well not to pry any longer.

The wine god finds it astonishing how similar yet different the two of you are. Both cast aside in some way or another, and yet the two of you walk different paths. While he ventures recklessly, you tread the same, paved path you’ve ever known, too scared to break away lest you get your heart broken again.

You should learn to let go every once in a while.

“My name is (Y/N)...” you tell him, knocking him out of his little reverie. Your voice was quiet and hesitant, but you still willed yourself to look at him properly, eyes carrying sheepish guilt. “I apologize if I was rude to you.”

Hoseok couldn’t help the smile on his face as he realized that he had earned enough of your trust to know your name. “Glad to finally put a name to a face,” he muses, “and, rest assured, I hadn’t taken any offense, at all.”

A soft, grateful smile blooms on your lips, illuminated beautifully by the golden glow of the fire. This hint of happiness instantly makes Hoseok wonder what pure bliss would look like for you. He hardly holds back his mischief, as he tilts his head with a teasing grin.

“Does this mean to say we’ve become friends?”

At this, you roll your eyes. (But you smile all the same.)

START. | ▷  𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽: @dreamamubarak @unknownwalkingobject @park-jimin-isnt-real

#bts au #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts writings #bts greek myth au #bts greek mythology au #bts gods au #bts imagines #jung hoseok imagines #bts jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #bts jhope x reader #jhope x reader #jhope imagines

[moirarp]

« 𝘿𝙀𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙀 » ⇀ 11.29.22

BTS - V BTS - Jungkook TXT - Beomgyu NCT - Doyoung VIVIZ - SinB

#kpop roleplay #krp #literate rp #mewe #mewe krp #mewe roleplay #mewe rp #oc roleplay #semi literate rp #mafia rp #greek myth roleplay #au roleplay #departure #bts #taehyung #jungkook #txt #beomgyu #nct #doyoung #krpnet

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave you (Pt. 39)

 (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Tae comes out, you confront jin about the mating marks, and jimin gets a forest sized stick shoved up his ass (not literally)

Pairings: Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin, Beta! Yoongi,

Tags: Angst, hurt/comfort, Verbal arguments, Shame, Dysphoria, coming out, overly involved metaphors, talk of god/religion, Trans characters, Trauma, implied PTSD, talks of the m/c’s past suicide attempt in chapter 5, talk of sexuality, Pansexual! Jimin, implied autistic! Jimin, meltdowns,

W/c: 7.7k

A/n: Sorry in advance for being a meanie~ (author continues to be not sorry at all~) i will try my best to update next weekend as well so this cliffhanger doesn’t leave you wanting too much

Previous Chapter- Masterlist

(20 years prior, Jimin)

The sun is burning much too hot for the end of September- although the children in the schoolyard would never think to comment on it. Too busy chasing after kickballs like small brightly color planets and shouting ‘tag you’re it!” as loud as they can. Every inch of happiness accompanied by little feet pattering across the parking lot like the first fallen leaves of autumn. The cold hasn’t hit them yet. 

The woods wait at the edge of the playground, an impenetrable fortress of green. Full of spiky bushes and icky things. Here, where civilization is butted right up against the edge of the wilderness, safety is carefully cultivated within chain link fences. Anything to keep the fun in and the fear out.

Two children sit on the swings apart from all the rest. The chains are rusty and squeaky but no less loved. Jimin loves to watch the forest move. He loves to watch the trees blur like faraway monsters dancing, lifting their silvery leaves to the wind and showing their undersides.

Tae knows Jimin likes it so that’s where they always sit, side by side like this at recess.

Although their relationship is not without their exchange, Jimin smiles down at his light-up shoes as he listens to Tae talk. Tae looks handsome as usual in his Pokémon tee-shirt- his chubby face already belying the beauty that he’ll have when he’s older. Jimin can see it, can feel the pitter-patter of his heart in response to it.

He might not know what love is yet, but he’s learning.

Tae sways the way that trees do at a distance, his movements all graceful. He knows Tae will be beautiful when he's older the same way he knows his parents are going to get divorced one day; his mother spends hours in the bathroom, plying and stretching and picking at the barely forming wrinkles on her face.

Aphrodite has a way of letting you know when she’s there, whether in hatred or in love.

Tae has told Jimin the Greek myths time and time again; he likes the tale of Achilles the best. But Jimin can’t read yet so Tae reads to him, Jimin always asks to hear the tale of Orpheus because that’s Tae’s favorite.

Jimin and Taehyung aren’t JiminandTaehyung yet, they won’t be for a few years more. But for now, Jimin watches Tae talk about his most recent book, cupids touch in every little blink.

“And then he just like- pulled him from the dragon’s mouth right before it could snap shut. It was kind of gross to read but I promise Minnie it was so romantic!” 

Tae says it like it’s quite possibly the best thing. Like he’s just said, “I’ve won the lottery” or “I’ve saved the last fruit snack package for you” or, “my mom and your mom said we can move into the same room, we spend so much time with each other anyway, why should we dream in separate places when you are my dream?”

(Although the first is equally as unlikely as the last. Jimin and Taehyung’s parents continue to be a thorn in their sides and only let them have sleepovers twice a week during the school year.)

“You like reading a lot of books like that” Jimin comments, “books where the alpha’s a boy and the omega’s a boy.” Tae’s eyes are mini smiles when he glances up, drawing what looks to be a dragon’s tooth in the dirt with the edge of his shoe.

“Really?”

Jimin doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say what he wants struggling with his words the same way he always does (the same way that has his teachers exchanging pitying glances.)

“Do you like boys?” he blurts, and when Tae looks up, his cheeks are their normal color, not ruddy or pink like cupid might have kissed his skin. Not like Jimin who feels his cheeks flaming. “-Because I was thinking the other day when you asked me if I had a crush on any of the girls in our class, and I- I think I like boys.”

“Oh,” Tae says, “that’s okay, I think I like boys too.”

Taehyung’s mind dips, thinking thoughts of 'he doesn't like girls. But that's okay because Taehyung can be a boy if Jimin wants a boy.’ and  Jimin’s mind gathers up thoughts of omega Tae and alpha Jimin and casts them in a Greek myth. Tae the omega in a pretty purple skirt- back when boy omegas didn’t dress like boys yet. And Jimin hums, satisfied by his daydream.

Later that night when his mother makes him pray (because Jimin’s mother is always making him do that) Jimin asks very very sincerely, as honestly as a 6-year-old can muster.

He perches on the edge of his lightning McQueen bedspread and whispers his small hopes to the heavens above. Starts that shine in all their coldness and give nothing easy to the boy below.

"Dear god. I’ve been thinking; I’ve got in mind some improvements you could make. 

If you have a choice make me an alpha and TaeTae an omega. Whatever you do- don’t make us the same, please. I want to have Tae with me for a long long time and the world has a way of separating things that are the same. So please- if you do exist- make us different."

 There wasn’t anything divine in that little bedroom, but I guess in a wicked way, god insisted.

~-~

(Now, You) 

Sometime later, when the sun has dipped below the horizon and Jimin’s tireless pacing has stopped, you and Tae ready yourselves for what waits outside of the library room.

You stand in the half darkness barely a few inches apart, enswathed in the comfort you steal from each other regularly and know that it can’t last for long. Doomed and Starcrossed. The 8 by 10 walls that have been your safe place to be torn down soon, the resting place for this secret all vacant. 

It’s all operating on borrowed time. After tonight everything will change (and only time will tell if it will be for the better.)

So you wait for just a few minutes more, and spend just a little longer enjoying each others company. You don’t want to let go of this just yet. You press yourself all along Tae’s side to comfort her and she shakes harder when your hands retract from her waist.

(Something about the space has you convinced that’s where your hands belong. You can’t deny that you’re drawn to the inches of honey skin above her hipbones. You have a way of knowing what parts of Tae don’t make her as  dysphoric as the rest. Your touch like a breath of wind to a flame making her burn brighter.)

She pets over the back of your head as you look up at her. Cheek squished against her chest, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I think I will be, just-” her hand wraps with yours, her thumb rubbing over the back of it, warm and small and so so important. “Don’t let go, okay?”

“Never,” you promise. 

You give her hand a single squeeze in promise and step forward to open the door (because you know Tae’s not strong enough to open it on her own) letting the light and the noise of tense conversations slip in. Tugging her unwilling form out into the open. 

The pack is stands around the kitchen island in varying positions of distress. Usually by this time of night dinner would be underway; steam would be gathering in a haze above the burners, and half of the sink would be filled with cutting boards (because Jin somehow always manages to use every one of them when cooking). But instead, the light hangs too bright after your time spent in the darkness, the fluorescences stark and the air heavy with the scent of your packmates distress.

Hobi is the only one sitting, head in his hands and his fingers threaded in his dark hair. Namjoon’s hand hovers on his shoulder and squeezes at it lightly, fingers itching towards a scruff. Jin looks like he’s been through it, his shirt unbuttoned and his hair sticking up in the back, far from his usual vision of omega grace and beauty. 

Hobi smells as unhappy as he did the night you almost left; the night where broken glass glittered on the floor where Yoongi stands now. Maybe you should have regarded it as a promise of more to come, but you’ve never believed in omens.

Jimin isn’t much better, twitching with wild jerky movements, anxiety made alive, Jungkook tries to talk to him and calm him down. the omega cups his cheeks, speaking to him in that low happy way that jungkook speaks when he’s nesting, but you can tell just from watching him for a few seconds that it’s having the opposite effect on Jimin. 

Jimin needs something to bite, he’s biting his lip so hard it looks like he’s going to tear through it. Your mate is the first one to notice your reappearance, his head jerking in your direction.  

You and Hobi make eye contact and it darts away as quickly as it came. His cheeks look puffy- like he’s been crying, and the guilt threatens to swallow you like a tidal wave.

It’s a good thing Jimin doesn’t immediately notice the closing of the door, his back to it. His words make you feel winded, “-So they’re mated- no shit.” Jimin says, “I don’t get why it’s a big deal.”

He can be a bit brutal sometimes, words like a blunt knife with the way that his brain makes sense of things. He’s so strung out on worry that his whole body shakes, everything from his knees knocking to his blonde hair trebling, all messed up like he’s been tugging at it.

Jungkook sighs when Jimin’s hands curl around his wrists and he pulls his hands away from his face,  he stands with his shoulders curled in, watching Jimin like he’s waiting for him to break. “We have bigger problems like Tae- He’s-“ 

You shift your weight from one foot to another and Jimin whirls, eyes settling on Tae like she's the first bit of sunlight slipping over the horizon after a long long night.

Jin sips at his water from the sink, every little movement belying his anger. But it's flagging, forced and in-genuine. Jin will have to let it go sooner rather than later but you have more important things to focus on as Jimin stumbles to Tae’s side and the rest of the pack quiets.

“Tae baby- just tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it- is it about the marks-“ his voice goes a little less frantic, a little more measured. He reaches out to touch her and lets out a heartbreaking whine when Tae flinches back from her soulmate's touch.

You never thought you'd have to step between the two of them, but you find yourself doing just that. Hiding Tae from view because she already looks like she wants to dash back inside the library room and hide some more.

Jimin’s eyes flicker down to yours just briefly but he doesn’t look angry about it- no- if you had to pick one word to describe Jimin’s look it would be impressed. But there isn’t space for much else but panic when it comes to Tae’s sadness and Jimin's tireless anxiety.

Maybe it should hurt more, the fact that Jimin doesn’t really care about you right now. (But maybe you’d be a hypocrite if you complained because Tae is also your priority).

Jungkook huffs, “Would you stop hyper-fixating on Tae for a second” and remember that you have 6 other packmates he means to say, but you send him a single withering look. You don’t think that anyone needs to cut Jimin down more, this is hard enough. Jimin barely even turns at Jungkook’s bitten words.

“No, it’s not that. I’ve known about the marks for a while.” (The night you exchanged your secrets holds a special place in Tae's heart. Tae hadn’t been prepared to give you anything- much less the love that burns through her now. But that hadn’t stopped you giving her your all.) 

Tae’s confession makes more than one packmate straighten up, Jin narrows his eyes accusingly but avoids your gaze. 

Tae’s glance down at you is more steadying than you’d ever admit. Makes you feel surer as you square your stance against Jimin. You reach to touch Jimin’s hand, stopping at the last second letting him decide if he wants to touch your right now, after a second he moves to take it, although his worn palms feel clammy.

“Minnie, would you just come and sit for a second? Can we just- can we talk?”

Jimin has eyes for only Tae- but it’s Jin who sighs after a breath, quieting Minnie with a touch to his shoulder. You wish people would stop touching Jimin without asking right now, everything about his body-language indicates someone who doesn’t want to be touch. 

Jin looks at you from under his bangs, not saying a word. The cold hurt in his eyes startles you. It’s not quite detached, but you have never seen Jin so quiet with his sadness before nor have you ever been in a position with him where you can’t offer comfort. 

Every footstep he makes towards the table has your anxiety climbing higher and higher. He pulls out two chairs, the shrill sound of the legs dragging on the wood loud in the quiet, and gestures for you and Tae to sit.

You gulp.

The silence is heavy, punctuated by listless murmurs and the quieter squeaks of the other chairs as you all sit. No one dares disobey the pack omega right now. Yoongi sits on your side at the head of the table and Tae sits on the other. Jungkook takes the other seat beside Tae between him and Namjoon at his usual spot at the other head of the table. Jimin, Hobi, and Jin file in at the opposite side, an impenetrable wall of anxious scents. 

Jimin looks like he's going to jump out of his skin, too much feeling rocketing through his little body to keep still. Next to him, Hobi folds his arms. Jin starts to retort something and start on the mating marks but you interrupt him. 

“What Tae and I need to tell you is more important to you than any of that- I promise. Would you mind just sitting for a second?” It takes no small amount of bravery for you to keep Jin's eye contact even as he glares.

He’s angry, but it doesn’t make him any less in love or proud of you, any other day he'd be beaming to see you stick up for yourself like this, Jin looks away to sate his mounting guilt. Minnie’s knee jumps up and down rapidly under the table, listlessly stimming. Your mate sends you a tiny look, just a furrowed brow in confusion.

Because Yoongi doesn’t know this secret either, this one will be just yours and Tae’s for only a second longer. You straighten your back- begging yourself to be strong- to do this well for her.

You sit at the table in silence for a few seconds and it’s hard not to just come out and say it, to rip off the metaphorical band-aid. The sentence ‘Tae is transgender’ hovers on the tip of your tongue. 

If you ever had to wonder if your love made a difference, it’s now as Tae sits up straighter. She looks like she’s trying to be brave, a girl growing into her thorns. Your knuckles are white with how hard she’s squeezing them.

Jin isn’t looking at you. Jin isn’t looking at you at all and it makes you angry. The overhead lights buzz in the quiet, and Jin’s ire distracts you from your primary purpose in this- which is to help Tae come out.

Your voice comes quieter than you thought it would when you finally speak. “When I first came here- when I first met you all I was so terrified.”

It’s a confession, but not the one they’d been expecting. Your sudden honesty eases more than one tense packmate as you tip your face, closing your eyes to better remember the fear. You’d been so paralyzed the first few times you’d met them. For the first time since finding out about the mating mark Jin looks at you without anger clouding his eyes.

“Terrified that you’d hate me for everything I did to you- what I took from you without even knowing you- that you’d want to hurt me for it- take your pick. You couldn’t count the things I was scared of, but I wasn’t scared that you wouldn’t like me for who I was. That was easy to count on.”

The room is as quiet as a tomb when you look at them through heavy-lidded eyes. Quiet with your anguish because it has never mattered much to you. maybe its a testament to how much love has changed you because Jin’s lack of concern stings as he remains unreadable.

Your eyes lock with his and you lean over the table. “I know you love us but I don’t think you get it Jin, I think you play all high and mighty but you don’t fucking understand. Do you know that I begged Yoongi to let me die? Rather than let him mark me?”

Jin looks away, Namjoon makes a strained noise in his throat- half a growl half a noise of discomfort. Hobi stays quiet. Tae’s hand goes harder in yours. It’s one thing to know and another to hear you say it.

A cold chill settles over the room and no one feels it as strongly as you and Yoongi. “Would you rather that have happened Jin? Because I would have. I wanted to. Yoongi and the mark is the only reason why I'm still breathing." 

“Pup-” He starts, but you interrupt him again, this time it doesn’t get you a glare. 

“If you want to be angry that i’m alive- get in line. But I don’t want to hear it. I can’t-” Yoongi takes your other hand. Smoothing over your knuckles with both of his, Tae tugs her chair closer to yours so that your hips touch. 

Hoseok sits watching you. There is a furious sort of honesty in your face, people don't lie and joke about these things, but you're so factual with it. laying it out in stark terms because to describe how it was with any emotion is to surrender yourself to the flood of it. Hobi knows better than most how unfair it can be, unable to feel what you want to feel.

The memory runs through him- you in the front seat of Jimin's car, looking breakable and worn. ‘Do I really even want this life if it's going to be this way? When it hardly feels like I’m living at all.’ 

You’ve never said it out loud- you’ve never told them of your weakest moment like this. Was it a moment of true weakness? Or one of pure strength? To keep going when everything told you not to.

Everything but Yoongi. 

Jin can handle a lot of things but hearing you say that isn’t one of them, Jin feels like he’s going to cry for every reason and no reason at all. The feelings in him all cut up and finely minced. All the guilt and wanting and hurt a mixed bowl of ingredients with no soup to be added to. Too much love and not enough anger, not like before. Jin feels it melt away as he watches you and Yoongi.

“I’m sorry.” Jin says, inhaling unevenly like he’s trying not to cry. 

He’s never seen you like this before, and the second the words slipped from your lips the same second he wish he’d never reacted. He wishes he’d never found the key to the upstairs, that he’d never thought to be angry at you for this. 

It’s a reminder not to think with your instincts first if anything, Jin reacted without the proper information and although you don’t look like you’re going to hold it against him- he almost wishes you might. But pain can’t always pay for pain, now when you love someone. You hurting Jin won’t make him feel any less guilty. 

Which is why you ignore his apology. 

You still don't know how to think about it, what you almost did. But whatever death brings you doubt you'd have been quite so happy as you are here;

You wouldn't have had the soft kisses pressed to your forehead every morning, you wouldn't know what it felt like to wake up and be safe. You wouldn't have had felt laughter and happiness that built its way into your chest the same way love builds other works of art. You wouldn't have Tae. 

Every minute spent living in this house has been a treasure.

Yoongi’s heart races and he closes his eyes rather than remember the moment. The ache of watching you almost die never stops throbbing in his chest. Yoongi's not sure if it will ever stop hurting or if he'll ever stop feeling thankful that you hadn't tried after. 

That had been your one suicide attempt, Your only one. Although there had been other moments in the months that followed that had made him nervous that you might try again. When the days had stretched with you neither speaking nor eating.  

Acts of desperation like that have a way of sticking to you. A separate kind of trauma comes from something that you do to yourself.  

For a moment- you want to let go of Tae’s hand, the clamminess too similar to how your palms felt tacky with blood. For a moment you’re back there; the smell of gunpowder (it’s unfortunate that Jimin’s unhappy scent smells so similar) and burning blood on the air, a terrible blackness in your chest begging you to lie your head down and just go.

You lift your face, and the light cuts across it jaggedly. “When you guys moved in it didn't take long to realize I wasn’t the only one afraid, once Tae and I started to hang out in the library room-” 

You’re meandering towards the point, but your pain and Tae’s are dreadfully similar. Both of you hadn’t shared this secret because you were afraid it would incur a lack of love.

“It was just before my rut,” Tae says, finally breaking her silence, encouraging you by ducking close and rubbing her cheek on the top of your head in comfort, a small scent mark, “Wait- Do you think that’s what triggered it?”

You huff a soft breath, and even though it feels out of place it is no less sweet when you bump your head into Tae’s shoulder. “Maybe,” you say, though you guess you’ll never know for sure. What if it was the catalyst? Was your love the thing that finally made her body bend to its instincts?

A truck on your street slams its door and it shocks you all making you flinch. Jimin actually growls, turning to the door like he might go start shouting at it.

Namjoon leans back in his chair, his hand going to the back of Jimin’s neck, rubbing over it mindlessly to calm the other alpha down. His legs crossed, jutting his chin out at you as if to say ‘go on pup, you’re doing fine.’

Your heart pulses frantically in your chest and you hold onto Tae’s hands tighter. “It didn’t take long for it to become a habit and we-”

“Can you just spit it out,” Jimin snaps desperately, fear rocketing through him so violently he can't stay still, rocking back and forth like a ship in a storm. “Please.”

Tae's hand a vice around yours, her breath coming all quick and tiny beside you. 

“I’m trying to say that Tae’s a girl, she’s been a girl for as long as you’ve known her and she just didn’t want to say. We started, exploring her gender a few months ago with makeup and clothes and stuff. She didn’t realize that’s what she was- that’s what she could be if she wanted until- until I helped her in the library.” 

(There is none of that shit about being born in the wrong body because it's not just that. To be a butterfly that only looks like a moth, or a flower and a weed. No metaphor does it justice- how it feels to compromise in such a way that betrays your nature. The near daily humiliation that a soul can feel so keenly).

You let go of Yoongi’s hands and reach across the table to try and take Jimin’s, but he snatches them back just as quickly. Tae's eyes are screwed shut, not willing to watch the pack fall apart because of her, unwilling to wait and see the precise way that her pack falls apart with this knowledge. Because of that- she misses the way the whole table freezes-

And then relaxes.

Now that it’s out you can’t stop yourself from rambling, “-And she does want to be a girl, she is a girl- we hid it from you- not because she didn’t trust you but because she just wanted to be sure- And I guess she’s sure now- She didn’t want to cut her hair but she didn’t want to come out yet- which is why it made her sad- and that why she was crying when you came home and-”

"Pup- breathe," you're nearly hyperventilating, unable to disobey Namjoon’s command as you gasp.

The knot between Jin and Namjoon's shoulders eases and the pack alpha actually cracks a relieved smile. (What- with the way that you and her were so knit together- Namjoon honestly expected levels of unintended pregnancy catastrophic. This by comparison, is much easier to mitigate.)

Yoongi’s looking at Tae with fresh eyes, not surprised or shocked at all- just soft with how you glare at all of them, how your face says ‘say anything transphobic and I’ll end you’ without you speaking a word. Even though you and Jimin are shaking like puppies confronted with a vacuum monster.

Jungkook's mouth makes a little ‘oh’ and so does Hobi’s. Jungkook gives Tae a few of his wide-eyed bunny blinks. The anxiety builds, thrumming until a small sob slips past her lips, you remedy it almost instantly winding your body around hers. 

Jimin feels like there's an avalanche falling over him, his skin freezing as the cold truth washes his body clean of warmth, leaving his tongue numb. Brain fissioning, neurons tearing themselves apart as they rewire themselves to account for new information. The very axis of his world shifted a few degrees to make the summers and springs longer and the winters and falls brief.

Tae speaks, because while your words were pretty- they’re not her own. And hearing you say it makes her own mouth feel less vivid with fear. Her eyes remain fixed on your clasped hands. You haven’t let go of them once, just like you promised. 

“Once I really started living with you it was like I couldn’t stop feeling it. It was so painful to see you for those first few weeks.” your cute mouth tugs into a frown, another reminder. Tae wonders if she’ll ever stop feeling jealous of you.

“You got to be pretty and soft in the way I wanted to be, you got to be loved in the way I’ve always wanted to be loved. Dysphoria is- fuck- it’s fucking terrible, and I couldn’t avoid it no matter how hard I tried.”

You’ve talked about it before; you tuck yourself more firmly around Tae like you can banish it with just your body. You’ll never stop apologizing for that- for how you’d made her feel bad just by being you.

But you have nothing to apologize for, because even with the dysphoria you make it feel so much better, so much easier to bear. Tae shivers remembering that her reflection doesn’t look the same as it did this morning, the short and blunt cut edges of her hair hitting the tops of her ears a needle-like reminder. She’ll probably avoid mirrors for a while, she wonders if Jin would let her put something over the one in the bathroom.  

Yoongi stretches out his hand, tentatively taking Tae’s other one. His hands are so strong, but they're still smaller than Tae's. Tae has the largest hands out of everyone in the pack- the ones that are best for holding. But it's not like your tiny palm in his other.

Oh, what Tae wouldn't give to be tiny like you. Even now, the dysphoria rages like a pink-edged storm. The silver lining is all mauve.

Tae finds the same usual smile on Yoongi's face, gentler maybe. “What does it feel like? The dysphoria, I want to understand it.”

Tae lifts your hand, pressing your knuckles over her heart, “it feels like you’re rotting- right here. At best- that’s what it feels like. Like you're dying and there's nothing that anyone can do, nothing that anyone can fix. Or like you’re bleeding out but only you can see it.”

Hobi speaks for the first time, rubbing a finger against his lower lip, “and at worst?” Tae flinches and doesn't answer his question.

Every little pained breath that comes from Tae’s mouth feels like a dagger cutting through Jimin’s viscera, dissecting him. Here take out the ribs first- they’ve grown all strange and gnarled. Why would a thing that loves have grown claws? 

The table falls silent, no one has any words for it, the realization that someone they held so dear has been hurting for so long. Jin swallows back a lump in his throat when he realizes you’re right; this is a lot more important than the mating marks.

Oh Tae. 

To hide this for so long, to hurt for so long right in front of them- Jin’s rarely ever so frantic, to make things right. “Tell us Tae- tell us how to keep you from feeling that way, fuck- I feel like an asshole for not noticing- Is- do you need- What can we do? Please? I-“ he breaks off, for the first time, lost for words.

Tae bites her lower lip, the words all shaky. “I know that this is a lot to hear. I know that you might not- like it as much. I know that I’m not- that I don’t look like-"

Jungkook is ever the mood maker, perhaps sensing how everyone is about to devolve into tears, “Does that mean you’re gonna call them all Oppa now? Cuz thats so cute I might get jealous. Should we call you Taenoona instead of Taehyung or do you just wanna keep the same name-”

You've never scolded Jungkook before, “Koo-”

But Jungkook’s smile is mischievous and lovely, he leans back, crossing his arms behind his head, stretching and flexing them in his black tee-shirt. “You’re all really bad at keeping secrets you know. Every single one of you."

“What are you talking about?”

Jungkook stretches his arm around you to squeeze Tae’s cheek. It blooms pink beneath his touch. Jungkook’s grin is all bunny teeth, boyish and gorgeous. Being on the receiving end of such a grin makes the dysphoria ebb just a little.

“Tae, who does the laundry in this house?”

“You.” You’re all intimately aware of Junkgook’s near dogmatic ritual. How he dumps all your clothes together and then lifts them one by one to sort them, everything but underwear and socks gets sorted this way, because Jungkook loves the pack's scents, loves to almost nest with them in the basement. you’ve found him asleep in a pile of laundry in the basement before. It's a little gross sometimes, but Jungkook's your little laundry bunny.

Jungkook reaches again, to pinch at your scent gland, and you swat his hand away- annoyed. “And do you know who all your new dresses smell like?”

You look back at him so quick it almost gives you whiplash, “You knew?”

Jungkook leans over, nudging Namjoon’s shoulder. “Sucky secret keepers, the lot of them.” 

The pack alpha turns his eyes on Tae then, smiling at her, "I'm so happy you told us Tae, seriously. Thank you for being honest,” It's Tae's turn to be surprised, blinking owlishly at the pack alpha. blushing at the attention. tae lets go of your hand for the first time when she grabs both of namjoon’s, “I know it must have taken you a lot of bravery to tell us this, but I promise we won't disappoint you."

Hobi swallows thickly, nodding in agreement with Namjoon. “So- about the Taenoona thing- is Tae fine? Or I there something else that you want to be called? A more feminine name?”

Tae’s cheeks are two round pink peaches, blushing as the pack alpha looks at her so plainly, barely able to keep herself from smiling, heart thudding with the knowledge that oh- this actually- this isn’t terrible. This is actually going kind of well.

“i’ve never thought about it really, but I think Tae’s better than taehyung, I like being called Tae.” It might have something to do with the way that your mouth moves around that syllable, all pink and rosy cute, that makes something in Tae’s tummy flutter. It’s hard to feel dysphoric about something that sounds so sweet. “It’s not like the hair thing, ‘Tae’ doesn’t give me dysphoria,”

Jin runs his hands over his face,“Fuck, your hair, I’m so sorry pup-“

“S’not your fault Jinnie. You didn’t know.” Tae bites her plush lips. “I’m sorry for startling everyone when I got home.”

“Do you want to dye it? Is there anything we can do?” Jin turns to you, because you’ve been a woman for longer, and you’ve helped Tae with this up until this point and you don’t have to do this alone again. For the first time in your relationship they're learning how to love from you. “Are wigs an option? Would they help?”

“I don’t know, maybe?”

"There's always extensions," Jungkook comments, definitely not mentioning one of his private clients got them caught in an exercise machine once and thats the only reason why he knows about them.

You turn back to Tae, “Do you want to try?”

Jimin’s brain is narrowed down to the one person that has always mattered the most. Blood and love rush through his ears that block out your banter. The wave builds until it bursts. Jimin tries, tries his hardest to speak and hold it back. but things are happening so quickly- when Jimin is still reeling from your words and Tae's too.

“Maybe just, hair dye? Pink might be nice. I think it might help, with the dysphoria.”

"You'd look so cute with pink."

Jungkook tucks his feet beneath his body, "Wait if you get pink hair I might actually want it too."

Namjoon reaches over, running his hand through Yoongi’s blonde mop “you know you could do it like really easily.”

Yoongi shrugs off Namjoon's comment, all plucky and put upon but loving it, “if it will make Tae happy then you can drag me there right now.”

"It could be like- couples colors!"

Jimin’s voice is so quiet, so aching, but no less pained, fingers digging into the table so hard that his nail-beds ache. Tae would hear Jimin’s voice even if it happening in a downpour, thunder and lightning, nothing is quite as earth shattering as ire from someone you love.  

“Why?”

Tae's a little too excited, however, to properly guess at Jimin's question. She tugs at a lock of her hair, staring not at him, but down at your clasped hands with a soft smile. “I think that maybe it’s like- a color thing. I've never been allowed to like pink you know so maybe it’s-“

“No that’s not- that’s not what I’m asking,” Jimin waves his hand flippantly and your mouth hardens into a line. “I’m not asking why, what I’m asking is why the fuck you neglected to tell me this till now."

Everyone around the table stills, the fun, and joy of all of it extinguished in a moment as Jimin watches Tae, his eye swimming with tears, heartbreaking over her.

"Tae- why didn’t you say anything?”

Tae flinches, and you struggle not to jump down Jimin’s throat for his tone alone. Tae’s voice is pleading, and oh

Oh, she realizes, maybe her fear wasn’t all for nothing. Maybe the hope of the last few moments had only hurt her more. Because the rest of the pack is accepting but Minnie-

Minnie's glaring, and it’s a good thing that Tae knows what he looks like when he's about to cry. Jimin's eyebrows knit together like they're gates to hold back the flood.  

Tae lets go of Namjoon's hand and reaches for Jimin’s but this time- it’s the other alpha that declines his touch. Even when Jimin's overstimulated, he can usually handle touches from Tae, but not right now. Now Jimin's skin burns. 

“Minnie you- you like boys. You only liked boys until her. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid that you wouldn’t-”

Jimin holds up a hand, stopping her, “Don’t you dare say you were afraid that I wouldn't love you Tae. Don’t throw my love for you back at my feet over something as simple as fear." Jin's eyes are brown and guilty when they meet Yoongi's, and the beta holds his glance. 

The first time Jimin uttered the words ‘I think I like boys’ was the first time that Tae's heart broke. But child hurts are often adult wounds and Tae and Jimin are bleeding all over the floor with this. 

"Minnie-" Jin begs, Namjoon reaches over to scruff the alpha but Jimin swats his hands away, moving so quickly you would have thought Namjoon’s touch was poison. 

Jimin’s crying, wet cheeks, and wet eyelashes too. “It’s always been you Tae- Do you think so lowly of me that I wouldn’t love you? Is this a joke to you? Am I a joke to you?” the feeling rockets through him so hard that he stands, chair skitters back, falling upended. Your hand goes cold as Tae leaves you.

Tae tries to hold him, to grab him, but Jimin swats her hands away. Crying too hard to see. “Minnie no- I was just- I just didn’t want to tell you yet. I was just worried-”  

“Don’t you dare lie to me Kim Tae-” the second syllable of that dies in Jimin’s throat. “How could you think that I wouldn’t love you? No matter who you wanted to be or what color you wanted to dye your fucking hair!" Jimin can't get his words out around his sobs, near incoherent. "You’ve been hurting for years and you just- you let me hurt you. When that was the one thing you where never supposed to let me do. Love isn't supposed to hurt!”

(That is perhaps the most bitter lie isn't it? That it is the people who love you who often hurt you the worst.)

“Do you remember what you told me when we were kids Minnie?” Tae's voice shakes. “You were always gay Jimin- You always liked boys, so don’t you dare blame me for choosing you over me! Not when you would have done the same!”

Jimin is crying, hands closing and opening rhythmically by his sides. Jin makes to stand and get between them but you shoot him a look. This isn’t a fight that any of you can have for Jimin and Tae. No matter how bad you want to get in-between them.

“Would you have ever told me? Would you have ever told us? If it wasn’t for her?” Jimin’s finger jabbing in your direction makes you flinch and Yoongi's jaw ticks.  

Tae is lost for words. Silent and standing there, unwilling to answer. 

“I see, once you saw me love her you- you-“ Jimin sounds almost sick at the words. That someone he loves has been hurting because of him. All this time, Years and years of pain that are all his fault.

“If you think I wouldn’t love you th-then-“ Jimin’s hands are shaking so violently, and you know a breakdown when you see one. he runs his hands through his hair and yanks. "I love you- you know I love you!” he cries “none of this would change that- no matter what! That's what we agreed on! That we’d love each other Tae- fuck- Tae."

Tae and Jimin have always been cradle to grave. They have always been soulmates. Jimin thought that counted for something. But this isn’t just anything. Tae let herself hurt for the sake of Jimin’s worldview and that is something that Jimin cannot forgive- or at least can’t forgive easily. Tae was always supposed to be both of their priorities. That was their agreement.

Tae’s voice breaks, “You love me yeah? Well you haven’t said it in weeks Minnie.” It’s the wrong thing to say. No allegation would make Jimin angrier than the idea that he doesn’t love Tae to the fullest extent that he’s capable of. 

He's lost for words mouth opening and closing like a beached fish. When they were younger the words used to fall from Jimin's lips as often as rain, but now that they've been together for so long they say them less frequently. The same is true with Jin and Namjoon. Years in love can make you sloppy but Jimin can’t find the words anything other than wounding. 

Jimin’s teeth grind against each other, "People don't just say I love you.”

"They say 'bring your jacket it's cold out’ and 'I made you lunch' before you even say you're hungry, or they know your favorite coffee cup without asking and never take it even though they made the coffee first.” Tae does that for you- you realize. You didn’t think that Jimin had been keeping track.

“People don't just say I love you or just love you as a singular act, they don't skip your favorite song even if they hate it, and they act crazy when you get sick” Jungkook and Hoseok flush. “Or they pretend not to notice when you've got a bit of broccoli stuck in your teeth.” Namjoon huffs. Jimin might not understand this yet, but he does understand love.

“They learn what kind of jokes are your favorite and get better at telling them on purpose- people love you on purpose.” The upstairs room aches with Yoongi's many hours, how many moments of his life has he spent on it? He couldn't say those moments were poorly spent, any moment spent in love is worth it.

“They learn to make a big deal out of the things that are big for you and not to bother when the annoyance is slight because every annoyance should be slight when it comes to someone you love." Jin's arms wrap around his waist tighter.

(People don't just say I love you- they promise things like I will give you smile lines and laugh lines if it kills me, I will carve wrinkles into your face with the force of my love, and hand you a pen when you want to write you name on my heart.)

"They don't just say I love you, they show it. And I’ve shown you it with everything I’ve ever done, every breath I’ve ever taken- so please- please don’t say I didn’t love you enough for you to come to me with this, be honest with me. Because I did. You know I did."

You and Jin share a long angsty look across the table. Your and Yoongi’s hands remain clasped and the omega crosses his arms. Defiant with it- although you never expected him to love you without it. 

There is more to be settled here.

“I love you so much I can't stand it. Maybe if I loved you less I’d be able to think more rationally about this, but Tae- I can't- I can't breathe around how much love I have for you. And maybe that’s why this hurts so fucking much, that I’m so in pain by loving you and yet, you don't believe me. You never did otherwise you would have just said something-"

But instead of agreeing Tae shakes her head, lips screwing into something like a snarl. Alpha aggression is a volatile thing and Namjoon almost gets up to scruff them even though it would be inappropriate. He can’t bear to see them hurt each other like this.

Her short bangs barely budge “knowing someone loves you isn't just trusting them not to hurt you Minnie. I respect what we had, and whatever you want from me now I'll accept- even if it's nothing. I’ve been hurting over this for years That’s why I didn't tell you- I didn't tell you because I know you love me. Not despite it. I’m sorry but I couldn't risk losing you."

“Bullshit-“ Jimin sobs, a wild and broken thing that just about wrenches his heart clean out of his chest. Tae’s love has always made Jimin human and now he’s nothing but something wriggling and miserable. Slimy in his sadness, unwanted at its core.

“Bullshit- Tae- I’ve never- I couldn’t-”

One second the emotion is rocketing through him bright as a comet and the next, Jimin goes so still it's frightening. Like a supernova, one moment all the mass in the universe spread out and the next it has narrowed down to a single point of anger and pain.

If Jimin had a heart, he’d remove it and leave it at Tae’s feet. There is no use for Jimin’s love if Tae doesn’t want it and is committed to miss-understanding it. there is no Jimin without tae. 

Tae pretends it doesn’t hurt when Jimin walks away. 

He passes by her without even a brush of her hand or a goodbye kiss. Tae pretends her heart doesn’t break as she watches him grab his coat and walk out the front door, grabbing his keys too. She pretends it doesn��t hurt that he doesn’t look back, that she’s left in the kitchen with the warm yellow lights cutting wounds across her face.

6 other people in the room, and the only one that she wants to comfort her right now- gone.

He leaves her standing there by the center island, alone like a ship in a dark sea, the last light winking out. It's not worth it, It's not worth being a woman if it means I don't get to love you, I'll take it back, I'll take it back if it means you'll still love me. 

The front door slams shut.

~-~

(Next chapter Coming Next Saturday September 24th at 5pm EST)

Please like, Comment, and Reblog! If you don’t interact with the chapter I have no way of knowing you read it or enjoyed it!

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

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#bts omegaverse au #bts a/b/o #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts gang au #bts mafia au #bts polyamory au #bts au #bts fluff #bts hurt/comfort #bts werewolf au #bts angst bts omegaverse fic #bts hybrid fic #min yoongi fic #kim namjoon fic #kim seokjin fic #kim taehyung fic #park jimin fic #jeon jungkook fic #jjk #pjm #myg #knj #kth #ksj #jhs #jung hoseok fic #min yoongi x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader

[star-my]

BTS Fic Recs ☆ Ao3

These are all available on ao3 as of April 2024 (I had more but some fics/accounts weren't available anymore). Some require an account to view them. Some are likely crossposted on tumblr as well.

~TUMBLR RECS COMING~

Almost all are complete works, those with "+" after WC are incomplete.

Most of these are Mature or Explicit (usually because of smut) ~ mdni ~ italicized titles rated G or T ~ Please read responsibly

OT7/Multi

☆ Scarlet Handprints by Risingstorm15 | Mafia AU, Vampire AU, Fantasy AU, Hybrid AU | Platonic OT7 | 17k

☆ I'm Not a Vampire (I Promise) by BBQKitten | Supernatural AU, Roommates AU | Platonic OT7 | 4k

☆ Make it Right by Eden (kurokimio) | Mafia AU | 175k

☆ Flux series by dailydoseofdia | Coworkers AU, Office AU | MYG + JJK | 65k+

☆ Break the Ice by minlouvre | Hockey AU | PJM + JJK | 46k

☆ Blood, Sweat, & Tears by dearprudencewithlove | Vampire AU | 750k

☆ Witchcraft series by fiar22 | E2L F2L Witch AU, School AU, Supernatural AU | MYG + PJM | 112k+

☆ The Snowball Effect series (collab) | 155k

Kim Seokjin

☆ {Unavailable}

Kim Namjoon

☆ Guilty by xJoonChildx | Mafia AU, PA AU | 17k

Min Yoongi

☆ Vows: aka 10 ways to win your husband's heart by hamsterclaw | Chaebol AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 60k

☆ From the Ashes by bangtanlove86 | Chaebol AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 48k

☆ Arranged Destiny by NunaWriter | Arranged Marriage AU | 21k

☆ Dating Advice by taleasnewastime | F2L Fake Dating AU | 54k

☆ The Arrangemint by Cassakane | Fake Dating AU, Neighbours AU | 9k

☆ and they were roommates (omg they were roommates) by JupiterJoon | Roommate AU | 10k

☆ Look down on me like that by heretobebtstrash | E2L Coworker AU, Office AU | 100k+

☆ The Email by itsallabouthedetails | Coworker AU, Office AU | 25k

☆ A Smartass and an Acutely Vulnerable Scenario by Slatternfemina | Uni AU, Coworker AU | 30k

☆ First Love, Last Love by ryenwrites | High School AU, Uni AU | 33k

☆ Melophile by thepencilnerd | R2L Uni AU | 43k

☆ Flightless Bird, American Mouth by orphan_account | Brother's Best Friend AU, Uni AU | 10k

☆ Matilda by lotuseaters | Brother's Best Friend AU | 140k

☆ If it's Love by tritchie2319 | Brother's Best Friend AU, Rapper AU | 19k

☆ Volume series by mintjoonlep | S2F2L Rapper AU | 87k+

☆ Countermelody by bonvoyage_noona | S2F2L Rapper AU | 100k

☆ Musk by Guessimaclotpole | S2L | 19k

☆ Any of ty_wl_95's one-shots, honestly

☆ His Angel by Nyleze | Mafia AU, PA AU | 72k

☆ Heartless by Ravendipity | Mafia AU | 175k

☆ Safety Pin by marchdahlia | Mafia AU | 38k

☆ Talking Bodies by bangtaninink | Pornstar AU | Minor Multi | 42k

☆ You Think You're So Tough by EvaMariee | S2L Stripper AU | 21k

☆ No Face by seokology | (Crossroads) Demon AU | 11k

☆ Ice Cold by mintedmango | E2L Supernatural AU, Krampus AU | 14k

☆ What is Written by Lu_luebells | Supernatural AU, Grim Reaper AU | 26k

☆ helLO pARADISE, mY NAMe IS by seokology | Greek Myth AU, Hades AU | 10k

☆ Owner Training by Ungnyeo | Hybrid AU, Roommates AU? | 27k

☆ The Velvet Devil by mxlia | S2L Vampire AU, Bar AU | 10k

☆ His First Love by Justimajin | Vampire AU, Reincarnation AU | 40k

☆ Please don't leave me by minhoneykisses | Established Relationship AU, Canon Idol-verse | 12k

☆ Blood, Sweat & Texts by JHopeissoOMG | Canon Idol-verse | 13k

☆ Willing Captive by JJ_daydreaming | Canon Idol-verse | 7k

☆ Rise of the Nation's King by Justimajin | Daechwita AU | 19k

Jung Hoseok

☆ Dalliance by sugalights | Established Relationship AU | 10k

☆ I Can't Betray You by Jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue | Mafia AU | 17k

☆ upbeat by fizzydrink698 | BFF2L Rapper AU, Uni AU | 12k

☆ an abundance of scrunchies by bluesxde | E2F2L Single Dad AU | 24k

Park Jimin

☆ Failure to Communicate by stutterfly + taehyungforreal | Uni AU | 21k

☆ Raise the Bar by DayStar | Vampire AU, Bar AU, Coworkers AU | 10k

☆ Married to a Playboy by Armygirl0616 | Arranged Marriage AU | 36k

☆ Never Falling by dailydoseofdia | Singer AU, PA AU | 20k

Kim Taehyung

☆ Not that good by taleasnewastime | Uni AU | 20k

☆ The Mob Boss Wants Forever! by ArielleWrites | Mafia AU | 45k

Jeon Jungkook

☆ Chasing Butterflies by ddaenggtan | Uni AU, Nerd AU | 13k

☆ Perverted Bunny Mask by Btsinned | E2L Mafia AU | 88k

☆ Devil in a New Suit by makotako | S2F2L | 23k

☆ Knights of the Night by StoryRodeo_333 | Uni AU, Vampire AU | 55k

☆ Kingdom Come by mintedmango | Dragon AU | 28k

☆ Make You Mine by ColorMePurplex2 | Omegaverse AU | 11k

☆ Chasing Shadows by ColorMePurplex2 | Sherlock AU | 22k

☆ Liability by AlexLorchan | F2L | 21k

☆ Prisoners of the Moon by wishfulwrites | Werewolf AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 42k

#star speaks #bts fic rec #group: bts #member: ot7 #type: fic #can you tell who my biases are by the sheer number of recs compared to the others :p #(I promise I love Jin too I just don't have any ao3 recs for him currently) #bts fic recs

[aeonianarchives]

Hey do You have any big projects / ideas / Au's you are flushing out going on, you seem really interesting given the stuff you write and come up with I want to study your brain in a lab.

TBW: To Be Written | My Bigger Fanfic Plans of 2023

Thank you Anon for thinking I am interesting but I don't know if I am comfortable with letting you put my brain under a microscope, I hope 2023 is the year I start writing bigger fics get a proper big multichapter fic going and so on, I have had quite a few new years resolutions; getting into more writing in more styles and tropes to broaden my writing palette is one of them so here is a sneak peak of some of my plans which I might not get around to some of them but want to plans for 2023 so in no particular order:

I have the Eagle shapeshifting and sky city AU which I am planning to do a fic around at some point fully based around some of my Oc's I have such as Aerdis and another Oc I have which I am going to Introduce in the AU fic.

I am currently writing my first big multichapter fic for my 1960s Space age AU set around Lindir which is Lindir x Glorfindel which I have started writing by the way 1.1K into it and planning to cross post on here and AO3. (Spoiler Alert (Not really) I make Gil-Galad own a ranch and is Lindir's father in it)

I have an Greek Mythos esque AU planned for my OC ship Winged Fire where my OC Aerdis is Apollo and My Oc Thalion is Icarus or based on the two characters.

I have a Norse Mythos based AU which is based around some of my favorite Norse Myths It would be a completion of short stories in a Norse esque setting but with OC's and Tolkien characters insted of Norse gods.

I have a Quilda in Wonderland fic in the planning based around my friends @eunoiaastralwings Oc Quildalótien and our oc's but it's really an if and a maybe to actually write and it's a one or the other between a Rapunzel Quilda fic which is also in the same stage of planning.

I Have also had recent brainrot where Lindir is Gil-Galad's kid and Gil is Fingon's kid and I may write a fic around it I'm not sure but it will be in my 1960s AU.

I am planning a Star Trek AU because my 1960s AU contains BTS of Star Trek TOS filming in it with Arwen.

Also some Valinor Oc crack is in the planning mostly evolving around short fics or incorrect quotes.

SIREN READER X LINDIR FIC i may of forgotten about maybe coming back.

A Rewrite of In my arms tonight but make it an OC x OC of you guessed it Quilda and Varya.

I also have a D&D AU which I probably won't write but I will probably write into my 1960s AU somehow but I am sorta planning to write modern d&d au at some point probably not this year though.

Time travel Lindir back to Gondolin Fic I have put off for to long

Top 3 priorities:

Requests: As always if a request comes through it is going to be my priority last year in November my request November failed as I grew busy so I ignored some requests till a month later three months since I started request gathering for it in October but I was doing an event so I pushed them off to the side.

Space Age AU: This will be my first proper multichapter fic, I really like my ideas for this fic and really like the AU so I wanna put effort into it for making it good

Eagle AU: I love my Eagle AU and yes it will be full of OC's but I think it will be interesting especially what I have planned out for it.

I haven't decided on a top five so if you want me to add two of my other plans into my top 5 priorities do let me know.

#au #aus #2023 plans #fanfic wips #sneak peak #anon ask #anon #random #rambles #wip sneak peek #aeonian talks

[ratatoongi]

hell on earth- pjm- eleven

Series summary

⇉ You were the goddess of vegetation or harvest what ever you prefer. You hated your mother more than anything, she always left a bad taste in your mouth Evil was an understatement when it came to her. Possessive over protective narcissist.

⇉You wanted to rebel against your mother. Just one thing to make her let you go once an for all. What ever that may be you were gonna do it even if it changed your perception of the little world you loved and lived in your whole life.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

↦fic type: social media au

⇉main parings: hades jimin x persephone reader

↦side parings: sope, v-lo (OC)

↦genre: greek mythology, romance, drama

⇥warnings: manipulation, potty mouths,mature themes, most likely will take me a billion years to post, cheating

⇥status: ongoing

@generousrunawaylove @black-rose-29

@beeeb05 @chimmijams

#bts #bangtan #bts fic #bts scenarios #bts smau #smau bts #bts min yoongi #smau #jimim smau #bts jimim #park jimin x you #park jimim #park jimin x y/n #park jimin x reader #greek myth au #greek gods #hades and persephone #hades x persephone #hades jimim #jimin x female reader #bts x y/n #sope #hobi x yoongi #jimin social media au #jimin x army #namjoon x reader #bts au #au #greek mythology #hades jimin x reader

[ripspaghet]

POISONED TONGUE | MOODBOARD

→ pairing: Jungkook x reader

→ genre/warnings: geek gods, greek mythology, eventual smut, time travel, archeology, tombraider!reader, demigod!jungkook, angst, enemies to lovers, weaponry, war, violence, ancient Greece, sexism

Prologue summary; "Destined he is to her and she to him - though, too soon to leave. By her side, she will predict what's meant to be, so it will never earnestly be. By his side, he will know what is to come of everything he can see. Beyond three moons one will become two."

"____?! Are you alright?! Shit, tell me you're not dead!"

"I'm fine!" You call back up, your voice echoing around the circular room, "Very much alive!"

With only a small stream of light shining in from above, you can't see much - but it doesn't take a genius to deduct that you've fallen into a tomb, the air murky and somewhat hard to breathe, large carvings of art lining the walls, and a sarcophagus as the centerpiece.

"I'm coming down!"

You glance up to see Hoseok craning himself further down, "Careful! The rock isn't very stable!"

He scoffs, "No shit, Sherlock. You'd still be up here if that wasn't the case."

You let your gaze fall back down, taking a few steps forward to begin studying the walls. The carvings are extravagantly detailed, depicting a woman with six wings. Some type of celestial or heavenly being of high rank, no doubt. Below the art is a word you don't particularly recognize the meaning of, although the letters seem familiar enough.

'σεραφείμ'

"What?" Your fingers trace along with the word, confused. Your eyes flutter down to a paragraph just below it, "This seems to be influenced by subsequent theology, literature, and art."

"The hell are you on about down there?"

You huff, glancing over your shoulder where Hoseok has yet to reach the tomb's floor, "Art of this influence is frequently seen in works depicting angels, heaven, and apotheosis."

"Oh, right, apotheosis, of course." Hoseok's sarcastic statement is strained as he struggles to lower himself.

You wipe cobwebs from the face of the angel to study its carvings with more detail, "Apotheosis is the glorification of a subject to a divine level. To dumb it down even further for you, its when a human is treated like a god. In theology, apotheosis refers that an individual has been raised to godlike stature." Your fingers trace the wings, "This looks well beyond the end of antiquity."

"Well, perhaps," The water splashes behind you, "that intuition of yours was wrong for once."

"No, this is the place." You pause moving onto the next inscription, speaking under your breath as you do, "It has to be."

"Huh?" Hoseok furrows his brow, sloshing through the water, "Damn it, my socks are getting wet. I told you we should've worn the rubber boots."

"They would've been constricting." You speak offhandedly, not paying your friend much mind as he stumbles about - enamored by the ancient language before you. "Wow," You breathe out breathlessly, "Listen to this, it's telling the story of this celestial being. 'Destined he is to her and she to him - though, too soon to leave.'"

"Lovely, a romance novel. Just what I was hoping to find in a murky pit of death."

You move over to the next image of fire engulfing the beings six wings, "'By her side, she will predict what's meant to be, so it will never earnestly be.'"

"What's this one say? It's got a buff dude on it." Hoseok chuckles as he reaches up to poke at the carved muscles, like an overgrown child.

You turn to him, "It, uh," You hum at the picture before dropping your gaze to the inscription, "'By his side, he will know what is to come of everything he can see.'"

"Oh god, it's rhyming." He steps back in realization, "Tell me it isn't a curse, curses always rhyme."

You shake your head, eyes still glued to the 'buff dude' as Hoseok had called him, "No, it must be a coincidence that the English translation rhymes."

"Alright, then read this one." Pointing to the carving that's next in line, he eyes it suspiciously. On it are three full moons set in the center of the stars. Rather beautiful, something about it almost enchanting.

Your fingers trace across the letters as you translate, "'Beyond three moons one will become two.'"

"Oh, wow, who would've thought? Another rhyme!"

"Your sarcasm is really starting to piss me-"

The floor below you begins to quake violently, the ceiling groaning, as small particles of debris begin to fall from above.

"Shit! ____, I told you it was a curse!"

You grit your teeth in fear and frustration, "Then why ask me to read the last inscription?!"

"You-"

You grab a hold of his bag's strap, yanking him back towards the opening in the tomb's ceiling, "Nevermind! Just shut up and move before we're buried alive!"

Coming sometime in 2021...

#jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jeon jungkook #jungkook #greek myth au #bts au #bts greek gods #ancient greece #jungkook angst #eventual smut #time travel au #tombraider!reader #demigod!jungkook #sparta #athens #spartan #Taehyung #yoongi #namjoon #hoseok

[haevenlyy]

taekook greek au

Jungkook as Hércules

Taehyung as Megara

Heyy I’m back!~ I’ll write a little intro for this moodboard bc I really missed my boys :( I’ll link it when I post it! 🌧💜

#aesthetic #moodboard #bts #taekook #kim taehyung #taehyung #v #bts v #bts vkook #bts taekook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook #greek myth aesthetic #bts au fanfic #bts au #bts aus #blue #gold #taetae #kim taetae

[weareonereacts]

Revamping Children of the Gods

Who would be interested in reading a Greek Myth AU?? Cause... if not... I’m literally just writing this for Hannah... which I don’t mind doing it because this story is fun.

~ Heather

#bts #exo #greek myth au #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #suho #junmyeon #kim junmyeon #exo suho #jimin #park jimin #bts jimin #hoseok #jung hoseok #j-hope #hobi #bts j-hope #jungkook x reader #fluff #angst #and all the stuff in between

[littlebangtanwriter]

A revamp of a story

I'm currently re-writing a story..... I wrote this one a while ago and posted it on Tumblr under a different name. Now I'm re-writing it to make it a 1000 times better... I'm just curious as to how many people would be interested in it. (Although I'm pretty sure this blog is dead lol.)

#bts #exo #Greek myth au #Jungkook #jeon jungkook #suho #kim junmyeon #lay #yixing #jimin #park jimin #hoseok #jung hoseok #j-hope #hobi

[hxseok-honee]

charmolipi teaser | son of melinoë

“Uh, right - well. As usual, it was wonderful talking to you, Yoongi, but I should probably see what my dad wants…” Jimin starts moving toward the edge of the small forest as a way of signaling to Yoongi that he’s leaving, but the Demigod of Nightmares seems to have lost interest in him completely. He’s got his gaze trained on the other side of the lake, so focused that even Jimin feels intrigued. Turning back, it takes a moment of squinting into the heavy fog, but eventually Jimin makes out the silhouette of a person rising from the lake, moving sluggishly. 

“A lost soul?” Jimin turns back to ask Yoongi if it’s a regular occurrence, but he finds himself face to face with something that is most certainly not Yoongi. A cloud of darkness is swirling menacingly where the older boy once stood, and it’s quiet enough that Jimin can make out the muted sounds of howling -- the wails of lost souls, their shadows stitched into Yoongi’s cloak for all of eternity. It’s surreal, the way the air stills around them, as if waiting for Yoongi’s next move. 

Eventually, the cloud stops swirling, coming to a standstill so eerie that it feels deadly. It’s only broken by the hand that’s breaking through the darkness, reaching for the soul as if intending to claim it. Jimin recognizes it as Yoongi’s pale hand, and he knows what’s coming.

“Oh, wait, Yoong-” The cloud starts to twist around Yoongi’s hand, bending to his every will, only waiting for a twitch of his fingers to act. It comes, and suddenly the darkness is spilling out over his hand and across the lake, the cloud tumbling over itself in a race to reach its destination. Yoongi remains on the shore with a small smile, waiting for his new toy. Jimin watches as the darkness overtakes the soul, watches as the cloud swallows it whole, before he’s motivated to look away, knowing now just where those cries of sorrow come from. 

“A lost soul no more - I found it.” Jimin chances a look at Yoongi and winces immediately. Yoongi’s expression of dark satisfaction, almost innocent, reminds Jimin of what kind of world he was born into -- what kind of world they were both born into.

#bts au #greek myth au #minjoon #park jimin #kim namjoon

[mirahuyooo]

Stranded (III) | jhs

— But, darling, if you hadn’t fallen, you wouldn’t have met him—the one who’ll render you mad and drunk with his love so much that you’ll never want to find sanity again.

word count: 17,476 (PART III) contents: FluFF, skinny dipping (no spicy times tho lmao), deep talks, uncovering trauma, daddy issues, ANGSTY ANGST, y/n discovers the truth behind her abandonment, Theseus, getting drunk, violence (not really graphic), not necessarily accurate (i mixed up a lot of versions and made up some shit), a bit historical?? idk anymore, long explanation & historical refs at to be followed if you're interested, Greek Mythology AU pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader Inspired by Dionysus and Ariadne

[masterlist] | check out [Elysian Tales] & [BTS as Greek Myth Icons]!

A/N: LAST PART, PEEPS!!! LET'S GOOO!! i hope y'all buLLETPROOF for this about to HURT right in the middle 😭😭😭 I'm so glad to have finally put this piece out here T-T it's truly a fav 💖 i hope y'all enjoy this!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿 ◁ | END.

It was fortunate that winters don’t last long in Greece, because soon enough, the coldness thaws and spring comes to Naxos. Each day is still wound with the shenaniganry that is Hoseok, and today, he brings you back to the pool where you first met the nymphs.

The two of you had spent the day helping the nymphs with their home and making sure the trees they lived in wouldn't be disturbed by travelers or beasts alike. You, too, would have to prepare your home for the seasonal change soon, perhaps as one of Hoseok's followers to help you with renovations, so you wouldn't have to inconvenience Silenus next winter.

Before settling for the day, Hoseok invited you to come along with him to the pool to end the day relaxed, he says.

“What in the world are you doing?!"

You gasp as you see him unravel his clothes, spinning yourself away from him in an instant. Hoseok only laughs upon your averted gaze, mischief in every note of it.

His shamelessness, you find, has known no bounds the more you let yourself be dragged to his tomfoolery. He has changed, indeed. "I say we have a little dip, hm?" he muses, his words later on followed by a splash of water.

Willing yourself to not look past what the water allows you, you steal a glance and see him resurface with a grin inviting you to join him. His dark curls were swiped back by his hands, which soon led your eyes to his naked chest and carved collarbones. The setting sun dims the light within the cave, leaving the rest of him to your unhelpful imagination.

Gods help you. "I'm not bathing with you!" you squeal, scandalized by the mere thought of it (but admittedly tempted).

The expression on his face tells you just how much Hoseok was enjoying toying with you. "You dare defy the request of a god, princess?" he teasingly lilts, leisurely swimming back so as to not tear his eyes away from you.

"Don’t say it like that," you grumble, eyes still bouncing off everywhere else in the cavern but him for too long. He may be your friend, but if anyone else might hear of thi—

"I kid, (Y/N)," Hoseok assures upon noticing your furrowed brows and pout. The moment you regain your thoughts and look at him, he smiles. "But," he then muses, "some company is nice for a little swim, do you think not?"

Chewing at your lip, you mull over his words. It has been a hot time indeed, attested by the nymphs' whines and lament you've been hearing for the past few days. Has something happened to Yoongi?

You haven't been faring well with the heat either—even now—especially when the activities of the day had left you sore and sweaty. Really, you haven't much else to kill your time with either.

"I'll withhold from any funny business, I swear," Hoseok further invitingly promises, chuckling as he swims in little laps before you. "You don't have to strip either," he then muses, but then thinks to himself for a moment. "Though you would lack a spare for change."

Perhaps it was because you were bored, or because you wanted the upper hand over him for once, or perhaps it was something else entirely, but you found yourself making a rather bold move.

"Never the matter, I can—"

"Turn around…"

Hoseok's eyebrows rose sky high at your words, a fiery blush spreading across his cheeks—one that (fortunately for him) you were too embarrassed to notice. Your words came out rather quiet and weak, but it was enough for him to freeze. “I beg your pardon?” he gawked, the most shocked you've ever seen him—and you almost feel victorious. Almost.

Awkwardly, you stood there, hand reaching where your dress was held together by a pin and idly playing with it as you found the courage to speak aloud once more. "I said turn around,” you tell him, staring firmly at him into doing your bidding.

Hoseok does as you ask, still taken aback.

After leaving your dress and undergarments in a pile by a large rock, you quickly part your hair over your shoulders and drape them over your decolletage. "Don't you dare look!" you warn once more, watching him closely. 

His smugness seems to have caught up with him, seeing as he was quick to go back to his teasing after hearing you say those words. "Yes, dear," he playfully sings, "come on in."

Practically envisioning the wolfish grin on his face, you resist chucking a pebble at him. You focus on the present moment, and, finally, set yourself ankle deep into the pool, hands covering your delicate parts. The water ripples at your arrival, and as you go deeper, your hair begins to float around you until you gather them back to cover your upper half.

The moment the water reaches your chin, you realize it's deeper than you initially thought, even back when you were with the nymphs. Perhaps, it's even deeper along where Hoseok is, likely leading further down and somewhere into the sea. And so, heart thrumming against your chest, you idly stay where you were, near the edge.

Hoseok's head twitches to turn around but he catches himself. "Comfortable?" He asks first, turning his head just a little—only to catch a glimpse of you holding onto one of the edges and dipping your head into the seawater to fully submerge yourself, eyes closed shut and lungs holding in as much air as you could.

Immediately, he whips his head away upon noticing you were about to resurface. "Hm?" you ask him in the midst of soothing your hair away from your face, not catching what he said.

"Are you comfortable?" he asks again, swimming a little closer with his back still towards you. "I was about to say you needn't strip but…"

It's dark enough, you decide, for him to not see what he shouldn't, so you manage a little smile. "I'll be fine," you tell him, smiling a little once he turns around. Too late to cower back now anyways.

There were still traces of the wine god's flustered shock, but he does well to steer the conversation away from awkward tension. "Feels nice, does it not?" he says as the two of you languidly circle in the shallow area of the pool. (Hoseok, you notice, doesn't go back to the deeper end. Has he taken note of your inability to swim?)

The thought brings butterflies to your stomach, but you refuse to let it distract you any further. You agreeably hum, looking up to see the sky over the overhead fissure and see the night sky coming in with its twinkling stars. A soft smile makes it to your face as you savor the serenity of the moment, sore muscles easing as you turn back to the wine god, whose eyes seem so fixated on you.

"It is relaxing, actually," you finally admit aloud, sighing blissfully as you watch the water ripple around you. "Though it'd be better to be much more prepared next time."

The wine god breathlessly chuckles, nodding along as the notion of a next time excites him. "No more surprises next time, I swear," he says, his hands raised in mock surrender, though you roll your eyes (affectionately) and know well that won't stop his future nonsense next time.

What you also know is that, at the moment, Hoseok is somber, stealing thoughtful glances your way—the two of you sharing an innocent moment in spite of the bold circumstances. In truth, you had expected a water fight by now. "What is it?" you softly ask, lingering just a little closer as your eyes fully meet.

There's a look of profound pride and joy in his eyes as he gazes down at you. "You've changed, princess," he tells you, voice soft yet it still strikes you hard enough to take your breath away.

"In a good way, I hope?" you manage to jest, dipping yourself a little lower into the seawater as if it'd do well to hide your flustered face—or do anything with the funny feeling in your belly. By now, you're side by side, shoulders and arms mere centimeters apart.

The wine god nods, turning to face you with a wistful smile. "You look happier," he gently notes, tucking a hair behind your ear as he does. "Very much a good way."

While the blush on your cheeks continue to spread like wildfire at his touch, his words plunge you into the memories of your murky past—of being that princess chained to a cruel life—and as you drown in it, you're reminded of what Hoseok actually said—of your change, your happiness that he very much was mostly the architect of. The wine god has broken a hole into the depths that drown you—given you a way out to take if you so please while he waits for you to truly leave it all behind.

You are happier—much lighter, much freer—and that brings a smile to your face. "I suppose I am," you muse, practically glowing in the wine god's eyes, "and I have you and the others to thank for it."

The warmth in Hoseok’s chest is undeniable of his utter reverence for you. "Wouldn't have done it without your trust in my shenanigans, princess," he cheekily claims in spite of his giddy heart. For his sake, he swims back and bit away from you, the two of you beginning to idly swim around until…

SPLASH!

The wine god’s boisterous laughter resonates throughout the cave as you gasp at his betrayal.  "Hoseok!" you shriek, retaliating with your own beat of the water towards his direction. With the sweet, innocent moment now gone, the two of you began chasing one another around the pool.

You knew that water fight was bound to come soon.

Eventually, the swim must come to an end before you both end up like raisins, and Hoseok summons Agrios, the large cat seemingly knowing well to bring some towels for the both of you to dry yourselves with. You offer the beast lots of pats and rubs as drape the linen over your shoulders. "Thank you very much," you coo, as you sit by the little fire pit Hoseok conjures.

"I was the one who summoned him," the wine god whines, finally taking a seat next to you two. "How come I don't receive any thanks or pats?"

You laugh, taking a spare linen and reaching forth to drape it over his wet tresses. "Oh, what great magnificence, my liege," you dramatically sung your praises, "such fortune has been blessed upon this humble servant!"

Hoseok half-heartedly rolls his eyes, reaching forth to mush your cheeks together. "Only you would dare to treat me like this," he playfully grumbles as you pry his hands off.

"I thought you said this was a very good change," you grin, as you raise a brow up at him. "Would you like me to go back then?"

Fondly, Hoseok's shoulder nudges yours. "Of course not," he scoffs, resting his head on your shoulder with his damp hair tickling your skin. "You know," he then says after a moment passes, "the day I saw you, I was debating on heading here instead, but Agrios was so insistent on the beach."

You find yourself smiling even more, hands brushing through the leopard's mane as he settles to your other side. "Thank Agrios for that then," you softly muse, "and the Fates for bringing us all together."

The greater part of you knows well you would've never thought the loom of fate would weave your life this way. Behind your struggles on the new path you tread, there is solace and tender appreciation for the banter, the surprises, and the menace.

You rest your head atop his as you gaze into the fire, watching the embers that crackle into the darkness of the night. "My life now is a far cry from what I used to live," you all but ponder, eyes beginning to sting as tears pool in them.

Beside you, Hoseok gazes tenderly, his brows starting to furrow and his lips starting to frown. You haven't talked much of your old life, and he knew just the gist of it—terrible father, terrible half-brother, and terrible lover. “Why have you…” he began, mulling over his words, “Why have you not tried to run away before? If it was so suffocating for you, why did you stay in that place?”

Only then does Hoseok realize his question had been insensitive.

"It's not that easy," you say, a sharp edge to your voice that confirms his belated regrets. Whatever responsibilities you were forced to carry had obviously been heavy if it had left you this scarred.

Hoseok gives a gentle squeeze to your hand, apologetically admitting his fault. "I spoke out of line."

For a moment then, you did nothing but stare ahead with a far away look in your eyes. They carry stories he could only hope you tell him yourself. “I…” you began to say, “I felt responsible, you could say. Though I was young when my mother was cursed to do what she had done—”

“Fucking a bull?” Hoseok surmised.

You recoil at his vulgar tongue. “Yes, well…" you clear your throat, "that.”

Eyes shot wide, the wine god immediately reading his words. “Sorry,” he coughed, looking down and wiggling his toes to idle in silence, "I will say a word no longer."

Truly, when he heard of the accursed rumors while he was in Crete, he didn't think the curse was that forward. It wasn't that he found the events disgusting—he had seen and heard worse—just that he came to think of the gods' temperament. The sinner was obviously your father, and yet Poseidon had seen it fit for everyone else in your family and kingdom to also be roped into the consequences of his greed.

“I was the eldest daughter,” Hoseok hears you go on. “I felt responsible to be an exemplary figure for my sisters and for my people. I thought that if I followed what my father says, it would’ve been the best for everyone. My father is a terrifying man, after all.”

Next to him, you scoff at your naïveté. “I couldn’t have been more wrong,” you humorlessly chuckle, your gaze still so haunted and distant. “I still have nightmares of the people sent down there.”

You shiver, and though Hoseok knew it wasn't just from the night's chill breeze, he takes a drier towel and drapes the fabric around your shoulders, as you, whose mind is barely with him in the present, simply let him.

A shaky sigh leaves your lips. “I often think to myself; had father been humble the first time around and apologized to Poseidon, had he raised Asterion humanely at the very least, perhaps things would’ve gone differently,” you confess, eyes shining with unshed tears as a furrow etched itself between your brows in despair. “I always waited for that change in my father’s greedy eyes, but in the end…” you purse your trembling lips where a bitter smile forms. “I had to wait for a sword to end it all.”

At that part of the recollection, you seem to sober up a little. “Father would’ve had me killed without a second thought if I hadn't left,” your eyes flicker towards him for a moment, and Hoseok recognized fear. "I don't think he even loves me enough to spare me a second to explain myself."

In the best way he knows how, the wine god attempts to steer you away from such terrible thoughts. “Your father’s a foul man, indeed,” he agreeably hums before putting on dramatics. “Perhaps I should make him grow horns and a tail if he's so adamant about the minotaur," he goes to mischievously nudge your shoulder, "or maybe I make him think he's a bull himself! What say you, hm?”

You laugh lightly at his suggestions but shake your head, not really thinking he's serious about his words when he's playfully enacting a charging bull with his hands on his head for horns. “No need,” you hush him, “Theseus already did enough damage by killing his prized monster.”

There's a faint falter to his face following your words and it made you falter—made unease simmer in the pit of your belly. "Theseus?" he quips, "the supposed hero of the tale then, I assume?"

Hoseok's change in attitude doesn't elude you, try as he might to keep it at bay. You could only hesitantly nod. “Why such disdain?” you then ask, a nervous chuckle leaving your lips as you try and decipher his expression. He's angry, you think, but why?

He tears away from your troubled stare and faces the campfire, stoking it with a nearby branch. “Some hero he is then," his grumbled words drip with sarcasm so prickly and cold that it makes you wince as though he had directed such poisonous words to you. You've never heard or seen him like this before—jaw clenched, nose flared, and glaring at the fire.

“I beg your pardon?”

Much more to your shock, Hoseok turns to you, nose stubbornly raised high as he crosses his arms. “You heard me,” he said with much more conviction than before. “Even if he slays a dozen Minotaurs, he will never amount to a true hero in my eyes.”

His displeasure towards Theseus somehow makes your heart shatter—makes you feel stupid for some reason, too. “How can you say such things with such sureness?” you huff, defensive, “have you even met the man you are so heartlessly berating?”

Tension rapidly rushes between you both—Hoseok being offended, and so do you.  “No,” he grunts, rolling his eyes, “but from what I see, he is definitely so.”

The wine god doesn't let you butt in, instantaneously laying his ground for arguments. “Leaving a young woman—a princess, mind you—alone on a desolate island to fend for herself isn’t such a heroic feat, is it?” he gritted through his teeth. “Not to mention the possibility that he must've feigned his adoration towards you in order to incite you into helping him kill the Minotaur.”

Your breath hitched, hurt by his insinuations. Theseus didn't really feign his feelings…. did he?

Hands clenching your dress in fists, you glare at your supposed friend. “It was noble of him to bring upon the death of Minotaur,” you sneer, "surely you cannot deny that?"

“Arguably so,” Hoseok scoffs, his piercing gaze pinning you down and making you feel small, “but what of him deserting you here?”

His words were a deadly blow to your heart, quickly killing any of your rebuttals in one fell swoop as that grim day flashes before your eyes all over again—the pounding headache, the empty space beside you, the derelict camp with marks of haste in the sand. The pain you've buried beneath shenaniganry crawls out of its grave to take a ghastly bite out of your aching heart.

You're a fool.

Why are you arguing with him about Theseus? Defending Theseus, no less?

Hoseok's dislike towards Theseus seemed so instant, so easy, that it came to you that maybe you had been blind after all, not seeing the folly of the hero you gave your heart to.

You're still a fool.

You breathlessly laugh with no true mirth that a laugh should have and in that instant Hoseok realizes what consequences letting his emotions get the best of him causes. Your pathetic laughing at your own downfall sends tears down your cheeks that you don't even seem to take note of. “You’re right,” you murmur your words so quietly, so defeatedly that Hoseok almost didn't hear you. “I had not known enough love from a man to have been certain that someone like Theseus would have settled for the likes of me—a princess of such a kingdom.”

You'll always be a fool.

(In truth, Hoseok's heart shatters then and there, guilt seeping in at every crack as he can't find the words to mend what pain he had subjected you to.)

Out of bittersweet reminiscing, you gestured beachwards where a tent of supplies had once been left for you. “At very least, he had the decency to leave a few supplies behind for me,” you poorly attempt to jest, “perhaps, that was enough mercy.”

Alas, the man you knew to be all smiles didn’t budge. Hoseok still gazed over you with a forlorn look on his face. His eyebrows were knitted together, with the ever growing wrinkle between them showing you nothing but frustrations. Why is he still angry?

Realizing then that you had been crying, you quickly wipe your tears away. You've embarrassed yourself. “There’s no need to be so cross with me, Hoseok,” you nudge his side, turning to the fire before you. “If I must admit it to you, I am an idiot to love.”

You feel more of the god’s ire and stare burning onto the side of your face. Was it pity for your circumstances or disdain for your lack of a fighting spirit?

You didn’t know. You didn’t like it.

Hands make themselves at home over your cheeks. Your eyes meet and you see a storm brewing in them—a part of you wanted to revel in it, while the other wanted to run for shelter.

“(Y/N)...” Hoseok began, soft yet firm, taking you aback from one of the few times he’s called you by your name. “You were wronged,” he tells you, “when will you truly tell yourself that?”

His words struck your heart, like lightning would a tree. His eyebrows were furrowed deeper, the upset frown on his face looking so misplaced. This was the storm—Hoseok’s rage for the bastard who broke you to the point where a part of you still felt at fault. 

"He should be grovelling," he said with such fury, "rue the day he left you here."

Hearing such words was a validation and a painful reminder put into one. Hoseok’s words were enough to help you slay the little bitch in you that held back your fury, held you back using the tight upbringings of your father.

All this time, if not avoiding the topic overall, you would blame yourself—be it your careless trust in the prince, or your foolish assumptions of being loved by the likes of him and his people.

Your entire life has been nothing but a force of people telling you it was your fault, when it wasn’t. It wasn’t your fault your mother was cursed to consummate with the bull your father double crossed Poseidon with. It wasn’t your fault a monster was born from such a union, and your father only used it further for his greed. It wasn’t your fault Theseus didn’t keep his word and left you here to rot.

You find courage in your heart to free yourself of your shackles for the second time—(yet another set of chains that bind you, just a bit more and you're free)—and to shout into the storm instigated by Hoseok’s anger.

Then and there, sobs rack through your whole being from the hurt dawning onto you all at once. "I know," you cried, shaking fists clenching the fabric of your dress yet again. You were wronged. You were wronged. You were wronged.

Arms wrapped around you tight, resisting the initial protest you gave them. “I apologize for starting such nonsense talk,” Hoseok sighs, hands rubbing circles on the expanse of your back. "I lost control over my anger and I spoke carelessly yet again," he grits through his teeth, partly disappointed in himself, "forgive this fool and his senseless mouth."

The wine god spends a good second looking at the heartache in your face, and feels his own heart suffer. He didn't want to see you like this again and yet he had failed miserably. “Cry all you want,” he then urges you, wiping at the cheeks of your snivelling self. “Let out your pain and I’ll lend you my shoulder, hm?”

You find yourself surrendering to the comfort, starved for the warmth you’ve never been given. Head tucked in the crook of his neck, you let yourself sob in Hoseok’s arms. You have nothing but the comfort of his embrace—nothing but him.

Things don’t quite settle the same after that night.

Hoseok’s eyes have been more keen on watching you—how your smile doesn’t reach its fullest, how you’ve become absentminded, or how you’ve excused yourself from most of the gatherings he invited you to. Your heart is in pieces and you cut yourself in the shards without care. The wine god, in spite of not really being one to gently console, has gone through a lot trying to hold it back together.

Here Hoseok was, leisurely laying against the trunk of a tree as the both of you sat under the canopy of the forest well into the afternoon. Beside him sat you idly weaving together a basket—or at least trying to. Time and time again, you cast him a fleeting glance that he makes no comment of.

Eventually, you decide to break the silence yourself. “You needn’t stay here with me,” you sigh, setting your craft on hold upon your lap as your eyes set a doubtful gaze on him. “I can tell how much this bores you.”

He cocks an eyebrow, his lips tugging upwards just a smidge. “I’m not bored,” he contends, though you still look unconvinced, brows furrowed and lips held in the ghost of a frown. “Truly, I am not,” he softly insists, “I, too, can enjoy some peace and quiet.”

You watch as he lays his head onto your thigh, sharing it with the basket-to-be you now couldn’t care less about. Nonetheless, you pick the weavework up to let the wine god make himself comfortable. "Shouldn't you be spreading your influence or something of the sort?" you huff as you once again busy yourself with the basket in your hands.

Surely, you thought, a promising god making his way up the pantheon such as him would prioritize that instead of a measly mortal like you, would he not?

Instead, the deity remains content on your lap in the midst of a quaint forest like it's the throne he belongs to. "They're fine," Hoseok shrugs with careless abandon as he usually does. "My cult won't crumble so easily."

Deep in thought, his dauntless eyes are piercing as they peek up at you even when they don't mean to—the doing of his intimidating, divine presence you suppose. “Enough about me. How are you truly faring, princess?” it was his turn to ask, placing a gentle hand on your shaking ones and stopping your poor weaving when you used it to hide your face from him. “Tell me.”

Whether it was the tenderness in his voice, the ounce of authority he puts in his words, or something else entirely, you sigh and forgo the thought of lying to him. Hoseok has now sat up before you, eyes awaiting any other sign he could take from your expression alone. You know you can deny or avoid the nature of your mind no longer—how it yearns for sweet release from your past yet becomes ensnared by the scornful chains of your contempt and the many questions left unattended to. “I want to put my past behind me, I truly do,” you confess, a bittersweet smile encapsulated on your lips, “but as much I crave for that, I, too, crave for answers, for justice.”

You would do just about anything else than to endure the silence that followed, eyes unable to look at him in fear of bursting the tears you were keeping at bay.

"What do you intend to do after receiving those answers?" Hoseok says after a good minute, sending you into a silence of thinking.

Lips parting, you try to formulate words, to show that you had some resolve over this, but none came out to your need. "I…" your voice cracks as you stammer an admission, "I don't know."

All but another bittersweet smile forms at your lips, your confession leaving you helpless. "But it'd be nice to know of the truth, would it not?" you weakly muse and pathetically steal a glance at the god beside you, only to see him stare off into the trees, his mind lost to thinking of something else.

Another while passes, the wine god beside you seems to be lost in his own thoughts before he decidedly nods to himself. "Alright then," Hoseok finally turns to look at you with a smile soft and comforting, as though telling you everything will turn out alright in the end.

You stare at him, incredulous. "What?"

Wordlessly, the god stood to his feet before you. “Do you trust me, princess?” Hoseok instead asked, offering no other explanation.

You look at his inviting hand—almost glaring.

The last time someone asked you that, you took the very hand that killed the monster of your kingdom, and jumped aboard a ship to flee the treason you both committed. The last time you trusted someone, you woke up an abandoned fool.

But this was Hoseok.

Hoseok, who may have been all shits and giggles, but always looked out over your wellbeing.

Hoseok, who was a god that took you in—freed you from shackles with him and his madness.

Hoseok, who was warmth in a different way than Theseus—a hearth rather than a torch, a home rather than a beacon.

You find yourself taking his hand before you could realize it, Hoseok’s tight, comforting grip causing you to meet with his eyes. His smile softens your resolve, ultimately leading you to surrender to his grasp. “I’ll trust you,” you tell him and something shifted as you said those words—his eyes sparkled more, his smile grew wider, his expression almost fonder than before.

The sky approaching sunset bathes you both in an orange and golden light, but it almost seems to make him glow. “What an honor,” he tenderly muses, taking the hand you gave him and tucking it on his arm as he begins to lead you elsewhere.

Something in you felt like he meant the words he said so jokingly—and you like it.

"Hoseok…"

The wine god has a lot of surprises up his sleeve, you should've known better than to be shocked when he brought you to a chariot pulled by Agrios and other leopards—let alone to be flying across the sky on it. You don't know what you expected the wine god to do when you took his hand, but it certainly wasn't this.

Around you now are pristine white buildings towering over you both, and in the distance is a statue of the goddess of wisdom you had heard so much about. So late into the evening, there are few people around, and yet you bask in it anyway, wondering how lively the streets become in the daylight when everything exudes such decorum.

Athens is as beautiful as you envisioned it—a marvel to take in and a heartbreak all the same.

Whether it was the cold breeze of the night or Hoseok's touch brushing across your skin as he reaches to catch your buckling form stepping down the chariot, you shiver. The wine god, nonetheless, catches your attention, seeing much of the worry and hesitation in swimming in the pools of your eyes. “You deserve your answers, princess,” he urges as he nods towards the palace, “and I’ll make sure he pays for it.”

And so, the two of you slip to and fro around the palace halls, his powers only getting him so far since he’s never one to visit Athens long—they’re too uptight and rational, he says. The night, fortunately, aids the both of you with the time, having fewer people around to stumble across. Hoseok, all the while, uses his divinity to drive away any guards or servants who become too close to discovering your presence. Your endeavors eventually lead you both to two big oak doors, its golden handles tempting you to open them forth.

This is the king's quarters.

"Go on," Hoseok's hush voice urged from behind you as he set down a now unconscious guard that tried to halt the both of you.

Still, you stood dumbly before the doors, unsure and with no courage to be found. Are you ready to see that face again? What will you say? What will you do?

Should you barge the doors open and say 'Hello, Theseus. Why in the world did you forsake me?' or simply stand before him menacingly like the ghost he left you to become?

Should you let your rage take the mantle and scream 'How could you do this to me?!' to your heart's content or be better and steadily interrogate him?

Should you—

"It'd do you well to think twice before doing anything irrational, mortal."

In panic at the unknown presence, you snap out of your frenzied thoughts and wheel around towards the voice that held an edge to the words uttered. A woman stands tall not far from you both, clad in a white and gold with her head held high, glowing almost otherworldly.

The next thing you hear is Hoseok's own voice, dripping with shock as his back straightens. "Athena?"

Your heart drops in an instant, dread filling your veins. The goddess Athena?

The wine god held the goddess’ stare, dauntless and careless as ever. Hoseok slowly pushes you behind him and opens the doors himself with his powers, locking the doors to the bedroom once you make it inside, too. The handles jiggle, a sign of you trying to come out, but it stops soon enough. 

A sigh and a shake of the head is what he receives from the goddess before him. If there was any rage, Athena hid it beneath a collected, tame facade. “You’re as troublesome as ever, Dionysus,” she drawls disapprovingly, but makes no other move. “For such a futile cause, too.”

With hands clasped behind his back, Hoseok remains in between her and the doors. “We’re simply here for answers, sister,” he modestly says, offering no harm to her subjects. “Nothing more.”

Athena’s brow quirks, knowing damn well it’s a lie. He would curse Theseus, if the exchange ever goes awry for you in any way. “If you wanted answers, I would’ve given them,” she quips, the moonlight illuminating her in such an intimidating way.

Alas, Hoseok is too brazen, too foolhardy to be intimidated. “I think she’d rather hear it from him instead,” he retorts, thinking it best for your much needed closure to face the one who broke your heart. (Only then can he truly come to lull you to love again.)

“It’ll only break her heart to know he really did abandon her.”

Such words knocked the wine god to a stupor. Athena’s face remains unreadable as she said it, but there was a gut feeling in Hoseok’s stomach that told him she was in league with the betrayal. Eyes narrowing to glare daggers at her, the wine god could feel anger rising within him. “You…” Hoseok growls, “did you have him abandon her?!”

Then and there, emotion flashed in Athena’s eyes—anger matching his own. “Do not raise your voice at me, brother,” she fires back with her own glare. “Know your place.”

Reminded of his station in the pantheon, Hoseok curses under his breath. You cannot manage to wage a war against a deity more powerful and influential than you.

Athena raises her head as she lays down her judgment of you. "She's not fit to be queen," she puts it so simply that it drags the frown on Hoseok’s lips further. "Her actions have marked her as a blood traitor. She cannot rule alongside Theseus, and so, she became an offering to you while on Naxos—a bride, perhaps."

The words render the wine god speechless. It wasn’t uncommon for travelers to give offerings to the deity of a region they stay amidst their journey. The chances of you having the same fate may have crossed his mind as a possibility once, but—

It was then that the prayer from that stormy night resurfaced.

… as told, to you, we leave a maiden of fair beauty and heart. May she make wonderful company.

You are the maiden offering, after all.

Having such a fact be confirmed to him after the two of you had been vulnerable to one another, it brews sickly guilt within him. To envision your tears and know that sorry state had been left for him, you had truly been nothing but a tool passed around—and that breaks him.

Still, looking at the grander scheme, his rage doesn’t ease. "Not fit enough to be the bride of a king, but fit enough to be the bride of a god?" a scoff leaves Hoseok’s lips as his heart beats erratically, still trying to make peace with what he had learned.

Athena only glowers, her silence enough to answer for her. The goddess doesn’t end her piece there, however. “Theseus will never love her in the way she wanted,” she says the truth and it’s cold—would’ve frozen your heart and made it shatter if you had heard them. “The people will never take it well to have their queen be the same princess who made them suffer either. She would’ve spent her life miserable here.”

“Don’t be so furious either, Hoseok,” she soon levels him with eyes knowing the truth in his heart and the meaning in his name. “I know that look,” Athena tells him, a smirk on her lips both mocking, knowing, and pitying. “If she hadn’t been abandoned, you would’ve never gotten to meet and love her yourself, won’t you, brother?”

Hoseok can’t bring himself to say anything else. The both of them knew that even if he were to deny it right here and then, he’ll only be lying to himself. 

The goddess of wisdom sees it fit to end the discussion soon. "Leave," she commands the last of her words somewhat both softly and sternly. "Take her with you before the guards are alerted of your trespass."

Just as she came, the goddess vanished out of thin air, leaving Hoseok alone to his muddled thoughts. The doors behind him seem to stare back, daring him to open them to see you.

Alas, he doesn’t have the chance to ponder any longer. His heart drops when he hears shouting from inside.

The moment you realized Hoseok had sealed you within the room, you were nearly paralyzed where you stood, hands stuck on the handles as you tried to steady your breathing. Go on, (Y/N). You’ve gotten this far. Get your answers.

The room around you is grand—almost grander than yours back in Crete—as it should be for a king’s chambers, you suppose. Soon enough, however, you hear voices.

“...ow has your day been?”

Just as you anticipated, someone’s inside—Theseus. Who’s he speaki—

“It’s been alright. Brother’s letter arrived, the search is yet to be fruitful…”

No. No, it can’t be…

Every step you take, it feels as though your heart is being squeezed right before your very eyes. Your body struggles against what your curious mind wants, as if trying to protect you from whatever was taking place.

It doesn’t protect you fast enough.

Standing in the open, your eyes meet two pairs of shocked ones—Theseus and your sister, Phaedra.

The two of them stood by a vanity table, her hand atop the one he comfortably had on her shoulder. "(Y/N)?" Theseus gawks, the first to speak, eyes wide as though he couldn’t believe he would ever see you alive and in front of him ever again. It twists your heart some more.

In that instant, your brain scrambles to pick apart the scene and make sense of it. Amidst the denial desperate to reserve what’s left of the ounce of respect you had for your time together, your rage is quick to burn the last of your affections for him. You’re a fool. You’re a fool. You’re a fool.

"You seem surprised, your highness," you drawl, voice so cold and sharp that it shocks even you. "Had I truly not been in your plans for your reign, after all?"

The young king before you is eventually knocked out of his stupor, his face molding into an indecipherable stare as he steps forth, his body tense as if you were a threat. “Leave,” is all he says to you after all this time. 

It's like a sword stabbed through your heart.

You look at the man you once loved—the very same man who swore to make you his and protect you now fulfill his promise to you to someone else. “You want me to leave?” you couldn’t help the bitter scoff that leaves your lips. “Some hero you are then.”

Questioning his deeds seems to be successful in getting a reaction out of him, his lips tugging to a frown and his eyes narrowing into a glare. "I slayed the Minotaur!" Theseus bellowed. "You do not have the right to insult me so."

Why did you even fall in love with this man?

"You may have been the sword that slayed our brother," you spat, body running hot with anger as your voice starts to strain the more you raise your voice, "but if it weren't for me—for my aid—you wouldn't have made it out of that labyrinth alive. You wouldn't be able to revel in the glory you're in now."

Phaedra and Theseus’ mouths gape at the fiery outburst that’s seized you, angry tears blurring your sight yet you continue your outcry. "To abandon me on that island and leave me for death," your chest heaves with pained, struggling breaths. "To go and marry my younger sister, too," you sob harder, seeing your sister avoid your eyes behind him and he shields her. "How low can your betrayal become?"

Your accusation makes Theseus flinch, but he remains thick-faced. "You weren't left for death," he denies yet again, "I was instructed to leave you there by the great goddess Athena. I have no fault in this."

The news leaves you stunned. "What?"

Theseus takes advantage of your faltering rage, readily giving you the answer you came all this way for. "I was told to leave you on Naxos as a sacrifice for Dionysus," he crossed his arms, raising his head to defiantly stare into your eyes and break your heart even more. "I’m simply being a loyal servant to my goddess."

While you had wondered once if being in Naxos with Hoseok was your new purpose in life, it never came to you that it had been the actual reason for your abandonment in the first place. Your trampled heart is thrown down an abyss you have no idea how to escape out of. The possibility of divine intervention never even came to you, always thinking to give Theseus the benefit of the doubt he never deserved.

Seeing his indifference, however, your shock was all too suddenly overcome with rage once more. You didn’t know what sort of answer you expected to hear from him, but you certainly didn’t prepare your heart for this amount of heartache. The absence of warmth from the man you used to think the world of, the discovery of your sister’s involvement, and the truth behind your tragedy—you hadn’t thought it’d be one blow to the heart after the other.

Even if he had simply been doing as he was told, it’s as if it had been a relief to have been told to leave you. Hands clenching the fabric of your dress, you try to still your beating heart—try to keep another outburst at bay. "Is that what you are then?" you say, voice hoarse and hurt, "obedient, but with no heart, no remorse for what you've done?"

Theseus fidgets once more, idly trying to reason. "I left you supplies—”

"I had no knowledge of survival!" you scream once again, words strained by the rough use and the ache. "I was trapped in that palace growing up and you did no better by leaving me helpless on that island!"

Couldn't he at least pretend to be guilty for having left you there? Couldn't he at least feign a broken heart for being forced to leave the woman he swore to love?

Yet, here he was—a prosperous king married to your dear sister.

Your sister, who knew of your fancy to the hero that snuck into your kingdom.

Your sister, who was the one to encourage you to meet him.

Your sister, who now holds the crown and title you were promised.

Another stab was taken to your heart. Two people you've trusted your love and faith to had stomped it so easily. You take yet another glance at your sister, who cowers at every word you shout yet clings onto his arm still. "Had I not been fortunate to have survived," you dare to ask, "had I died then and there, would you have felt anything for me?"

They were both silent, guilt written on their faces in a way that told you they would've likely not, had it not been for you appearing before them, proposing the concept now. "I loved you,” you whimpered, the fabric of your dress nearly ripping from how tightly you gripped them. “I loved both of you!"

Theseus, your first love turned first romantic heartbreak.

Phaedra, your beloved confidant turned treacherous thief.

Heart trampled and filled with rage, you want to charge at them, screaming and hitting to your heart's content, but you’re tired—so, so tired. Your knees give out in no time, rendering you on the ground with nothing to support you. Even your lungs seem to lose faith in you, struggling to supply you with air and leaving you light-headed by the minute as you hyperventilate through your sobs.

In your sorry state, Theseus could still only think of himself and his queen. “That’s enough, (Y/N),” he all but demands, heartless as ever over your fallen frame. “Leave or I’ll call the palace guards.”

For once, you find yourself agreeing to the Athenian king’s words. You’ve got your answers. You can’t bear to be around them any longer. Leave. You want to—

The doors burst open in a fury, capturing everyone’s attention towards the perpetrator—a certain wine god panickingly looking around the room. The moment your eyes meet with Hoseok’s, they soften for a moment before they harden yet again at the sight of your former lover and sister.

Theseus’ eyes are wide as your crestfallen form is wordlessly lifted in the air and towards the stranger who readily carries you in his arms, while you wound your arms around his neck and cry into his shoulder. The Athenian king’s heartbeat began to quicken as he realized just who this man might possibly be—the very god he left you to, Dionysus.

The queen is the only one that seems to be confused. “Theseus?”

A hand reached out to signal her to keep quiet, head humbly bowing down, as with one last glare sending shivers up their spine, the wine god leaves with you just as they had been wanting. There’s a terrible feeling settling in the pit of the king’s stomach.

They’ve incurred the wrath of a god.

Hoseok couldn't cast aside his worry, no matter how hard he tried—couldn't help but cast his worrying gaze behind him where you sat at the edge of his chariot, feet dangling in the air as Agrios and the others dragged the chariot through the air.

The night breeze brushes colder on the shoulder where your tears soaked his tunic and it all but puts more weight onto his heart. As the one manning the whole chariot, his place on it obstructs him from checking on you for too long. Since you two left Athens, he wonders if you’ve stopped crying, if you’re still with no strength in your knees, or if your cruel mind’s been repeating whatever that bastard may have said. 

It was a few painful hours of silence traveling back to Naxos, but it was a safe one nonetheless. Quickly taking care of the reins and wordlessly dismissing Agrios and his siblings to rest themselves, the wine god comes to your side, hesitant to pull you from your trance, lest it summons back your tears. "Princess...?" he gingerly calls out, "We have arrived…"

Before he could place a hold on your shoulder, your body moved on its own, still not with him mentally as you nearly trip over tree roots and crash onto the ground had it not been for him catching you last minute. You seem to stop then and there, letting nearly half your weight be carried by the arm that was wrapped around your middle.

The moment Hoseok notices the slight movement of your head towards him, he seized the chance. "About what happened—"

"We shouldn't have ever come there," your hoarse voice cuts his rambling off, glistening eyes soon looking up at him. He looks back at you with furrowed brows, just as crestfallen. "I shouldn't have listened to you,” your head shakes as you try to pull away from him. ”I shouldn't have."

It wasn't a fair accusation. You knew well you asked for answers, and now that the ones you sought have trampled over your poor, unfortunate heart, your addled mind could only deny it's own fault and blame the one who only intended to help you. You're a fool, through and through.

Hoseok gives you a bit of distance, but shifts his hold onto your wrists instead, keeping you from truly running away from him. "I didn't expect the situation to go so aw—"

“Is it true?”

The wine god is interrupted yet again, and it sparks frustration within him. "What is?” he nonetheless asks, confused for a moment, until he becomes terrified at the realization that Theseus may have told you the truth of what had taken place that day.  

You kept your head down, staring down at where his hands held you. “Was I…” your voice shakes, but it's so quiet he almost doesn't hear you. ”Was I really left on this island for you?”

It seems you dread hearing the truth once again, but Hoseok doesn't lie—you don't deserve any more of it. One painful truth after the other will leave you with more time to heal.

Hoseok knew he had yet to take a wife for himself, his reputation infamously paved with numerous lovers and flings just like many gods of the pantheon—especially his father, Zeus. Pairing that with his lax management of his godly duties has ended him in this tragic predicament, entangled with the strings of fate that twist your heart in its bounds and knots.

(He doesn't want to hurt you. He would never want to hurt you. He'll sit down and untangle this mess forever if he has to.)

As he swore, Hoseok tells you what he knows. "When we came around the shrine that day," he shakily began, drawing idle figures on the skin of your wrist. "I did discover a prayer about a maiden offering left for me, but I thought it’d be a coincidence for it to be you. You were left so haphazardly on the beach, I thought it was a separate incident, until…"

Hoseok could sense your chest shakingly heave before your breath hitches, bracing yourself for the next of his words.

“Athena confirmed it herself," the wine god tells you, watching as your lungs give out a big outbreath of shock and ruin that doesn’t ease your heavy heart in any way. "She saw it fit to have Theseus sacrifice you here, said you would’ve been miserable in Athens if you were to be queen as he promised.”

The thought of marriage with you in Hoseok's mind becomes bitter now that it's been soiled by such a cruel trick. No amount of wine could ever wash down the ugly mark of it. How can you love him after this?

For the first time since, you raise your head, your eyes glossy yet they seem to have run out of tears to shed. “Did he…" your words fall short of a whisper, "did he really have no protests to such orders? Did it come that easy for him to get rid of me?”

Hoseok's own heart is upset at the notion of you still letting that bastard have power over your heart, but he casts that aside in favor of your vulnerable self. All he can do now is speak his truth. “I do not know.”

You become silent then and there, slowly moving out of his grasp and he, unsure of what else to do, lets you. Hoseok's heart would burst from his chest if it could. He watches closely as you roughly wipe at your damp cheeks and forcibly draw your lips to a smile. It's bitter and, like the rest of you, unstable. “Well, the fates have certainly decided what my purpose in this world is,” you say aloud, a breathless chuckle escaping your lips.

You don’t think you can ever hate Hoseok for this—even if you did try—but in the grand scheme of things, you're a mere mortal subject to the gods, the fates, and their will. Always a pawn to someone else.

There was an obvious look of defeat and despondency in your eyes. Hoseok doesn’t like it—mourns because of it. All the time you spent together—raising your spirits, encouraging you out of your shell, and instilling confidence in you—was now all for naught, and it doesn’t help that he’s involved with the downfall of it all.

“(Y/N)...”

“It doesn’t matter now,” you’re quick to shut down any more of his attempts to comfort you, now sure that you’re bound for this misfortune in life. “I got my answers.”

Look at what it got me.

In the near distance, you see the cave that served as the roof over your head for months now—a far cry from the palace you knew, but it was everything. It was home, and now, you’re not so sure what it is exactly—if you can still think of it as a home knowing the man you found, built, and shared it with turned out to be someone you were offered and abandoned to, like an unknowing pup passed from one owner to another.

In truth, a part of you—deep down, buried under all that grief and hurt—understood Athena's intentions, and perhaps, you'll come across the acceptance for it after all the pain subsided. Alas, for now, your thoughts are becoming too loud—heartache, existential dread, and wallowing in one. Time—you need time to think, and then, perhaps, something to make your mind go numb for a couple of hours.

Decidedly, you march forth, stumbling a little as you leave the wine god where he stood. Though an apology weighs down at the tip of your tongue, all you could do is shamefully excuse yourself, eyes cast down and body fidgeting. “I’ll get myself something to drink...”

When you said those words, Hoseok indulged your need for space, he, himself, thinking it would do good to let some wine soothe the thoughts and emotions overwhelming you. Alas, it’s hours after the exchange, and by the time he entered your abode expecting you to be passed out already, you were still showing no sign of stopping. You’ll drink yourself to death, at this point. “That’s enough drinking, (Y/N),” he tuts, prying the wooden chalice and bottle from your surprisingly stubborn fingers. "You know Yoongi isn't around to give you the remedy for this."

His light jest doesn't do well to deter you. “Nonsense,” you slurred, sputtering some of the wine onto his robes as you tried to chase what he took.

You end up stumbling in his arms, and, in spite of both hands being occupied, Hoseok wound an arm around your waist to hold you up. For a second, he feels your body tense, perhaps mulling over whether to push him away from you or not, but ultimately, you mouthed no protest, too dizzy and too tired to.

The wine god finds himself beginning to understand why the rational, uptight people held great disdain for his masterpiece. Wine and other spirits numb down the drinker, merely delaying the inevitable reality they'll face, and, especially knowing the heavy reason behind your drinking, Hoseok feels upset with himself even more. “You can’t drink the pain away, princess,” he sighs, setting the wine bottle down so his now free hand can brush back the hair that stuck to your sweaty face.

Face scrunching at his touch, you whine and try to lull away from his hand. Through heavy-lidded eyes you peer up at him, almost in a glare. “But I can forget,” you stubbornly insist, a tear sliding down your cheek as your lips quiver. “I don’ know what else to do.”

There’s a frown on his lips, Hoseok could tell, and his brows are furrowed together like yours as he gently wipes his thumb across your cheek. It's easy to want to forget in a fragile time like this, and while wine can make you forget, Hoseok refused to lose you to it. He places the chalice down onto the table, ridding what keeps him from fully embracing you. "He doesn't deserve your tears," he finds himself saying those words through gritted teeth, "or your love."

You don’t seem to be clearly understanding his words, but you’ve let your head fall to his shoulder, burying it there as your hands raise to rest themselves on his chest. (If you had been a bit sober, you would’ve been aware of how fast his heart beats under your touch.)

"M' heart hurts," you all but murmured weakly against his tunic, followed by a sniffle. The words that follow fall from your lips in a dazed and defeated whisper. "Love always eludes me like this."

The wine god’s heart is clenched so tightly by your words that it leaves his face in a pained expression, as if he had actually been stricken with ichor running down his skin. If this was what you’ve come to believe, you’re sorely mistaken, and damn Theseus and everyone else for making you think in such a way. "You are loved, princess," he arduously declares, burying his head into your hair as he hugged you tighter. “Don’t ever think otherwise.”

At his words, he feels your head turning to the side where it leaves you listening to his heart. Hoseok wonders if you could tell his heartbeat’s pace is quickening now. Surely, you do, right? It’d be further testament to his proclamation—proof of the things you do to him, a god in his own right.

"I am?"

It was a quiet murmur, yet it spoke volumes of the doubt loudly seizing your head. Hoseok is crushed and you’re none-the-wiser to every crack your sadness compels onto his heart. "Mhm," he hums, pulling away so his hands can take a hold of your face as he lists the people you’ve managed to brighten up with your presence in your short time here. "Agrios, Silenus, Yoongi, Aldora, Alenka…"

Hoseok stares into your glistening eyes, a smile so soft on his lips as he sees you slowly coming back to him. For a moment, the wine god thinks to himself, whether or not to make his love known to you after all this time. I love you, such words dangle on the tip of his tongue. More than I ever thought I could love anyone else.

The faint scent of his wine on you, however, reminds him of your delirious state of mind, of how drunk it is. A waste of an opportunity to confess, he thinks. He'd rather have you fully sober when the time comes. "And me," was all he could say at that moment, but he said it with as much heart and warmth as he could muster. "We all love you very much."

(I love you. I love you. I love you.)

The wine god watches as you soften at his words, sobering a little as you take them in with a faint smile on your lips. He knows not if you’ll remember this exchange in the morning, but Hoseok hopes you can at least remember the feeling of it, and know that, even if the rest of the world shuns you, so long as he lives, Naxos will welcome you with open arms. “You best remember that, hm?” he playfully chides you, "You are loved."

Your hands gingerly snake from his chest and up to his hands where they rest upon your cheeks, replying with a gentle, meak nod. The last of your tears eased along with the spirits in your veins, the clarity of your actions the past hours now washing over a new sense of guilt onto you. "Forgive me," you softly tell him, gathering the strength to look up to meet his eyes as you did. "I was unfair 'n a nuisance," your words fall over one another, drowsiness bleeding into them as a result of exhaustion from everything that has taken place. "None of it was your fault."

The wine god earnestly thinks for a moment, as tingles travel up his arm from where you started unconsciously drawing idle circles on the back of his hand. A part of him hurts still—both of you are. “You have the right to be upset over what you just learned.” he began, one hand freeing itself from your hold only to caress your cheek. “I can only hope you'll be able to heal from it soon.”

A mellow beat of silence follows suit, as your eyes softly stare back, warm, grateful, and lost in thoughts as you mull over his words. “Thank you,” you whisper, simple words running deeper as the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips.

Encouraged by a twinkle of soft endearment in your eyes, the wine god rests his forehead against yours, savoring the moment while you let him. Hoseok doesn’t think you’re even aware of how beautiful you look in the dim moonlight like this. With lips only mere inches apart, too, the wine god thinks he's never faced such temptation ever before in his life. Practicing poise unbecoming of the wild-hearted spirit he once was, he settles for a mere kiss on the crown of your head. His lips linger there for a moment, and though he didn't want to part just yet, he does so in order to guide you towards the bed. “Sleep,” he casually urges, “you need it.”

Exhaustion easily comes to you as soon as you hit the covers, eyelids heavy as you try and keep them open. Your hand keeps its loose hold on his, a slight tug wordlessly inviting him to stay with you. "Don't leave," you tenderly say, eyes pleading with him in such a way that it effectively disarms any semblance of reason in his head.

Indulging you and himself, the wine god takes the space next to you (unlike last time). Once the blankets have been laid out over your bodies, Hoseok finally rests his head on the pillow. You face one another with your hands still interlocked together, in spite of the shy boundary existing in between the rest of your bodies.

“Good night, princess,” he quietly murmurs into the darkness of the night, thumb drawing shapes on your skin as you did his. “I’ll be right here with you.”

The moment you wake up, however, an empty space greets you.

Try as you might, the void in your heart persists as you muster the strength to sit up from the bed, the sleep weighing down your bones slowly dissipating the more your consciousness returns to the real world. The search for warmth—for his presence—was so instant, it was practically instinct.

This wasn’t the first time you woke up alone. Why does his absence bother you so?

Pieces of last night come to your mind. Athens, Athena herself, and the confrontation, make your heart hurt more for a moment, but, at the same time, the sweet words, the tender kiss to the forehead, and the comfort of his hand came to you. Though vague and a bit blurry in between, the feeling of it never escapes you, sending you furiously blushing as you bury your head into your palms.

Gods, get a hold of yourself, (Y/N).

The faint sound of music from outside soon draws your attention—a song sounding so familiar. In an instant, your brows furrow together in confusion.

Ultimately, your mind once again wanders to the wine god you spent the night crying to. You need to talk, especially now that you’re sober and a bit better with reining in your emotions. Your head pounds, a sensation you’re very much familiar with, but by some miracle, you manage to get yourself together, and head out into the world a bit presentable.

“Hoseok?” you tentatively call out, looking around the forest that surrounds your cavern for the music.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, princess.”

Heart nearly leaping from your chest, you immediately turn around towards the source of the voice and the hearty laugh you just heard—the speed of which sends a spike of pain to your head. You see Silenus, the old satyr leaning against a nearby tree with his pan flute in hand and a teasing grin. He must've been the one playing the tune. "I apologize," you stammer, flustered to have been caught in such a way. “What brings you here?” 

Silenus' smile turns a bit warmer. "A little bird told me to keep watch while he's away," he knowingly says, making your heart skip a beat then and there.

Hoseok?

In spite of the dulling headache, you hold back the urge to go back inside, sleep, and simply wait till the wine god comes back. Instead, you approach the satyr, gathering strength to converse. "Where did he go?" You ask, bashful still but you waited for answers anyway.

"Somewhere," the satyr simply shrugs, and you're left with disappointment you cannot voice aloud. You settle for a seat by a protruding tree root not too far from where Silenus sat.

The moment you sat down, the old man wastes no time to strike conversation. “I heard a lot happened last night,” he hums good-naturedly. “What troubles you still, princess?”

Consciously, you think to yourself if the frown and furrowed brows had settled so naturally on your face for him to have noticed. Either way, whether it was because you needed another set of eyes on the situation, or you needed to vent out what's left of your ire, you tell Silenus the events that unfolded last night—Hoseok taking you to Athens, meeting Athena, confronting Theseus and Phaedra, and learning the truth. “I know the fault isn’t his. I just…” you eventually sigh, struggling to put your emotions into words. “I just feel toyed with?"

Life, in the end, is very much like the palace you grew up in—an elaborate game with harsh rules you must follow to survive. Yet another role was thrusted into your hands to play—a sacrifice? a scrap for the taking?

"Some part of me finds it hard to look at him the same way I once did, but at the same time…”

I'm not entirely against it—

No. You can't say that.

Beside you, Silenus nods, taking in the implications of your words in spite of you not knowing exactly what you mean to say. For once, you realize, he looks a bit more serious. "Well, the Fates toy with everyone," he eventually comes to say, "thread mingling with thread, stubborn knots ruining a patch or two, but in the end, when all the threads are cut, the loom displays the grand tapestry that bears all of the fruits of the game we played—be it good or tragic."

The talk of the Fates brings back a frown on your lips. The strands have a life of their own, full of potential and calling to one another as they’re spun, guided, and cut by each of the Fates. "What if I don't want to play the game of looms and threads anymore?" you dared to idly wonder aloud as you pulled your knees closer to you. It was an ugly thought, you know, but you've been left too exhausted to stop them from resurfacing, dreading how long Lachesis intended to pull along the thread meant for you when it’s so frayed with misery—how long you’d have to be weaved into the tapestry of humanity for before your thread finally meets Atropos' shears.

It’s the satyr who frowns this time, setting his pan flute aside. "One may unravel as a stray thread, but it's one without any other color," he wisely tells you, "without life."

You mull the words over, a bitterness coming over you now that the unkind demons got the better of you. Your part of the tapestry will be ugly anyway, it cruelly hisses—a vile comment a bigger part of you agrees with.  "I play terribly with the game of life," you cross your arms over your knees as you idly look into the wilderness spanning out before you.

"Then learn to play better,” Silenus chides, meaning well but it slaps you awake all the same. “It depends on who you play with, does it not?"

Threads calling to other threads allow for millions of possibilities to take shape, lingering around one another until an ultimate choice intertwines two or more together in a game of who wins or loses with their experiences. "The Fates can give us an array of colors to entangle with and Hoseok, that silly boy," the satyr grins with a fond shake of his head, "is vibrant—a great thread and playmate to be entangled with, if you ask me."

No truer words have been said, and because it was the truth, you can't deny yours either. "But I don't understand why I can ever be entangled with him in the first place," you counter, still playing along with the thread analogy. "I'm dull compared to him."

The thread of the gods must be glowing and gilded compared to that of mortals. Even at your very best, you don't think you could ever even amount to him.

The satyr sighs, sparking shame from your conscience. "You ask too many questions, princess," he shakes his head and stares down at you. “What if that’s why you were given the chance to be entangled with him, hm?”

You gawk at the old man, preparing for a stern lecture but he maintains a softer, passionate manner. "The two of you compliment one another in many ways," he says so surely, so confidently that it flusters you. "He's wild and you're tame, and so, you teach him how to calm down while he coaxes you out of your shell."

"You both tend to forget yourselves, but look out for the other," he adds, rendering the blush on your face to be worse. "You're practically attached by the hip, too!"

Ultimately, Silenus's words leave themselves ingrained in your head and bring your butterflies to life. "He very much wants to be in your life, and you, in spite of everything else, deprive yourself of him—of all of this."

Is it really depriving?

You think to yourself if your aversion to the divine and your scars from love had indeed led you to this cruel state of mind—of depriving yourself of companionship from someone else. The more you think of it, the more the denial retaliates against the realization. You can't, right? That sort of thing would mean you lo—oh, gods. Do you really?

Seeing your eyes blown wide, lost in arguing thoughts, Silenus knocks down your doubts some more. "Would it really be so bad to play this game of life with him?" he asks, half sincere and half temptingly.

The question begs you to envision it—a life accepting your sacrifice to Naxos and living with Hoseok. When all wounds heal into fading scars and all ache lay buried beneath many happy memories, when your body is spent contently exhausted from gatherings and shenanigans, when you continue to stand at the end of Hoseok's bright, endearing smile for the rest of your life, would it truly be so terrible of a life?

“No,” the word leaves your lips whimsically, a soft smile tempting your lips at the thought of such things. “I don’t suppose it would.”

If Hoseok were to let you leave Naxos—and he undoubtedly would do it for your sake if you so desired it—then, where would you even go? Who else would you run to?

Silenus grins at you seeing the light out of the darkness. “There you have it then,” he concludes, bringing his hands together in a satisfied clap.

In spite of what's left of your emotions still left with questions unanswered, you are, nonetheless, grateful for the time he spent to impart his advice to you. “Thank you, Silenus,” you say, "and I'm sorry."

The old satyr waves it off nonchalantly, picking up his flute once again to play. This leaves you seeking your own peace and quiet to think more things through—especially that question. “I’ll be going then,” you bid him farewell, pushing yourself up from where you sat and dusting off your wrinkled dress.

It was only when Silenus noticed you were walking away from the cave instead of towards it that he spoke again. “Where are you off to?” he calls out, compelling you to turn around with a reassuring smile after recalling him saying he was here under a favor for the wine god.

“The beach,” you tell him, pointing towards a direction you knew all too well. “Just for a walk. You needn't come with me.”

You need time alone to confirm something to yourself—confirm what your true feelings for the wine god are. Silenus seemed to have understood this need for contemplation, as he simply nodded and remained where he was, readily waiting just as he had waited before you woke up.

With barely any effort, the walk to the beach easily becomes a nostalgic one. Under the canopy of towering trees that used to be so terrifying and foreign to you that stormy night, your feet now wander with a mind of its own, already knowing the path by heart. The sound of the waves that soon reach your ears pluck at your heartstrings in a beautiful melody, and the moment your shoes dip onto the sand, a shiver runs down your spine.

Months ago this was merely some island you were marooned on, and now, it’s everything to you. You know well who’s to blame for this sweet, homely feeling—who’s made it easy to fall in love with this place and hard to ever truly hate for what else it had meant.

A sigh follows one deep breath as you look at the shore, envisioning where the camp had once been—where the Fates had led your thread to meet the stranger wine god. In the struggle within your heart, acceptance was beginning to turn the tide.

Yes, this is your reality now. This is ho—

"Halt!"

Once again, the living daylights were scared out of you, and this time, your heart had reason to pound erratically. In the distance were a group of men, armed with bows and armored in leather. At first, you thought them to be hunters, but as they approached you with the arrows drawn and some with hands on the hilt of the swords on their waist, you began to see familiar faces among them.

Soldiers from Crete.

You were torn between the urge to run and the instinct to stay put, knowing well you won't get far with this many people hunting you down. The latter, however, wins as fear aids to paralyze you. You did your best to seem as collected and civilized as you could, whilst their weapons raised menacingly against you. "So you've found me," it was a surprise to you how you manage to say it so steadily and calmly in one fell swoop. Deep down, you're terribly frightened.

A beat of silence passes.

One of them, you notice, gives discreet commands to another of, what you think, a lesser rank. You're as taut as the bows drawn against you, watching intently as the aforementioned soldier leaves the scene—to rally more of their comrades, you realize.

The moment one of them breaks the silence and makes a charge towards you, you finally feel your body move in response, quickly grabbing sand and throwing it to the soldier's face. As he yelps and clutches his face, you try and make a grab for the sword that fell from his hand, but the slightest touch to the bronze blade was thwarted by a powerful force from your side that sends you flying away from it.

Harshly landing on the sand, your whole body feels on fire. Your chest burns from the half scream and half gasp that escapes you, clutching your side as the pain from the kick brings immediate tears to your eyes. No, you refuse to go down like this. Hoseok, Agrios, Silenus —You have to get back to them. You have to.

You muster all the strength to push yourself from the sand, only to be met with more weapons drawn at you. "Surely, I'm not the only one accountable for this," you sneer at them, chest still heaving. "Father better also have sent his crude soldiers to Athens."

A strong hand yanks your hair upwards, eliciting a pained scream from your mouth. "You're but a felon now," the soldier spat as your thrashing was no match for his vice strong grip. "We do not owe you respect."

Among them was a man who you recognize as a captain of the guards. He has his eyes set on you, stepping closer to tell you a news that shocks you to your core. "The king's dead, princess," he says, voice cold, eyes piercing, and hand guiding his sword to your neck as he watches your eyes widen.

Since your abandonment, you didn't really expect to be able to hear of your father's fate, but you suppose his deeds would've eventually caught up to him as he deserved it.

Two soldiers roughly held you up by either arms, caging you as their leader continued. "Shortly after you fled with the Athenian bastard, he was slain while looking for Daedalus and his son," the captain told you, digging the blade to your skin where it draws a thin red rivulet. "We are here to give him justice."

In spite of your body responding to everything with telling signs of fear—trembling frame, streaming tears, and pounding heart—you speak defiantly and just as harsh. "This is no justice!" you grit through your teeth, raising your head high to glare back at the men surrounding you. "Father's greed is to blame for his own downfall—deceiving Poseidon, getting mother cursed, and having the Minotaur ruin the innocent lives of many. They all lead back to him and you're all as blind as bats if you think otherwise!"

(It's also your father's fault that he managed to build a strong army loyal to him, and now, even in death, he makes life difficult for you.)

The captain's glare turned murderous, nose flaring. "How dare you!" He roared, raising his sword in the air as a look of horror flashed in your eyes.

In spite of your best efforts to escape—wriggling around like a madwoman, stepping harshly on their feet—it's futile, your head instinctively looking away as you wait for the blade to come.

This is it.

This is the end of you.

The wine god's eyes eagerly search for the familiar clearing, and, in his haste, the whole chariot shakes at the rough landing he had gotten himself. Hoseok sees Silenus under the tree where he left him, lips parting from the pan flute to grin at the young god. "Will you finally tell me where in the world you snuck off to this time?" The old satyr stands back on his hooves and rests his hands on his hips in a playful scolding.

"Just somewhere," Hoseok simply shrugs, but the smirk on his lips betrays the supposed casualness of his absence. In truth, he visited Aphrodite and Eros for a little favor. After all, by the wine god's rules, one can easily earn themselves just about anything if one offers great wine and drama.

(The goddess of love was surely not happy with what Theseus had done. He won't be getting any luck with love or lust any time soon—or ever.)

Never the matter, that's the least of his priorities now. “Has (Y/N) woken up yet?” Hoseok asks, wordlessly dismissing the leopards to rest from their trip—save for Agrios who decided to linger.

Silenus' smug grin brings heat to the wine god’s cheeks. “Ah, yes,” the old satyr nonetheless answers, “just a while ago. Had a lot of things on her mind, that one.”

The talk, the kiss, Hoseok immediately thinks, anticipation setting his entire being ablaze. “Where is she then?” he’s quick to ask, his eyes set on the first place he could see, the cavern.

Instead of that, however, Hoseok watches as the satyr gestures to a direction he knew all too well. “The beach,” Silenus tells him, “gone for a walk she says. If you hurry along, you two might go for a little swim together, heh?”

Hoseok could only roll his eyes at Silenus' words (though he does give the fantasy a thought or two). He wastes no time to walk forth with Agrios quietly following suit. There’s something in the air that makes his insides twist. Is it his anxiousness over talking with you again? Will you leave? Will you stay?

“I don’t look too much of an idiot as of now, yes?” the wine god jests to his spotted beast for his sake, a nervous chuckle forced past his lips. Agrios, who can’t talk in the first place, does well to give Hoseok an unimpressed look without even trying, walking ahead without being bothered by the pout the wine god gives him.

“A little support would b—”

A growl reached his ears, cutting his whine short as the sight of Agrios’ alert and defensive stance worsens the terrible feeling in his stomach. All too suddenly, the wine god’s face falls serious, realizing the leopard was glaring towards the beach. “What is it?” he whispers to the beast, cautiously approaching the beach with Agrios.

The moment he heard the pained scream and yelling, Hoseok's heart dropped.

The moment he saw a blade levied against you, Hoseok's body leapt into action.

The moment he had you at arm’s length, Hoseok's mind could only ever think of shielding you.

"(Y/N)!"

Hoseok, assured by the sight of Agrios coming to your aid and mauling any soldier who dared to come at you both, is quick to use the time to look over you as your shaken knees make you fall onto the sand. The moment he hears a whimper and sees the tears, the pounding fear in his heart gives way for rage. This allowed him to focus on what’s left of the men that surrounded you, all three currently hesitant with the spotted beast daring them to so much as take another step forward.

Hoseok is terrifying when he wants to.

"You dare come to hurt her?" he drawls, his furious presence easily towering all over them with his piercing eyes seemingly rendering them frozen where they stood. There’s been a change in the air—tense, heavy, and almost suffocating. 

Though their swords and bows begin shaking in their grip, the soldiers remain headstrong in arrogance. “Our business isn’t with you,” the captain tries to negotiate, weapon still drawn. “Give us the woman and we’ll leave you be.”

The laughter that falls past Hoseok’s lips sends a shiver down even your spine. “What makes you think I’ll do as you say?” he dares them, taking another step forth.

An arrow is fired.

Whether it was done intently or instinctively by one of the soldiers, it nonetheless managed to graze Hoseok’s exposed arm and narrowly missed your head. There's a look of fear that sets in their eyes, seeing golden ichor instead of crimson blood running down Hoseok's skin from where the arrowtip struck. 

In that instant, they come to realize the grave mistake they’ve made.

All of them fall to their knees, their weapons making a pathetic thud on the sand. Their lips quiver, trying to scramble strings of apologies together but they make no comprehensible noise, all as the wine god proceeds to glare down at them. If they're so bent on such filthy violence, Hoseok decided, then he'll give them the carnage they so seek.

One by one, what's left of the men began screaming, pointing at each other with madness and fear in their eyes. Their own thinking and frenzy fuel the work of Hoseok's curse upon them, and they start running around one another with their weapons drawn.

What horrifying feat befalls them at their own hands, you didn't have the chance to know (nor would you ever want to) as a figure kneels down before you. Shaking hands caress your face, gently guiding you to meet eyes with pools of endless worry. “Are you alright?” he asks, chest heaving as he did.

The most you could muster was a numb nod, thoughts still frazzled from everything that went wrong on your supposed peaceful, reflective walk on the beach. Before you was an unconvinced god, remnants of his rage seething like demons and insisting that the curse on the soldiers wasn’t enough.

That’s the least important matter at hand right now, he reminds himself. Gathering you in his arms and calling for Agrios, Hoseok doesn't waste any more time and usher you away from the scene. The moment he makes the journey towards the forest however, he feels your hand squeeze him tighter.  

"Don't," you say, eyes finally seeking his, but they’re filled to the brim with fear and urgency.

Immediately concerned, Hoseok stops in his tracks. "Why?" he asks, setting you down with the intent to look over your body more closely. "Is something wrong? Are you hurt?"

Your hands tremble where they came to hold onto his arms. "No," you shake your head, looking towards the forest. "More are coming."

Hoseok dismissed the worry, no doubt ready to argue he can deal with them and so you quickly retorted. "What if they're in the forest?” you pour out the predictions you’ve constructed in your head. “What if they see the cavern and come back with even more soldiers?"

For a moment, the wine god contemplates this. Even if more do come, Olympus would have to fall first before he’d even consider the thought of letting them take you away, but right now, you need assurance and time to calm down. Looking over to the leopard in a wordless conversation, the two of them share a look of agreement and after a gentle brushing against your skirts in a comforting farewell, the big cat heads into the forest without another word.

Before you could wonder where Agrios was going, Hoseok intertwined his fingers with yours, gently tugging you along a different direction—the pool cavern.

The cavern looks as pristine as you remember, and the fond memories effectively ease your nerves. Hoseok walks over to the wooden chest you two brought here a few days around the return of spring, and fishes out a linen cloth to drape over your shoulders. "You can stay here," he tells you, as he brushes your hair back. "I'll see to it that they'll never come back here again."

Chewing at your lips, you mull over what words to say. His protection warms your heart, but the thought of being a nuisance twists it all the same. You let yourself fall forth to embrace him. "Be careful," you murmur against his chest, and he responds with a squeeze—a wordless assurance that he will, for you.

Your sole purpose here in the cavern pool was safety, and yet, you all but feel emptiness the moment the wine god leaves.

Hours passed, the sun settling high in the sky and well into the afternoon. You’ve taken a seat on the edge of the pool, your calves submerged in the water lapped by gentle ripples made by your lightly swinging feet.

It was fortuitous that the silence you’ve been given here has allowed you to do the reflecting that was cut so short by the ambush earlier on.

Before you were so rudely interrupted, you had been warming to the idea of accepting your fate to be in Naxos, and the events that had taken place had only served to further engrave the sentiment into your heart.

Have you gone mad?! You should be scared! the old part of you hisses from its derelict shell. Have you forgotten what divine wrath did to your life? 

Perhaps, you have gone mad.

(What kind of sane person has a heart that skips a beat at the thought of a god cursing someone who dared to harm them, or dare to get even a little bit of satisfaction out of it?)

A new battle brews between mortification and shamelessness at your change in lens towards Hoseok. This was hardly the time for it, you remind yourself. There is much to be done with your father’s loyalist at your tail.

In spite of your best efforts, the time continues bringing your heart’s utter affection for Hoseok and everything on this island to light and clarity, and you grow all the more weary with waiting. You wonder how Hoseok was faring with the soldiers—how everyone else in the forest would be. Mortals may not truly, fatally harm gods, but they are still capable of destruction, and you’d hate for Naxos to fall into trouble if any word of your being here were to get out.

The sound of footsteps makes you jump from your skin, anxiously anticipating who would appear at the entrance with a million questions running through your mind a minute.

The moment you see Hoseok's familiar face, however, relief washes over you, so much so that tears brim your eyes. "You're back," you breathlessly whisper, having enough of your restraint left to stop yourself from pushing up from the edge of the pool and running to him.

It’s a dilemma that solves itself, however, as the wine god, himself, comes to you with a small smile. Hoseok, too, wordlessly rids himself of his shoes and sits at the edge of the pool, easing his legs into the water. "I've sent out people around the island," he informs you as gazed down at your obscure reflections in the water. "We’ve managed to capture a few, but we haven’t a clue yet if there are still others left. We'll have to wait here for news till then."

You could only nod, putting faith in his word as he’s always done his best to fulfill them.

"How are you faring?"

The question was something you expected, especially when the concern in his eyes never went away. "Well enough," you try to dismiss with an assuring smile, but a fleeting glance to his solemn face condemns you to admit just a little bit of truth. "Just a bit sore."

You carefully brush your hand to the side from when the soldier had kicked you away. There was a dull ache that spread across your torso, spiking pain if you breathed a little too deeply.

The grimace on your face as you did so doesn't elude the wine god. “I'll call over Yoongi as soon as I can,” he urgently says, about to leave his place beside you if it weren't for the hand you placed on his knee, compelling him to stay. Hoseok does as you wordlessly ask, but the furrow in his brows remain along with fleeting glances at your side.

His company alone is doing more than he can ever realize, the comforting silence doing well to ease your heart. "Thank you," you speak into the silence after a while, eyes soft with gratitude and a little something more. "For coming to my aid," you further elaborate, but soon correct yourself, "for always coming to my aid."

Hoseok's frown softens, a fond look comes with casual shrug. "I always will," he tells you like it's an absolute truth of the world.

The wine god shifts closer towards you and reaches forth, hand so tenderly on your cheek that you lean into it. His thumb rests just below your eyes, readily there to wipe away teardrops should they come. You, however, hold them back as you muster the strength to tell him what had happened. "My father's dead," you tell him with only a fleeting hint of remorse and a momentary shake. "He died pursuing the architect of the labyrinth and his son," you say, "and they were here for his just revenge."

Hoseok's eyes grew dark at the mention of the soldiers and their twisted sense of justice. "You needn't worry," he declares, "I—we won't let that happen."

The correction he makes to himself twitches your lips upward. "I know," you hum, eyes telling him of the confidence you have for his promise. Hoseok has never failed you before, and even if he didn't you wouldn't dare to hold it against him.

You rest your head on his shoulder, his hand falling onto your lap where it intertwines with your fingers. Returning your gaze to the waters, you abide the time by watching the ripples that form at every languid move of your feet. You pretend not to feel his thoughtful gaze, or feel your own butterflies as you relish idly playing with his fingers.

"(Y/N)?"

Your name falls from his lips, soft yet with a hint of hesitance. Sparing him any intimidation your eyes staring into his might bring, you simply squeeze his hand in assurance. "Hm?" you all but hum in response.

There's a beat of silence—one, two.

"Marry me."

In an instant, you lift your head from his shoulder and look at him for any signs of jesting, only to find none. Instead, you see redness spread across his face as he brings his other hand to fiddle at the lobes of his ear. He's nervous.

Gods, what about you then?! Shock doesn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling. Wha—

Hoseok is quick to sense your frenzied emotions, using the stunned silence to his advantage. “I know it’s what you’ve been left here for in the first place, and the memories of what that bastard did pains you, but I want you to marry me out of your own volition,” he practically vomits all his words, but he's fortunate your heart and mind's utter intrigue over all of this has compelled you to clung onto every word. “I want you to know that I crave to have your being next to mine, regardless of what had transpired for it to happen.”

To hear such words in such desperation, you were taken aback. It may have slid into a passing fantasy once, but it never occurred to you that Hoseok would feel this passionately for you. Gods, you didn't think he'd feel anything strong enough to actually ask for your hand!

The wine god forgoes his anxious habits and has both hands seize yours, both in an attempt to ground himself and in a plea for you to heed his confession—to listen should he never have the guts to spill his heart out ever again. “The moment your heart began to open, I all the more knew you were meant for something greater than how you were treated,” he proceeds to attest, “You're beautiful to me—most beautiful—and when I saw your tears, your grief, there was—is—a strong urge in me to bring a smile onto your face—something that told me you were much more radiant with happiness, instead of melancholy.”

The tears stinging your eyes were becoming difficult to fight back. You look at the god before you, still unsure of what to say. Every word strikes your weary heartstrings, and you could hardly breathe with how blissfully painful it is for your cruel demons.

He wants you to be his? The remnants of your old self can't take it, too skeptical to ever give in to the temptation of love.

Hoseok still tightly holds your hands in his, and you swear you could feel his palms sweating. “If you would so please be my wife, (Y/N),” he tells you, almost pleading in a way desperate mortals would. “I will do my very best to take all of your sorrows away.”

The panicked outcries of your old self—that poor, unfortunate runaway princess—falls into the abyss, only to land onto the plush, homely foundation that is the paradise of Hoseok's affections and yours.

This once-stranger, who saved you on that beach, had stayed with you on this damned island when he could've easily carried on his way.

This wine god, who made you feel worthy of love, had not only made you love him, but also love you.

This Hoseok, who you’ve known through months of splendor, loves you with all of his divine being—loves you more than Theseus ever could.

Hoseok watches as your eyes turn glossy and it all the more makes him despair. “Though I may not reign amidst those in Olympus,” his breath staggers, but determination reigns true in his eyes, “I swear that I shall treasure you and provide to you the life a goddess deserves.”

Your eyes widened even more, tears had long been falling down your cheeks. This is all too much for your heart to withstand.

No longer able to bear holding everything in, you inch closer towards him. “Hoseok, you of all people know well that my heart is in pieces,” your breath trembles. "How much it has lost faith in things such as love."

At that moment, his smile falters.

At that moment, he curses Silenus, Yoongi, and himself for ever hoping.

At that moment, he thought it was all for naught.

“But you're a warmth I will forever be grateful for,” you softly declare, caressing his cheek with a smile and shattering his thoughts. “Frankly, I don’t think you deserve someone like me. I am but a mere mortal compared to you—imperfect, broken, and still hurting,” you tell him, "will you still love me in spite of it?"

"I already do," Hoseok affirms it so ardently that it makes you breathlessly chuckle. "I love you with all of my heart. I'll give you anything," he vows, voice falling so soft you could barely hear it, "even Olympus itself."

He will seize a grand seat on Olympus, one way or another. You will lay on the softest of pillows and dress in the prettiest of silks. You will dine full and drink to your heart's content. You will be there with him and his mother in a palace, safe and sound. “That way, no one will come between us,” he asserts, claiming such a future into fruition. “No one will ever harm you again.” 

Fury burned in every word he swore before you, unbecoming of the carefree, grinning man you knew him to be. "There's no need for such lengths," you tell him, eyes soft and endearing as you shake your head at him. You need not the glory of Olympus or the crown of a queen or a goddess. All you could ever ask is to be with him—be loved by him. "This mortal is already yours," you profess, "yours alone."

With a hitched breath, shock befell the wine god—as if your words were so hard to believe, as if he hadn't at all expected you to love him all the same.

Soon, however, his wide eyes are broken by a joyful grin, his senses coming to reality. He wastes no time pulling you into his arms, the motion of which sends a momentary shock of pain through you. The both of you are reminded of your aching side, and Hoseok, immediately frantic, pulls away in a hurry, clumsily sending you both into the cold water.

Damn that soldier for ruining the moment.

Resurfacing with a gasp, you find him with his wet tresses stuck to his mortified face, which compels you to fix your own wet hair. “Are you alright?!” he asks, still oblivious to his ridiculous appearance as he keeps you at an arm's length to look you over.

With the pain long gone, you couldn't help the endearing laugh that escapes your lips as you sweep his hair back from his forehead like you did yours. A soft smile becomes his wordless assurance, which slowly eases the furrow in his brows.

He then saves face by reaching out to you, this time carefully pulling you into his arms. Your legs secure around his waist and Hoseok happily spins the two of you around, the water easily allowing the both of you to float idly. You gleefully laugh once more, and he nuzzles his head into the side of your face, planting a trail of kisses in his wake. "I've been yours," Hoseok's lips tenderly swears this against your skin, pulling away to look at you with eyes twinkling brightly. "I'll always be yours."

In no time, his lips captured yours in a sweet and soft dance that sent the butterflies in your belly soaring. There's a faint, salty taste of the sea on your lips, and the grip he has around your waist tightens in the name of protectively pulling you closer. Your hands find purchase around his neck, taking the time to weave your fingers through his black tresses. Your heart racing even more as your head goes light with bliss. You could hardly think at the moment.

Hoseok, sensing your human need for air, pulls away to let you breathe, forehead resting against yours as you were left gasping. “I meant every word I said,” he then murmurs against your lips. “I’ll make you a goddess, my love.”

Your heart skipped a beat as your mind drifted to an indecipherable haze. You realize now that even without his wine, you were drunk—drunk in his love and devotion.

His fingers dance along your arms until both hands weave themselves with yours, unraveling your hold around his neck. “I will etch my name all over Greece, so much that they can no longer ignore it,” he vows, a certain maddened mischief sparking in his eyes as he raises a brow at you. “Will you join me?”

You realize then that your hands and body have been pinned against something—one of the cave's walls—as your newfound lover awaits your response. A shiver runs down your spine—an indication of thrill.

Mirroring his spirit, you grin and lean close. “Of course, I will, silly,” you muse, playfully rolling your eyes as you lean away just a little inch to look at him with such soft eyes that it makes him melt. "Wherever you go," you sweetly hum, forehead resting against his, "I'll be there, just as you have been with me."

Hoseok's grin is instant, shining brightly like the sun. "What an honor," he blissfully sings, lovingly tugging you into his arms and lips yet again.

In the loom of life, a bright thread fully weaves with a dull one, effectively making it brighter, too, and from now till eternity, they’ll be strands entangled together.

What a blessed woman you are.

𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿 ◁ | END.

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽: @dreamamubarak @unknownwalkingobject @park-jimin-isnt-real

#bts au #bts greek myth au #bts greek mythology au #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts writing #bts fanfic #jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok imagines #jung hoseok fluff #jung hoseok angst #jung hoseok imagine #bts jung hoseok x reader #bts jhope x reader #jhope x reader #jhope imagines

[moirarp]

MOIRA is searching for…

BTS Jimin - any position

When the Gods decided that they had enough of humans being foolish and potentially setting the Earth on fire, the Olympians themselves chose a handful of mortals to bless with their powers. Over time, these mortals got sick of the chores that they were forced to fulfill. As a way to rebel, these blessed children began to use their powers for their own benefit. Thus creating the Mirage and the Vipers.

Note: All postion, Gods and powers are listed in our Carrd.

#kpop roleplay #krp #literate rp #mewe #mewe krp #mewe roleplay #mewe rp #oc roleplay #semi literate rp #au roleplay #greek myth roleplay #mafia rp #wishes #bts #Jimin

[tangerine-fiend]

“But Orpheus had no rival there or anywhere except the gods alone. There was no limit to his power when he played and sang. No one and nothing could resist him.” - Ὀρφεύς καί Εὐρυδίκη

#never not contemplating yoongi/orpheus as a concept #bts #yoongi #mytho #tags #btsedit #bts edit #greek myth au #mythology #greek gods #bangtan #min yoongi #suga #bts suga #crossover #edit #mine #kpop #au #bts au

[jimlingss]

Worshipers of the Sky [1]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 [Finale]

Part of the Worshiper Series

➜ Words: 9.8k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Some Angst, God!AU

➜ Summary: He wonders why the sky doesn't cry for him. After all, he is a sacrifice to a god whose name he never heard of. A sacrifice to a god that everyone had forgotten about. A god who controls weather through emotions.

➜ Warnings: Drinking. Not very violent depictions of being sacrificed.

➜ Notes: Finallllllyyyy!!! I’ve been meaning to share this three-part series for awhile now!! Hope y’all enjoy.

He wonders why the sky doesn’t cry for him.   The man stares up past heavy lids, past his foggy vision, and while he cannot make out details of birds swooping past the horizon, he sees the colour of azure. The skies are clear without a cloud in sight and while his eyes fail him and his ears can barely pick up noise, he can feel the heat of the sun pressing against his skin. It’s sweltering. The sunshine mocks him, letting sweat drip down his face to his hollow cheekbones.   The fire surrounds him, candles flickering and wax dripping on stone. The priests are gathered around, dressed in white robes like ghosts haunting the living. They hold open books in their arms, repeating after one another, tens of voices synced into one. The murmur of mantras and incantations echo into the world, the ritual proceeding without hesitation.   “Hear our prayers.”   An old woman sorrowfully wails out for mercy, his mother crying out for him, consumed in her grief. But her arms are twisted back by neighbours who do not even know her last name.   He accepts his fate. Laid on the alter, sacrifice to the sky, there is no one who can save him.   He was chosen because he was strong. He was chosen because his features captured the attention of too many women and the others were left riveting in their ugly jealousy. He was chosen because he had nothing to fight back with.   And they captured him in the middle of the night, before the moon could rescue him out of pity or put him out of his pathetic misery. They captured him and starved him, deprived him for days so his strength could be lost, so he could truly never fight back, so he could be weak.   He is a sacrifice to a god whose name he never heard of.   A sacrifice to a god that everyone had forgotten about.   “Goddess of the Sky, Goddess of the Heavens, hear our prayers. You, controller of sun and rain, of seasons warm and cold, who others bend their wills towards. You, summoner of the West winds and mist of the North border. Take this sacrifice and grant us with your mercy, we beg of you. Take this sacrifice and sweep away the broken land. We pray, take this sacrifice and let rain fall in droplets so great, it showers the ground green. Goddess of the Great Sky, hear our prayers.”   Taehyung is engulfed in the flames.

There’s a gasp.   “—is this?....pretty….” There’s a voice fading in and out, but Taehyung can’t bring himself to consciousness. He is too tired, too exhausted. His eyelids force themselves to be closed, too heavy to be lifted by his weak strength. But slowly as minutes pass, he can begin to feel several shadows over him, an aura of another being beside him. It smells of flowers, an overwhelming scent of fresh florals. Then he feels his hair moving, a strand pushed out of the way from his forehead.   After that, he feels his cheek being poked...with what feels like a stick.   “His hair reminds me of acorns or walnuts, how fascinating. Ooh, his skin is soft like silk, but he’s kind of dirty. Is he alive? Or is he dead? Should I drag him under the water to clean him?”   “Your Highness!” There are two frantic voices, both belonging to males and they seem further away. “You really mustn’t touch him!”   There’s a childish huff. “Why not?”   Taehyung finally manages to open his eyes.   And you’re staring down at him with your own huge eyes, irises sparkling with curiosity and glimmering in interest. Your hair is like a curtain, draping down and surrounding his face as if there’s only you and him in this tiny space. Your pink lips are a millimeter away, corners quirked up, cupid’s bow dipped down like petals of a flower. Your body looms over his and a dazzling smile spreads into your cheeks as his lashes flutter.   “Oh, hello!” You’re giggling, eyes searching his face. “Good morning! Or afternoon! I don’t really know what time it is. You’re awake and alive though, so that’s good!”   “Your Highness!” Your two servants pull you back and you land on your butt, giving him enough space to breathe. They’re two short men on each of your side, short, barely three feet tall, reminding Taehyung of cherubs he’s seen in an old book once before.   His vision slowly returns to him, mist fading from his pupils and clearing into crystals. He looks up at the sky. It’s sunny but the heat is not suffocating. He's no longer baking underneath the rays. It isn’t difficult to breathe.   Slowly, Taehyung gets up into a seated position and realizes you’re just observing him with knees gathered, watching his every move. He looks around, finding himself on a stone pathway, more of them branching out in different directions. There’s a pond with lily pads and lilac water lilies floating on the surface, a bridge leading out of the gardens, and from a ways off is a white palace, and...clouds…   Lots of clouds that appear as soft as cotton. Where the Earth and land should be, instead he sees white fluffy clouds, some tinged with pink and others blue.   His voice barely croaks out, syllables broken, timbre horse, “Wh..ere.. am-...I?”   “My home!”   “Who—?”   “Oh, sorry! I haven’t introduced myself.” You stand, picking up your long robes in the process. Your garments are made of transparent silk, layers folded on top of each other so skin isn’t seen. The cream colours almost seem to be sewn from moonlight, draping in waterfalls past your feet into a tiny trail that drags wherever you walk, sleeves hanging but waist cinched in.   You’re so radiant, Taehyung isn’t able to look away. He is transfixed by your powerful aura as you stand on your feet, sunlight piercing your backside and casting your shadow over him.   “I am the God of the Sky,” your voice suddenly booms, dropping into a menacing tone, announcing your place in this chaotic universe. “The rains and suns yield to my will, follow to my every whim, sway to my deepest state. I am the Goddess of Weather. ”   The atmosphere settles after a moment, the vibrations of the wind halting.   And you squat down with another grin, voice returning to normal. “And you’re my sacrifice, right? I’ve never had a sacrifice before! Or at least, I don’t remember. So, this is sort of my first time. Sorry.” You give a sheepish smile before turning to your servants fully for guidance. “What am I supposed to do with my sacrifice?”   Hyowon sighs. “Well...a lot of gods either kill them, or make them slaves, or eat them.”   “Ew.” Your nose scrunches upwards. “Eat them?! I don’t want to do any of that.”   Taehyung is confused. He doesn’t understand anything that’s happening. It’s utterly bizarre and his head throbs. “Am I not dead?”   “No.” You frown and quirk your head to the side. “Why would you be?”   He soaks it in. He’s not dead. Somehow.   And without thinking twice, Taehyung lunges forward on wobbly knees and trembling legs towards the pond. You gasp, the servants stumbling forward. Taehyung dips his entire face in the water, drinking like a mad man. He drinks and drinks, the cool water washing down his throat, but then he realizes...his thirst was already quenched.   You ignore your baffled servants, instead stepping forward in curiosity. You dip down again, leaning over to observe the profile of his face when he lifts his head up into the air, gasping for breath. There’s a flicker of silence.   “Do you live in water? Like a fish?” you ask him, but he doesn’t seem to hear you properly.   “I’m not...thirsty…?”   Taehyung never thought there would be a day when his throat wasn’t parched and cracking. He can’t remember a time when he wasn’t desperately aching, becoming psychotic and losing his own humanity to quench his thirst. In the last hours of his life, he even resorted to drinking his own urine.   You frown again, brows furrowed, scrunch appearing between your eyes. You can’t understand why he’s so fixated on odd things like life and death, and thirst. But to your left, Kayee steps forward and begins to explain what you don’t understand. “Here in the heavens, things like starvation and dehydration don't exist. We don’t suffer under the weather, like heat waves or freezing chills. While you may feel cold or warm, you may eat and drink as you’d like, you will never suffer.”   Oh. You get it now.   You follow along, opening your arms and giving him the warmest possible welcome to your home. “You can live here comfortably forever!”   “Forever?”   “Forever!” You giggle before taking his arm and pulling him up. “You’re my sacrifice!”   You pull Taehyung along, ignoring how he’s drenched from head to toe, walking quickly through the gardens and pathways, getting closer to the white palace. Your two servants skedaddle behind, trying to keep up with their short legs and constantly squeaking about their worries. Yet, you pay no mind.   The double doors open as you make it up the porcelain steps. The entry way is grand, curtains made of fabrics so rich in colour that it burns Taehyung’s eyes, stairs spiralling endlessly upwards to more rooms. The sunlight seems to turn gold through the glass windows, painting the rooms in warm hues. But Taehyung doesn’t have time to marvel in the artwork on the walls or the riches displayed in gold and diamonds. He’s pulled down the hallway and you’re throwing more doors open.   “You can pick any room you want!” You shove him through a doorway and he’s in awe. It’s a place where kings would live, not a peasant like him. “Do you like this one? It has a good view of the outside.”   You bring him into another. “Or maybe this one! It has the nicest bed!” And another. “Or maybe this one? It has the biggest wardrobe.” Another. “How about this?” Another. “This one?”   It’s endless.   “I don’t know.”   “Hmmm...then how about this one?” You turn the doorknob, nudging him inside. You turn to him with a bright smile, showing off his official room to him. “It’s my favourite, aside from my own. It looks out into the garden, the light always collects in here, and it’s pretty close to my quarters too, so in case you need my help.”   Taehyung just wants to go home.   //   No one would ever believe him. Even if he somehow made it back home, they would think he’d gone insane if he told them that he went to the Heavens and met a god. They wouldn’t believe it if he revealed that the gods were less of a wise, intimidating figure and instead, foolish and childish. He can’t believe it himself.   And he also wonders if this is what the gods do while their people suffer underneath their rule. Are they so ignorant to their agony that they have the stomach to ravish in such luxuries? It makes him resentful. He is filled with a wrath he didn’t know was physically possible to contain. And he has a hatred especially directed towards you.   Taehyung can’t bear standing in your presence. You, who is less of a god, and more of an immature child. You, who is easily entertained and bizarrely eccentric. If you were of anyone with less status, if you were a peasant as well, you would’ve burned at the stake long ago under the suspicion of being mentally insane.   “Is there something you’d like to eat or do or see?” You spin, running in circles around the man, ready to fulfill each of his wishes.   “I don’t want anything.”   “Oh.”   “Rain.”   Taehyung murmurs it after a delayed moment, realizing there is something he wants after all. But no, it isn’t a want. It’s a need. It’s why the streets are filled with bodies and the living is crying out what’s left of their broken voices. It’s why they’ve resorted to taking the droplets of morning dew, sticking out their cracked tongues and shaking what’s left of the withered plants.   It’s why he was sacrificed in the first place.   “Rain?” You blink, before nodding and humming, moving along. He naturally follows in your steps as you make your way to a pavilion in the gardens. “Right. Rain. See, I’ve been trying to do that for a while now.”   His voice remains cold. “And you can’t?”   Gods are meant to be feared, at least that’s what his mother always told him and how the other villagers have acted, cowering low every time they approached an alter. Yet, he can’t find it in himself to fear or even respect you. And maybe you’ll recognize it and zap him to death. But you don’t seem so affected by his brash behaviour.   “Well, you see, I have a slight...problem.” You try to explain with a tiny laugh. “But I can fix it. I can do it. I know I can!”   You take a seat in front of the pavilion, gesturing to Taehyung to take one beside you and he does. With one inhale, you clap your hands together twice and your two servants that have disappeared in the last half hour come stumbling onto stage with clothes that aren’t their own.   Taehyung is once again completely confused.   “I must go away for the war.” Hyowon puts his hand over his chest, looking away tearfully.   Kayee has a cloth draped and tied on his head, supposedly acting as long hair. “Must you leave me, my dear love? Lest you leave forever, how will I breathe? My breath is already held every tick of the clock you are gone from my embrace.”   “To save the lives of our future children, I must, my love. There is no other way but if we wish to see the sun rise over the horizon, if we wish to hold each other once more, we must fight.”   The two of them scatter around the stage, once in a while having trouble remembering the lines of the play. Yet, they continue to act passionately and you watch them with interest while Taehyung isn’t even the slightest amused.   “NO!”   Kayee is holding dying Hyowon and crying out for him. There are red ribbons on the floor, representing bloodshed and a butter knife near his foot. It’s awfully tragic, a story about lovers who were separated from the war and after being reunited, they are ripped away in the end.   As Hyowon whispers his last words and the curtain metaphorically draws, they lift their heads to observe your expression. Their breaths are hitched, eyes searching your face…   And you burst into laughter.   The sun seems to beat down even more.   Kayee sighs and Hyowon addresses you in distress, “Your Highness! You’re supposed to be crying.”   “How can I?!” If anything, you’re crying because you’re laughing so hard. “The play was absolutely awful. Am I supposed to believe the two of you are lovers? You look like you both want to puke when you get too close to each other.” You’re still in a fit of laughter, wheezing out your words between every other breath. “You need to work on your acting skills.”   Kayee exhales, his tuft of blonde hair revealed when he tugs off his makeshift wig. “What are we supposed to do?”   “I don’t know.” You shrug with a pout, wondering why this was all your responsibility. It’s burdensome to have to force yourself to feel things you don’t truly feel — and it doesn’t seem to be working either way. “Just tell Seokjin not to make the sun rise anymore.”   “He can’t do that!” Hyowon rushes forward in exasperation and hysterics at the mere thought of it. “That’s a sign of the Armageddon! The entire world will crumble.”   You stand to your feet, stretching out your stiff limbs. “Well, then it’s not my problem, is it?”   Hyowon trails after you as you disappear off, having completely forgotten about your new sacrifice. “People are dying!”   “They’re always dying…”   Your other servant, Kayee is left to clean up. He collects the ribbons and butter knife before one of them accidentally steps on it. And as he scrambles, he notices Taehyung is still seated, staring at the space you just occupied. The mischievous little dwarf takes a look around to make sure you’re gone and then he clears his throat, dropping his voice into a soft whisper in case a god is listening.   “Her Highness, Y/N, controls the weather through her emotions.”   Taehyung’s brows furrow. “Emotions?”   No one’s told him this before. No book, story or old legend has this little, yet crucial detail.   “When she is happy, the sun shines. When she is sad, rain falls.”

Your existence has remained the same for the past forty years. It’s fallen into a consistent pattern, of wandering around your home and the gardens, of being entertained by your two servants who are more like two foolish jesters than acting as wise guides. Once in a while you get a visitor but it’s never been a visitor like this before….   Kim Taehyung is an interesting man. Well, you’re not sure if he’s interesting or not. You haven’t really met another human, at least that you can remember. You’ve only heard about them through Hyowon and Kayee’s stories or plays. Humans seem really fascinating and fun to be around, always so chaotic and fickle that it keeps you on your toes.   But for some reason, this human doesn’t seem to be the case.   “Do you like it?”   You’re watching him from across the table. Kim Taehyung has his brown eyes downcasted onto the plate. None of you need to eat but it can be fun to taste things. Yet, he’s just poking the slab of meat with his silver fork without taking a single bite. “It’s fine.”   “Kayee isn’t all that good at cooking. Hyowon’s even worse. Do you want something different?”   “It’s fine.”   One of the first things you discover about humans from observing Taehyung is how puzzling they are.   “I have something to show you!” You barge into his room, picking up his arm and dragging him along one afternoon. It doesn’t take time to show him the gardens that you’ve improved. There’s never been more flowers blooming in the bushes and beds, roses spilling in ruby petals, blossoms cascade from the treetops, a soft wind of pink wrapping around the prospering gardens.   It’s flourishing in ways you’ve never seen before — though the edges of the petals are already beginning to wither from the sun’s heat.   “What do you think?” You grin, opening your arms to welcome him to such a lovely place.   But he only shrugs, face still blank. “It’s good.”   You can’t figure him out at all.   On another morning, after Taehyung pokes his breakfast without taking more than two bites, you take him upstairs, down the twisting hall before pushing the double doors open. It took a bit more time than you anticipated but the library is finally complete. The bookcases go all the way up to the ceiling, hundreds of shelves filled with tales and books that any breathing creature would enjoy.   “What do you think?” You have your hands behind your back, leaning over to watch his face.   Taehyung tilts his head. His eyes scan the magnificent library. Scholars would die to be in his place. There must be thousands of novels in here. Yet, his facial features don’t show anything. There is no indication that he feels anything. “It’s nice.”   He’s strange.   “I don’t get it.” You stomp your feet childishly against the tiled floor. Grey clouds fill the sky, shielding away from the sunlight, and winds begin to pick up as you huff out, “I’ve tried everything!”   Kayee hums, fanning you with a leaf to keep your tempers down. “I have no more ideas.”   Hyowon has his hands folded in front of him, attempting to appeal to you. “Just let him get adjusted, Your Highness. This must be a big change for him. He isn’t used to it yet, but he’ll get better with time.”   “Time?”   The dark haired dwarf nods. “We should focus on getting rain.”   “But I can’t be focused on it if I’m thinking about this.” You cross your arms, sitting back in your large armchair that’s reminiscent to a throne. “I just don’t get it…”   And you really don’t.   You don’t know how to make Taehyung happy.   All you want is to have your new companion to be as happy as you are. But every time you see him walking around, he’s moping. Every time you talk to him, he gives brief answers. Every time you take him to a new place, give him the best food you can make, he’s always, always sad. All the time, he’s….   Sad.   You wish you could trade your emotions with him. Everything could be solved if you did.   “Knock, knock,” you announce loudly as you push open the door, not bothering to match the action to the words. One look around the bedroom and you find the man laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with the artwork of stars. “Am I disrupting something, human? I didn’t mean to barge in.”   Taehyung sits up, not being able to sleep anyways. “No.”   When he looks at you, you take it as an invitation to step into his room, but still with careful strides to not scare him away. You’re still not sure how delicate his species is. You wouldn’t want him to suddenly combust into flames. “Do you like it here? Is everything suited to your tastes?”   He looks towards the ground, a mutter leaving his hoarse throat, “it’s fine.”   “I see. Well...that one request you had...rain...I’m working on that, so be at ease, human man!” You flash him a thumbs up as well as a big smile to ease him, but he doesn’t say anything. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”   “I—”   Something catches in his throat. He tries to swallow it down. It doesn’t work.   And then he bursts into tears.   You immediately freeze up, put on alert and shocked at the change of his emotion. He’s crying and weeping into his hands, droplets washing down his cheeks, his golden skin, off his chin and onto the cream bed sheets. “Are you okay?!” You take a step forward, hands up, afraid you’ve broken him on accident with your words. Was that even possible?! “Human?”   “I- wa...nt to g..o home.” Taehyung whimpers desperately and pathetically while feeling humiliated at how he’s crying into his hands like this. He didn’t mean to but it seems like the things brewing inside him has finally erupted without warrant. “I want to go home.”   “Oh.”   His wish sinks in. Something uncomfortable shifts inside you, but you push it away. “I can do that for you.”   For the first time, his eyes widen and he looks directly into your pupils, hope glimmering in his irises instead of confusion and sadness. “What?”   “You can go home if you want.” A smile tugs across your face, spreading into your cheeks. “I’ll make it happen. You know who I am, right? I am the Goddess of the Sky.”   //   “What do you mean he can’t go back home?!”   The frustrated whisper isn’t so quiet. It doesn’t help that there’s a crackle of lightning in the distance where the dark clouds have accumulated, though still no signs of rain. Taehyung takes notice and he stops chatting with Kayee from a little ways off.   For the first time there’s a smile on his face and you’re about to ruin it. “He’s not dead.”   “Technically, he’s not,” Hyowon agrees.   “So, he can go back to the land of living!” You throw your arms into the air. “And he’s my sacrifice. I get to decide what I want to do with him, so I want to return him.”   “No. Your Highness, it doesn’t work that way. He might not be dead but his people think he is.” The human approaches without you noticing and Hyowon continues on his tangent, in disbelief that you would even come up with such an idea. “They think he is dead. Now imagine if he were to come prancing back. They would burn him at the stake! It is part of human practice.”   Your brows furrow so hard it hurts. “Why would they burn him?”   “Because they would think he is alive from witchcraft.”   You scoff, almost laughing at how ridiculous it is. “Don’t be absurd. I’ll tell them it isn’t.”   The short dark-haired dwarf is trying his best to reason with you. “You’re going to just appear and tell them?”   “Yes…?” You don’t get what’s so difficult to understand. “I’ll explain to them what’s going on and that I’ve returned their sacrifice. Problem solved.”   “The council won’t like that! You know the rules — you can’t get involved with humans. Minimal involvement!”   “This is ridiculous!” You stomp your feet in indignation like a petulant child. But then you wonder why you’re even standing here arguing. “You’re being disrespectful, Hyowon. What I say goes! Who are you to stop me?! Do you know who I am?!”   He trembles and even Kayee is cowering low. Hyowon is afraid he’s going to get zapped but he’s always been more stubborn than his friend and stronger with his words. Out of the two of them, someone has to stop you. “He can’t go back home and even if he does, his family will be endangered. The others will think they’re sick or crazy.”   Taehyung, watching the exchange, realizes he’s right.   The villagers would believe he’s a ghost or an evil entity that arose from the dead and that he’s returned to enact revenge. Even if he stayed hidden with his mother, he can’t run the risk if the secret slipped out and the others thought she had gone mad. They’d burn his mother and he’s not sure if he can even stomach the thought of it.   “No, they won’t!”   He shakes his head. “You do not understand human behaviour.”   “Do not tell me what I do and do not understand.” Suddenly, your voice rumbles. Black clouds have gathered on the horizon, not letting others know if it is day or night. The winds begin to pick up speed, whistling through the cracks of the walls and windows. The atmosphere seems to vibrate. “You are a mere servant! You are meant to be a wise voice of reason and my guidance, but you do not have authority over me! Remember your place!”   Before destruction and chaos can ensue, Taehyung draws your attention away with a single statement befalling from his lips, from his deep timbre. “I changed my mind.”   “What?” A single brow raises and you turn to him.   “I don’t want to go back.” There’s no place for him to go. “I’ll stay.”   “You…” Your eyes are narrowed in on the human. It’s not like you want him to leave, but more so than your selfish wishes, you want to grant his. Yet, all the trouble you’ve come to…“This was your biggest desire. You don’t want it anymore?” Your tone is cold, a stark difference to your usual personality and he is compelled to lower his head. “How fickle are humans?”   “I’m sorry.”   One stare at the tall man and you huff out, spinning around to leave.   The two dwarfs stay where they are and Taehyung watches as your robes swish, cutting into the air before you’ve disappeared.   //   You never show up for dinner.   Taehyung doesn’t feel like eating much either but he realizes how much trouble Kayee, and sometimes Hyowon, goes through to make food for him. So, he takes a seat at the grand dining table and invites the two others to sit with him.   When he takes a bite and hums at the taste, Kayee smiles widely. It’s still bizarre for him to eat when he doesn’t need to, especially when most of his life having leftovers and scraping the bottom of pots for all three meals was a privilege. But Taehyung still keeps taking bites to appease both servants.   “I’m sorry.”   “Don’t be.” Hyowon turns a page in his book, seated across from Taehyung and beside Kayee who’s just solely watching Taehyung eat. “Her Highness is hot-headed sometimes, but she has good intentions. She already apologized to me and you won’t find many gods who do that to their lowly servants.”   “I….didn’t realize how complicated everything was.” From the prospect of him returning home to your own powers. It still hasn’t rained and the people are dying beneath him, but he notices your hard effort, even though your emotions are very erratic.   “You’ll catch on quickly, don’t worry.” Kayee’s cheeks are plump and reddened, happy to see Taehyung’s eating rather well. His elbows are propped on the table, chin in his hand. “But yes, things are a lot more complicated than it may seem.”   “I hope you keep your patience with Her Highness.” Hyowon raises his head from the book. “She’s never had a sacrifice before.”   “At least not in this lifetime,” the blonde adds on.   Taehyung doesn’t understand. “What do you mean?”   “She’s reborn every few hundred years. All the gods have their own timespan and they have their own cycles. No one exists forever. It’s like this for everyone...well, with only a few exceptions.”   Kayee leans in to whisper, scared you might hear, “so, she doesn’t know much, forgive her.” You’re quite childish and immature, nothing like the frightening and wise gods Taehyung’s heard about. “But Y/N, Her Highness, has a good will, believe me. She is naive, but kind.”   Hyowon agrees. “She is one of the kindest gods out there. Not many would be so merciful or worried about the Earth and yet, the humans have forgotten about her.” He sighs, closing his book and putting it aside once and for all.   “Still doesn’t stop her from being interested in humans.” Kayee laughs and gets even closer like he’s exchanging a deep secret. He even cups a hand around his mouth. “She made us do so much research about your species. She’s really excited to have you around.”   “You won’t believe the amount of stories and plays we have to reenact.” Hyowon goes to rub at his temples, the short man who momentarily seems more like a grandfather and it’s a funny sight since he isn’t that much taller than the height of the table. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m a helper, an actor, or a clown.”   “At least you can remember your lines,” Kayee jests with his friend. “She zapped me twice when I forgot the lines right during the climax of the story.”   Hyowon barks out a laugh at the reminder and sits back, shifting to stare at Taehyung. The smaller man’s eyes soften as if asking for him to treat you with care. “I think humans are interesting too. When you ask a human what their purpose in life is, they often respond it is to be happy. Humans are so obsessed with this idea of happiness and contentment, and yet...when Her Highness is happy, she destroys.”   “She can never have the constant happiness that you oh-so crave.” The corner of Hyowon’s lips quirk upwards when Taehyung stares back at him, listening to what he has to say. ��Take a look at the world right now. That’s a result of her happiness.”   //   It’s a cloudy night, one where the moon has no chance of peeking through. The milky wash cannot slip through the corners or pierce through the thick grey. There’s a slight chill to the wind, carding through his brunette strands and kissing his cheeks until it’s blooming into a pink hue. If it’s possible...the air feels lonely.   “Oh. Human.” Your eyes soften when the land on him and your feet shuffle to a stop, hands still folded behind your back. “Are you going somewhere?”   “No, not really.” He notices that Kayee and Hyowon aren’t following you, absent from your side. Taehyung wonders if in this entire place, there’s only the three of you for decades upon decades. “Are you?”   “No. There’s no place in particular.” You offer a gentle smile. “Would you like to join me?”   He responds after a beat of consideration. “Okay.”   You walk off and when he doesn’t follow, you follow his gaze to where your feet are. “Don’t worry, we can stay off the path. It looks like clouds but you won’t fall through.” Taehyung nods and trails after you. There isn’t any land or ground here except in the flower beds, but where he walks, it’s a sort of soft substance. Underneath his feet, the cloudy mist feels like a cotton field.   The human man accompanies you, synchronizing his steps until they sound as one. Aside from the cold breeze whistling in the air, there is a silence between you both. You break it after mustering courage. “I’m sorry, Kim Taehyung. I cannot fulfill any of your wishes.”   “It isn’t your fault,” he murmurs.   “I am a useless god. I cannot return you to your home. I cannot bring rain to the world.” You are beyond frustrated, defeated, and you’ve always despised this feeling of hopelessness. “You were sacrificed to a powerless god. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me.”   “I do,” Taehyung quietly admits, “I do hate you. But I can understand.”   You scoff. “How could you understand?”   “You’re right, maybe not fully.” He doesn’t know what it feels like to have abilities and be unable to utilize them. He won’t lie and say he knows what that uselessness feels like, but his pity still doesn’t stop him from emotions of resentment. “I try to but it’s difficult. It’s hard not to hate you when people are suffering and you’re here...living in comfort without even knowing what suffering is.”   “People are always suffering.” You frown, stopping to look at him. “They are always hurting and begging to be saved. It never stops. I give rain tomorrow and the next day, you all plead for sunshine.”   “We beg because there is nothing else to do.” He doesn’t want to fight. He doesn’t even agree with the way villagers resort to rituals, sacrifices, worshiping gods who might not even exist. Yet, he wants you to try and see what he sees, know what he knows. “Children die hungry. They starve because they have nothing to eat. They have to pick out bugs and grass and always cry out how hungry they are.”   He’s shaking, unable to contain his grief, crying out as you watch, “Nothing will grow on the land. All the water has dried up. The drought...the famine…”   You gaze into the man’s umber irises, trying to work out the puzzle pieces you cannot comprehend. “And they will all live again.”   “No.” Taehyung frowns. “They don’t.”   “Don’t try to fool me,” you snap at him in impatience. “We all die and live again. It’s a cycle.”   “For you it is. But not for us.” He shakes his head and watches as your expression unravels into something he cannot read. “Once we die, it’s the end. Our soul goes into the underworld.”   “Do you know what it means to lie to a god?”   “I am not lying,” he promises, gazing back into your eyes without once wavering. “Death is the end.”   Your brows furrow and you turn away, still unable to wrap your mind around it. You don’t understand what he’s trying to tell you, what it exactly means to be the end. You can’t imagine what it means for something to just simply...end, to not open your eyes and see and feel again, if the end means darkness or an absence of everything, or of something beyond the body.   “We don’t live again. Not like you. Once we die, our souls are brought to the underworld and if we die suffering, for eternity we feel that suffering.” It’s how the legend reads it, how he’s taught and what his mother told him. Whether Taehyung believes it or not is a different story. “It’s the end.”   He watches you.   And then he feels something cold on his nose.   Taehyung flinches and then something drops on the top of his head, as cold as the winter.   There’s a sound of something dripping.   At first, it’s a single drop and then another, another, before turning into a soft pitter-patter. It hits against the stone path, the pavilion, the flower beds, the roof of the garden house and against the castle ceilings in the distance. It’s gentle, like someone who is beginning to cry.   Then within a few seconds, it morphs into a sleet of rain. It’s violent. It pelts against the windows. It drums horribly. It’s drowning. It pours down from the sky of black.   Taehyung lifts his head at the endless horizon, welcoming and embracing the cold droplets on his face.   Finally, it’s raining.   In front of him, you crumble to your knees in sobs.

It rains.   And it rains for days on end.   It rains for a full week and Taehyung begins to feel something akin to guilt. He hasn’t seen you at all, not for a stroll around the gardens, not running around the castle hallways or even in any room.   Kayee and Hyowon are initially excited, pulling out raincoats and umbrellas from the closet. But after they realize how long the rainfall is going on for and how excessive it is, they begin to get worried. The last thing the planet needs after a drought is a flood. So, they rush from place to place, trying to tend to your needs. You cannot die, but you can get ill and that would make the weather even more erratic.   Apparently, you’ve sealed yourself in at the garden house, not opening the door for anyone.   And Taehyung’s guilt overwhelms him.   “Um…” He raps his knuckles against the wooden frame of the paper door. When there’s no answer, he puts down the tray, still unsure how to address you. ‘Your Highness’ sounds odd on his tongue, like he’s purposely putting distance from you, and the title ‘Goddess of the Sky’ was even worse. “Y/N?”   The door immediately slides open and Taehyung is taken back. Your eyes are swollen beyond belief, like a swarm of mosquitoes and bees had found its target on your eyelids. It’s to the point where you can barely open them and saltwater is still spilling down your cheeks. You sniffle once before addressing him in a hoarse voice, “Do you know how rude it is to address a god directly by their name?”   Taehyung holds up the tray with a lopsided smile. “I made you soup?”   “Soup?” You sit back, blankets and futon on the straw mat floor gathered around your body and you gesture with your hand for him to come in. Your sleeve raises to wipe your face and you tilt your head to the side, eyes pinpointed on the bowl presented in front of you. “Human soup?”   “Uh….not human soup, but soup made by a human. It’s my mom’s recipe.” He smiles and nudges it closer. “She used to give it to me when I wasn’t feeling well.”   “Oh.” You reach for the bowl, raising it in your hand before dipping in the spoon and taking a sip. Your eyes widen instantly and you nod in approval. “It’s good!”   It’s a simple dish, nothing like the lavish things he’s eaten here and he was afraid you’d throw it in his face and break his skull, but he’s relieved that it suits your tastes. “I’m glad.”   The rain seems to calm down. At least he can see a bit more of the outside now instead of the rainfall acting as a grey curtain. And as it becomes less heavy, Taehyung plays with the hem of his cotton shirt. “It’s not good to cry so much. You could get dehydrated.”   “I can’t get dehydrated,” you remind him with a tiny smile pulling at your lips. “But I am tired.” You place the spoon down before confessing what’s occupied your mind for the past sleepless nights. “I’ve considered what you’ve said. It really...really sucks to just die off like that.”   “Yeah…” He laughs stiffly, not sure what to say in response to that.   “I’m sorry for being so ignorant.”   “I thought gods don’t apologize.” Taehyung takes the leap to tease you, still finding it strange with how much you say sorry. All the priests and priestesses that he knows never even said a word of an apology and yet you’re spilling them left and right.   “Maybe they don’t,” you admit before pouting and adding on an afterthought, “I envy humans, Taehyung.”   “Why?”   “Because it sucks that you die and there’s nothing. But when you die, your soul gets released. It’s the end.” You stare out the open door to the rain and the sky that still cries from your own sadness. It cries for the people who screamed and were not heard, for those who had no redemption before their demise, whose beliefs in the heavens were proven futile. Still, there’s another reason for your grief. “I’m tapped here. No matter how much time passes, I’ll be reborn again and again. Goddess of the Skies.”   Taehyung stares at you.   He gazes for a second too long and you shrug, muttering, “I guess it’s not as bad as an eternity of suffering though…..” You try to laugh but it becomes a few broken wails before you decide to just slurp down the soup unsophisticated to choke down your sobs that won’t seem to stop.   The human man with a ruffled cloud of brunette hair watches you with his knees gathered together. He’s slightly amused with how much you cry in between your sentences and how you’re stuffing soup into your cheeks in an attempt to cry less.   “It’s not really that bad,” he tries to appease your weeping. “Some people deserve to suffer for eternity. Humans are pretty greedy and evil. You’re not wrong. They’re selfish. I once witnessed a man ripping bread away from a child’s hands to eat it instead.”   “Oh gods, that’s horrible!”   Your crying worsens until the screeches and wails leaving your broken throat, lamenting as if a family member just died. It thunders outside, lightning striking across the horizon, a boom ricocheting throughout the universe. And Taehyung freezes up, not meaning to make it worse. He decides it’s a better idea to just stop talking about how horrible humanity is. “Do you like the soup?”   “Oh...yes.” Your attention is taken by his new question and you glance down, remembering it again and gripping it tightly with both hands. You slurp the rest of it, spoon abandoned on the wooden tray. “It’s better than Kayee. You should just be the permanent cook.”   “And take away his only job?” He grins, a boxy shape plastered across his face. “He would cry thinking he’s been made a permanent clown now.”   Finally, you crack a smile. Taehyung leans down and closer, trying to catch a better glimpse of it. He kind of misses your bright smiles that seem to radiate the sunlight itself. “Have they been tattling on me to you?”   “No, can’t say they had.” His lips are pouted but the corners of his mouth are still tugging upwards. Mischief twinkles in his eyes and he gives a slight shrug. “All I know is that you once zapped Kayee for forgetting his lines and they feel more like actors and jesters than your wise helpers.”   “Well, they’re terrible actors. You’ve seen their acting. I swear they ruin all the plays and stories.” A thought ignites inside your mind and you gasp, scrambling forward to grab Taehyung’s hand within yours. He’s taken back, the porcelain bowl still clattering with how you pushed it aside and he leans back, not sure why you’ve closed the proximity, only leaving three or four inches away from your bodies. “Do you act?!”   Your eyes are sparkling with intensity and he gulps, pressured to answer ‘yes’. But he fights the instinct and tells the truth instead. “No.”   Taehyung hears you mutter a curse and you let go of him, now sulking like a child...which is really your natural state and he doesn’t even mind. He’s happy to see you’ve resorted back to normal instead of wallowing in sadness and accidentally flooding the entire world and killing thousands.   “If your people knew what was good for them, they ought to offer sacrifices of professional actors. Like an entire cast of people who know how to put on a good show.” You cross your arms and by the look on his face, you giggle. “I’m joking! I’m joking!”   He really doubts that. “I can’t act, but I can tell you stories. Stories you probably never heard about.”   “Hmm, looks like you’re a good sacrifice after all.” You stroke your chin in thought. “Guess I’ll keep you around instead of eating you.”   You bite the air, putting your hands up and pretending to be a bear. Taehyung’s face drains of colour.   You laugh again, having too much fun with the human. “I’m joking! Can’t you tell?!”   The sun begins to shine. The last droplets fall to nowhere, sky clearing. The clouds are ripped apart into streams of rainbows. The grey fades away in favour for the hues of warm colour painting across the horizon.

“You know what would be a good idea?” You’re strolling along, looking at all the flowers that are trying to sprout. They had to be re-planted since they were washed away by the rain. Your garden is an utter mess but with time, it’ll be better...hopefully. “If I tried to make a hurricane at the same time as an earthquake.”   “No, no! That would be a terrible idea!” Hyowon is hysterical, whipping himself over as the statement comes tumbling out.   “Both at the same time?” Taehyung asks, the two of you ignoring the shorter man.   “I apparently did it twice before,” you brag to the human. “Back in the day. During the war. Apparently, it made for really scary effects.”   “Ooh, sounds scary.”   Hyowon slaps a hand over his forehead, baffled to no end and you both laugh. In the next few moments, Kayee comes scattering along. “Your Highness—”   “Why are you speaking to me?” You turn up your nose, refusing to look down at your poor servant. “I’m still punishing you for not having the next play ready.”   “It’s not that—”   “Not listening.” Instead of cupping your hands over your ears, you shift to Taehyung, continuing the conversation with another thought. “You know, you got an acting face.”   “An acting face?” His brows lift, not sure if it’s a compliment or not.   “Yeah. You should try it sometime.”   The human curtseys in a playful manner. “I’d rather not risk getting zapped by milady.”   “Your Highness—” Kayee is jumping up and down in front of you, trying to get your attention, but to no avail. It’s a bit difficult to ignore him when he’s trying so hard, but once you’ve made your decision to give the cold shoulder, you don’t give up so easily either.   Still, you feel a bit of irritation. “At this rate, I’m going to zap everyone.”   “You better not zap me.” There’s a sweet, soft voice that has your neck swiveling so fast, you nearly sprain a muscle. Someone approaches from over the bridge, arms behind their back, nonchalantly enjoying the scenery. His honey hair is swept back, matching the embroidered gold swirls of his loose black robes that hang off his frame, luxurious as if he is heir to an entire kingdom. “And I don’t think Jungkook enjoys it when you control his powers.”   “Well, well, well, look who we have here.” You cross your arms, the side of your mouth tugging and your eyes twinkle like his. “Still showing up here without an invitation, huh? Would’ve been polite if you warned me about coming.”   You flash a pointed look to Kayee who flinches and sighs in defeat, not even bothering to defend himself and explain that this was what he was trying to tell you.   “Warn you?” He takes offense. “And have you blocking the entrance to this place? Not gonna risk my chances.”   “Alright, alright.” You nod before signaling him over with your hands, arms opening wide. “Get over here.”   “No.”   “Jimin, it’s customary.”   “Says who?”   “Says me.” And what that, you close up the distance between the pair of you and you throw your arms around his bigger frame, giving a good old squeeze to which he groans at. It’s a bear hug, one where you smush your cheek against his clothes and you tilt him from side to side, forcing him to sway with you, even as he’s leaning back away from your touch like it disgusts him.   Taehyung leans over to Hyowon, watching both your antics. “Who is he?”   Then, the stranger has his eyes shooting open, boring into the human. An eerie grin spreads across his face. “Is that your new pet?”   You let him go, tilting your head to the side. “What’s a pet?”   “An idiot like always,” Jimin exhales and pushes you aside, walking towards Taehyung with three large strides, much too eager even when Taehyung’s used to your enthusiasm. His voice lowers and seems to boom as he introduces himself, “I am the God of Wine. God of Fertility. God of Celebration. The madness of pleasure and drunkenness is bounded to my will. Speak my name and you will know nothing less. Bow to me!”   You watch. Jimin waits. Taehyung doesn’t move.   Finally, the god who was anticipating the human to either gasp or fall onto his knees in awe, gives up and spins towards you. He hitches a thumb towards Taehyung. “He’s a quiet one, isn’t he?”   “Don’t scare him!” The two of you talk about him like he’s not just standing right here. “It just takes a bit of time for him to adjust to new changes.”   “If you wanted someone to indulge in your lustful desires, I could’ve just given you someone more...responsive.” Jimin wiggles his eyebrows, finding it amusing someone like you would be looking for a concubine or to build a harem. He’d expect that from Seokjin, but not you.   “Gods.” Your face begins to heat up and you stomp your foot. “That’s not it! He’s my friend.”   “You know, I hate the council as much as you do, but you’re getting really bold.” Jimin looks at you with admiration. “Stepping on their toes, bending the rules, not worried about the consequences, it’s amazing, really. Stupidly, stupidly amazing.”   You sigh. “I’m not trying to make them angry.”   “Aren’t we all?” He smiles and then inhales a breath, taking a look at your human and your two servants before motioning to you. “Shall we speak privately?”   //   After dismissing Taehyung and your two servants, you and Jimin stroll along the gardens towards the patio of the garden house. It’s been a long time since you’ve spoken to your old friend and the sun shining brightly shows how pleasing you find the walk. “How did you hear about him?”   “News travels fast.” Jimin shrugs. “Speaking of which, thanks for finally making it rain. Jungkook was really getting pissed there.”   The corner of your mouth turns. “When is he not angry with me?”   “That’s true.” He agrees and the both of you take a seat across from each other on the patio with a small table in between. You watch as he becomes comfortable, enjoying how you’ve decorated the place with flowers blooming from their boxes and a slight breeze brushing through the leaves of the trees. Jimin muses that you maintain it well with the harsh and erratic weather, especially considering you aren’t a Goddess of Spring or florals or anything of that sort….a thought that sends a slight lump to his throat.   “So, what’s the real reason why you’re here?”   “Well…” He pulls out a bottle of wine from his bag and places it on the table with two glasses.   “Of course.” There’s never just conversations with Jimin. Wherever he goes, drinks always follow, but it’s not like you mind it.   “And this,” he says, pulling the last item from his bag and handing you a red envelope. It’s decorated with golden patterns, much like his robes, but it carries the council’s seal.   You admire the dragon symbol of the black seal, turning it over in your hands despite there having no written words on the outside. “What is it?”   “Take a look.”   It’s easy to break the seal and the folded parchment inside slips out. You open it, reading carefully before you realize what it is. It’s an invitation. A celebration to mark a century of the war ending, one century of peace kept. And your name is written right on it. “I’m...invited?”   “I managed to convince them. Plus, it seems they were pretty happy when you finally made it rain, so that helped.” He’s quiet and opens the bottle of wine before pouring you both drinks. The ruby liquid sloshes in the glass and after it’s filled right to the edge, he downs his in one go. In the meanwhile, you’re still staring at the invitation, unable to believe it’s actually in your hands. “You should come,” he says. “You haven’t been to one since like….two lifetimes ago.”   “I will.” You put it aside, taking the drinking and consuming it. It burns your throat and you wince, but the bitter taste is welcome.   Jimin grins at your reaction and pours another drink the moment your glass is put down again.   “You should be careful with him,” he comments nonchalantly and you know what it’s in reference to. The way he says it isn’t a threat, but of concern.   “I know. I try not to talk too loudly around him. I’m scared he might get startled to death.”   “You’re an idiot—” He utters it point-blank and with brutal honesty. Before you can even be offended and throw an insult, Jimin continues, “humans aren’t fragile as you think they are. Dumb and stupid, yes. But you can chuck them a few miles and they’ll live...most likely.”   “This is why they’ve confiscated all your sacrifices.” There’s a bite to your words, but not quite full of malice. Your eyes narrow in on him. “When was the last time you even had a sacrifice?”   “Okay, for the record, they only confiscated my sacrifices for two decades and only because I started dropping the humans from the Heavens.” Jimin begins laughing in between his words and you groan at the horrific memory, but he continues, “—birds, I’m telling you! They were like birds! It was so funny, you should’ve seen it! They wanted rain?! I made it rain, human.”   “You’re sick in the head.” You point towards his temple with your drink. “You should go consult Irene with that and get it fixed if it’s still possible.”   “They didn’t die,” he defends himself but to no avail. “I saved them before they dropped to the ground…to throw them again.”   In the middle of his hysterics, folding over to giggle at the thought of throwing humans like a child with rocks, you find the man more and more distasteful. “And this is why you don’t have any more sacrifices.”   “It’s still better than how Yoongi treats his sacrifices,” Jimin notes but it doesn’t help his own case at all. After he calms down from his boisterous, squeaky laughter, he takes another drink. “I’m being serious though. If you want to keep that human around, you should be careful.”   “I know.”   If there’s one thing that’s known, it’s that gods have always had a hatred for humans. And while Jimin doesn’t particularly detest them or think of them as cockroaches to be stepped on, he’s relatively apathetic. You, on the other hand, are a different story all together. While you find fascination with humans, to the others it’s as if you’re playing with your own garbage or fiddling with diseased rodents.   “Why do we ignore them so much?” You take another drink, this time to distract you from the overwhelming sadness you begin to feel for the humans that beg, plead, and cry only to be ignored and stepped on. “Did you know how much they suffer?”   “The cause of their suffering is themselves,” he says with a blank expression. “They destroy everything they’re given and create chaos.”   You shake your head, eyes downcast. “Not all of them.”   Jimin stares at the horizon where clouds begin to gather. “You feel too much.”   “Am I not supposed to?”   “It’s foolish to care about things that don’t care about you.” He clinks his glass with yours, the ruby wine nearly slipping over the edge from the movement. “It will bring you more harm than good. In the end, you will be in the most pain. And especially for you...they don’t even remember who you are.”   No words spill off your tongue.   Instead, a droplet descends from the sky. Pitter-pattering — it rains.   Jimin watches as you cry.

Kim Taehyung is transfixed.   He’s captivated and enchanted like none other.   “Why are you staring?” You quirk your head to one side, brows furrowing before you stand straight with a prideful smile. “Is it because you’ve finally realized what a powerful goddess I am? Are you hoping I will forgive you for all the disrespect you’ve shown me?”   The human keeps staring at you, gazing, and then his finger lifts to point at the corner of your mouth. “You have food on your face.”   You’re startled, gasping in embarrassment and he simply turns, striding away. But as Taehyung walks, there’s a smile spreading into his cheeks.   It’s beautiful. When tears drip off your lashes and down your face, and the rain pours, he can’t tell if they are droplets from the sky or if they’re you’re soft sobs. Yet, Taehyung finds beauty within the way the raindrops thump against the rooftops in a constant rhythm, comforting during the nights he’s able to find sleep.   When you laugh, the sun seems to shine brighter until it’s blinding. The illuminating beams golden in colour and intensify, painting the universe in warmer hues. And Taehyung can never seem to look away.

#bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #bts scenario #taehyung scenario #TAEHYUNG AS OC'S SACRFICE AND OC IS A REALLY COOL BUT CHILDISH GOD #A KIND OF MYTHOLOGY AU BUT NOT REALLY #JIMLINGSS VERSION OF GREEK AND ROMAN MYTHOLOGY MIXED TOGETHER AND WITH A FUCK TON OF OTHER SHIT THAT DOESNT HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH MYTHS

[writerrawwrrr]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi | Suga Characters: Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi | Suga, Kim Namjoon | RM Additional Tags: Inspired by The Fall of Icarus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Father-Son Relationship, Secret Relationship, Platonic Relationships, Character Development, Namjoon as Dedalus, Jungkook as Icarus, Yoongi as Apollo, Jeon Jungkook centric Summary:

Fly higher. Higher, my love. Don't swim. Let your father think you drowned. I'm going to save you, you know I couldn't live without you, Jeongguk.

#yoonkook #greek myth au #secret relationship #min yoongi #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #bts fic