#but it took wayyy longer than meant to when drawing this

[graveilexxy]

[bts-love-sweat-tears]

The one ring to bind them all (or just a solitary, cranky demon)

Title: The one ring to bind them all (or just a solitary, cranky demon)

Pairing: Yoongi X Reader

Type: demon!au, arranged marriage!au, I guess fluff? It’s pretty gothic though. Also, I’m imagining a medieval town of sorts.

Rating: PG-13 ?

Word Count: 2,352

Prompt inspiration: This post, this moodboard, this ring (swear I’m not sponsored by anyone- I wish though. Could use the money lol).

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble like all of the others and just spiraled out of control. Seriously, when did I become such a weirdo? I like hybrid, demon, supernatural, werewolf, vampire, and magic au’s WAYYY too much.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 

It was common sense that one should stay away from demons, even if one wasn’t the child of a pastor. It was widely known that they existed, but it was said that they were cold to the touch, and had absolutely nothing where their hearts should be. That they could eat young children and livestock alike in one fell swoop. They had no feelings and showed no mercy, based on the rumors. How the townspeople had deduced this, you couldn’t be entirely sure. But your father always said that gossip was a sin, and that as his child you had to set an example for the rest of the congregation. So you hadn’t listened in whenever the topic of demons came up, though you were burning with curiosity.

So it was unclear how the current situation had come to be. You looked at the boy with icy locks sitting on your bed across from you. 

It had all started innocently enough. Despite the fact that your father disapproved of anything too ostentatious, and frequently criticized the flippant materialism of your friends, it wasn’t as though he could forbid you from spending time with them. And spending time with them meant going shopping, though mostly window-shopping for you. As you ambled down the main thoroughfare in the town, you paused as you noticed a shop you had never seen before. It didn’t seem to fit in, and you never remembered having seen it before. Before the crawling feeling on the back of your neck could even settle down, your friends barged into the shop, intrigued by the prospects of finding something new. 

You wandered aimlessly, looking over the dusty and mysterious trinkets. It seemed like some kind of pawn or consignment shop, and you could only imagine your father would be displeased at the dubious origin of many of the products. You weren’t too familiar with the occult, but you were fairly certain those crystals weren’t just sparkly baubles, and the pentagrams on the covers of some of the books weren’t just for aesthetic purposes. A whisper in your ear startled you and you almost dropped the dusty tome that you had been almost hypnotically engrossed in. 

“Finding something intriguing? I might have some other items of interest…” the man had the most dizzying smile. It almost radiated, making you smile back though he was standing far closer than propriety mandated. 

“Ah, um, no, thank you. Just browsing. I have enough reading books at home for a lifetime, I think.” You stepped back, trying to reestablish your personal space. Despite the fact that you should feel wary of a strange shopkeeper, you only felt flushed and happy.

“Well, it’s been a long time with someone as dazzling of an aura as yours set foot in this shop. I feel like I need to commemorate the moment. We have many clients, but none so prestigious as the pastor’s daughter. I have just the gift.”

At this, you did start to feel ill at ease. How did he know who you were, when you were certain you had never set foot in this shop or seen him around town? It wasn’t large and your father was well connected. You also realized that your friends were nowhere to be seen. Though the shop was small, it was divided into small rooms and gauzy curtains. You tried to slow your racing heart by telling yourself that they were just in the next room. Except you didn’t hear their effervescent chatter.

 The shopkeeper has been rummaging around, and he finally pulls out a small tarnished ring. There is some kind of abstract symbols engraved into the silver, and at first you think the ring is warped, because there is a bump in the silver. As you inspect it further, you realize that there is a small red stone on the inside of the band.

“Try it on, I insist. It’s as though it was made for you! I’ve had it for awhile and haven’t found the right person, but it is calling to me now,” the shopkeeper beamed. He was definitely insane, and you didn’t want to get on his bad side until you found your companions.  

You slide the ring onto your ring finger, and there is a white-hot burning sensation for a fraction of a second, then it soothes and cools. You try to tug it off, unsure of what is happening, but it is as though it has fused to your skin. The ring will not budge. You begin to apologize profusely to the shopkeeper, but he looks as though he has just found ancient treasure, and insists that you keep it. “I don’t think I could take that from you now, if I wanted to, my dear, and quite frankly, I do not!”

He is practically bouncing, and runs around the counter to sweep you up in a hug.

“I can’t believe we’ve finally found you! Yoongi will be so pleased-he’s been waiting quite literally forever to meet you. I must begin making preparations immediately!” With that, he rushes through the gauzy curtains, leaving you alone in the ominous shop. You decide that you no longer care where your friends are, but you must leave immediately. You can’t risk another hug, or any other trinkets that are apparently drawn to you.  

You weave through various rooms, and while it had seemed a labyrinth before, it is now as if they are opening for you, and bending to your wishes. You must be more careful with what you eat before bed, you chastise yourself, assuming that this is all a strange dream. You arrive home in record time without further incident and spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, wondering if it is a dream within a dream.

The next day comes after an agonizingly slow night, and when you meet your friends in the town square, they seemingly have no recollection of the strange shop from the previous day. In fact when you ask them about it and show them the ring, they look at you as though you are crazy. They can’t see the ring.You’re starting to believe that you are losing your mind, because you keep seeing blurring shadows out of your peripheral vision, but every time you try to look at them directly, they disperse.  You let the topic drop, not wanting to alienate yourself further, only half paying attention as they gossip about the cute baker in town, Seokjin. Normally, you would be rapt with attention, but today you can’t bring yourself to focus on anything other than the lingering feeling that you are being watched.

Luckily your father is not home. Separation of church and state exists on paper only in your town, and you can only assume that he is at the weekly town-hall meeting.  You rush up to your room eager to rest your eyes and to let this godforsaken day be over. It is that strange time between “dogs and wolves” as the French say, and the dusk means that your eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim light in the room. When they do, you scream.

There is a boy (or man) sitting on your bed, looking irritably at the cross on the wall opposite. When you scream, he is by your side, hand clamped over your mouth.

“Is that any way to greet your fiancé?”

At that you only scream louder, and you bite his hand to get him to let go. He curses and draws back, and the blood coming out of his hand looks black, though again with the light, you can’t be too sure.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you, and this is how you repay my loyalty?” He approaches, eyes glittering.  You aren’t stupid though, and you’ve maneuvered so your back is against the wall with the cross.

You looked at the boy with icy locks standing across from you. He seemed relatively normal,  but you dare not turn your back on him. Normal, apart from the angry aura, but really, anyone would be angry in this situation. You had just bit him. You realized you were rationalizing and took a deep breath.

“If you’re repelled by crosses, how did you even get into this house?” You spit, yanking it down from the wall and  brandishing the cross in front of you. You haven’t been in the room for sixty seconds,  and yet you have a pretty good idea of who or what this man may be. Thought you had often been curious at idle gossip, now the only thing you feel is icy terror running through your veins. 

He stops mid-step, hands up in warning or surrender, you can’t tell.

“Ah, but warmheart,  where there is a will, there is a way….I wont say it’s pleasant though.”

He remains where he is, assessing.

“I don’t think this is exactly the right foot to get off on. I had envisioned our meeting differently, in the myriad ways I imagined it for 5,000 years. And now here, you are, the daughter of a pastor.” He sniffs as though he is personally offended.

At this, you lower the cross, affronted.  “And what is wrong with that? It’s not like I can help who my father is.”

He sees his opportunity and takes it.  He rushes at you faster than your eyes can adjust, swatting the cross to the side where it splinters into pieces. A bad omen.

He drags you to the bed, and you are already envisioning the worst. He snorts, as though he knows where your train of thought is going.

“And here, Hoseok had informed me that your aura was the purest he had ever seen.”

You can only deduce that Hoseok is the name of the mysterious shopkeeper.  The demon sits on your bed, and leads you to sit across from him. Though his fingers laced through yours would look endearing and casual to anyone else, his grip is iron. You know that you can’t escape, maybe ever, your mind adds dramatically.  

“You know him well, I presume?” You question, trying to change the subject.

“He’s my….second in command. He’s been helping me look for you for years.” 

“And who exactly am I?”

“You? You’re ‘my first and last. The only one I will ever be able to love.’ Sentimental, no? Though my memory fades, whoever forged the curse in the ring clearly had a romantic streak a mile wide.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s understandable that you were cursed, but why am I brought into this?” You sigh, feeling uncomfortable and having a feeling of where this may be headed.

He laughs at that, and the way the smile changes his face makes him seem less like a demon and more like a normal young man.

“Long ago in a kingdom far, far way,” he smirks at this, “and after years of bloodshed between demons and humans, perpetuated primarily by myself- I had a bit of a wild adolescence,” he explains, as you cock and eyebrow at him, and then continues.

“A powerful warlock whose name I no longer remember thought that the only way to control my power and destruction was by to tie me to a human. But no human at the time was willing or able to control me, so he creating a ring that could survive the ages. Eventually, when someone sufficiently strong, compassionate, and pure of character came along, the ring would find the person, we would be wed and put all of this strife to end. But I guess the mage didn’t expect it to take so long, or for me to mellow out on my own.” He grimaced, and you realized that you weren’t the only one who had this thrust upon them.

“And they lived happily ever after, I hope…”he trails off, eyes somehow looking hopeful and bleak at the same time. 

“What happens if I say no? You clearly realize how ridiculous this all sounds, and who my father is. This will be a nightmare for the both of us.”

He nods, face falling. “Then I will be condemned forever to hell.” 

“Umm, you aren’t already?” 

“If you’re going to be married to me, there is so much you need to learn. Firstly, there are circles of hell. Secondly, the spirit world is different from hell,” he huffed, clearly exasperated. You noticed his hair getting fluffier as he got more irritated. A cute tic. You wondered if it was a demon thing.

“Let me guess-the darkness at the edge of my vision all day were spirits summoned by the ring?”

“Ahhh, so you do have a brain,” he teases. “But no, they were not summoned by the ring. I summoned them to protect you until nightfall. I can only manifest physically at night.”

You roll your eyes, but you are secretly touched. “Yes, I’m sure I was in so much danger in the town I have lived in my entire life.”

He leans closer, and whispers in your ear, breath icy. “Ah, but warmheart, my wellbeing is forever tied to your own now.”

You can’t decide if that is the most chivalrous or selfish motive you have ever heard. You are incredibly conflicted about the whole marriage to a stranger thing, and a demon stranger at that. But Yoongi has been incredibly forthcoming this entire time, and you have to admit he has a certain charm. The two of you pass the evening quickly with you asking questions and him providing answers. 

By the time he dissipates in the morning with promises to answer any other questions that night, you already know that you know your answer. But first he’s going to have to work for it a little. You smirk.  Hoseok should have double checked your aura, you laugh to yourself.

The real question (and your biggest fear) was how you would break the news to your extremely conservative father that you were apparently betrothed to a demon named Yoongi.