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mirahuyooo · 1 year

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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

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mirahuyooo · 1 year

Text

Stranded (II) | 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: 11,730 (PART II) contents: FLUFF, domestic things, ✨revalations✨, drinking (duh), getting drunk (duh pt 2), hangovers (duh pt 3), yn and hobi being wholesome uwu, people teasing the shit out of them, someone caught the feels 👀💕💖💞, 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: I forgot to release a teaser for this lmao but here's part two! hAVE FLUFF BC THE LAST PART IS GONNA BE A ROLLERCOASTER MWAHAHAHA I won't hold you guys back for long 💖 hope you guys enjoyed this! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Stay tuned for the last part next week!~

𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿 ◁ || ▷ 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽

If you must admit, it’s not so bad to be in the company of the trickster stranger and his spotted beast.

In the weeks that followed, the two of them had helped you make a home for yourself, especially as the quiet decay of nature marks the eventual coming of full autumn and winter. Upon finding a little cave near the beach, you have since made turns fortifying it against nature and wild animals. Neither of you were good carpenters, but it was surely an adventure attempting to build makeshift furniture and decor. It cannot compare to the palace you grew up in, but you find yourself not minding the clutter and mess.

(There exists traces of them both around your little cave—fruits and fishes that Hoseok brings with him in his visits for you to eat, that wolf pelt cloak he let you keep, a makeshift bed on the ground for Agrios to lay on, three sets of wooden plates that you and Hoseok tried your hand at crafting.)

Though he no longer has practical reasons to do so—what with you somewhat now settled well in this corner of the island—Hoseok still visits you in your cave, at times, bringing Agrios with him. Sometimes it's a walk along the beach, other times it’s some random trinket he wanted to give you, but most times it’s endless idle chatting.

“I’m beginning to think I’ve seen that face of yours before,” you muse to him one day as the two of you sit on a blanket by the beach, watching the sun set. Next to you, Agrios naps with his tail swinging leisurely against your arm. The seabreeze blows fresh against your face, as you take in the timeless view.

Today’s a beautiful day, you think. Especially with good company.

Beside you, Hoseok seemed surprised himself. “You have?” he murmurs at your sudden thought, but his eyes soon twinkle. “And where might have you seen my dashing looks, princess?”

(He knows of your true identity by now—of your being a princess on the run for a treason committed—and has sworn to not tell a soul of your whereabouts to anyone, but something tells you he calls you princess simply to tease.)

You roll your eyes at his smug expression. “I said ‘I think’, did I not?” you huff, gently running your hand through Agrios’ fur and earning purrs of approval from the beast. “It may have been in one of the palace celebrations, I’m not really sure, but I think I’ve already heard of that boisterous laugh of yours.”

Memories of your time in Crete have become so distant the more you spend your time here. Though a part of you doesn't really mind, you are sometimes reminded of certain moments, and recently, a vague sensation rings through your head of a time where you may or may not have caught a glimpse of him.

“Well,” Hoseok muses with a shrug, catching you off guard. “You might be correct on that one.”

You didn’t quite think your assumption was true. “Oh?” you ask, a surprise now putting you in his initial position. “How so?”

Hoseok eases back, looking at the sky as if it would make him remember previous events more. “I have been to Crete before during my travels,” he hums, tapping his chin as he thought, “though I was most likely drunk off my wits, I think I can recall being in Crete around five summers ago.”

Your eyes are rounded in shock as the notion jogs your memory.

You recall sneaking out of your room, only to see chaos in the palace grounds because your older brother perched himself atop the statue of a stallion in the gardens and slurring nonsense. “Were you the one that got Catreus drunk senseless?” you gasped, scandalized but also very much amused remembering the utter mess your usually stoic and uptight brother had turned into.

Had he been there to spread the influence of his god?

It takes him a minute, but Hoseok seems to remember pulling such a stunt on a young man he came across in the garden, what with the proud grin that takes over his lips. “He seemed to need it,” he shrugs, devilish as he then goes to nudge you. “So do you.”

Though the thought of wine yet again tempts you, you go pale for a moment at the thought of the embarrassing chaos he’ll get you into if you get drunk in his presence. “I refuse to drink anything that comes from the likes of you,” you claim, a laugh leaving your lips nonetheless.

Hoseok drapes an arm over your shoulder, leaning some of his weight on you as he does. “Once you set your soul free,” he mischievously tells you, “you’ll know how fun these sorts of adventures can be.”

Pushing him off of you with a playful squint, you cross your arms. “Nonsense,” you playfully retorted, “one of us has to be the serious one around here, don’t we?”

A dramatic gasp comes to you as a response, along with a poke to the side that makes you giggle. The young man soon throws his full weight all over you, sending you both laying back onto the sand with an ‘oof!’ from your end.

Hoseok simply continues his dramatics. “You wound me, (Y/N)!” he cried, “how could you?”

Your laugh merrily fills the air as Hoseok feigns limp against you, playing to be slain by your words. His upper half intersects over your stomach, forcing you to lay on your back. “Get off of me, you oaf,” you half-heartedly whine as you try and wriggle your way out of his grasp.

His black tresses tickle your arm as he shakes his head. “No,” he childishly insists, as you turn your attention to his old companion for some help. The spotted beast simply stares back in disdain, as if the two of you were rowdy children he was tasked to watch over.

“Agrios,” you call out for the leopard in the midst of your struggle, “help me here, won’t you?”

A second or two passes before the beast trudges forth to nudge at Hoseok’s head, signaling him to get off of you. “You’re such a traitor, Agrios,” Hoseok grumbles, nonetheless shifting his weight a little, so that the only weight on you would be his head resting against your stomach. “No fun, at all.”

A breathless chuckle leaves your lips as you relent with where he settled with, the two of you now staring at the clouds overhead. A comfortable silence settles between you both, but your mind ruins it soon enough.

All so suddenly, you come to think of how different you and Hoseok are—of how you pale in comparison to him. The way he grins and laughs about his adventures brews a conscious jealousy in you. His experiences have made him so happy and carefree—something you wish to be, if it were only that easy.

“Having fun isn’t good,” you murmur underneath your breath—a reminder reigning yourself in. You’ll get ahead of yourself again and get yourself hurt for the umpteenth time.

Suddenly, Hoseok straightened from his laidback bearing, and gawked at you. Sitting up along with him, you realized he had heard you, and, to your shock, he almost looked offended by your statement. “What makes you think so?” he questioned, somewhere in between confused and concerned.

Feeling embarrassed at the realization you’ve said such a thing aloud, you turned your eyes towards the sea as the waves rushed to kiss the sand. “Not to disparage you, Hoseok, but,” you bit your lip as you struggled to put your thoughts into words. “I simply am not one for merrymakings.”

You feel Hoseok shift next to you. From the corner of your eyes, you see him lean over to get a good look at you. His face bared no hint of the anger you expected from him. He, instead, was simply just interested in knowing the reason as to why a person such as yourself wouldn’t be fond of parties. “Again,” he manages a chuckle, “May I ask why?”

Your life was a stark contrast to his colorful escapades. A part of you wanted to have the hunger he has for having fun and wreaking havoc, but in your bones was the foreign princess raised to be obedient and compliant. “I’m not fit for it like you are, Hoseok,” you tell him, “I’m quiet and unfun—”

“Well—”

“—I’ve never even been to a lot of parties,” you cut any of his rebuttals out. “It’s why I don’t have fun in the ones I do attend.”

Hoseok blinks—once, twice—his head taking in your words upon closer inspection. Soon, he jolted to his feet and clapped his hands together in some 'eureka!' moment. “Well that simply cannot do!” he then exclaims with a determined look branding his face.

At his words, your eyebrows furrowed together as you cast a glance at the leopard beside you for any telling sign of his companion's reaction. “What are you planning?” you questioned Hoseok, your voice swimming with suspicion. (You liked to think you were rightfully being so. The last time you allowed yourself to do something bold, you had gotten yourself stranded on this very island.)

Hoseok opens his arms with a grand gesture, as if you could see what he was envisioning. “We’ll go around the island for celebrations!” he boldly declares. "A festival for Demeter and Persephone will be coming soon! A lot of gatherings are bound to take place!"

The big grin that seized his face unflinchingly remained, tempting you to agree with his plans so as to make him happy. Alas, your mind demanded to see reason. Your arms crossed as you defiantly questioned him. “Not possible. I'll be seen by the townsfolk if we do such a thing,” you countered, gesturing to yourself. “I'm a fugitive, remember?”

Hoseok grins still, so bright that it rivals the sun itself. “That is not a problem at all, my dear,” he assures you with a wink. “You have me.”

Your heart swells but your mind scoffs. “That’s hardly any consolation,” you lightly grimace as you idly run a hand through Agrios' fur, thinking of the shenaniganry Hoseok pulls and will pull.

Hoseok, ever brazen, doesn't, at all, seem to take offense in your honest doubt. "Hush now," he all but tuts before beckoning you to follow him. "Come with me, dearest (Y/N)!~"

Your friend stands there, a few feet away from you, waiting so excitedly that a traitorous part of you has already started to give in to his ideas. "Hoseok…" you sigh as you stand on your feet, Agrios following suit. "I really don't think it'd be a good idea for me to be anywhere else…"

For a moment, Hoseok turns somber, taking a step towards you to hold you by the shoulders. "It'll be alright," he assures you, voice as comforting as the squeeze he gives you. "I'll be there and we'll have fun. You don't have to drink if you'd like, but there'll be a feast. I'm sure you'd like to eat something else other than fish and fruits for a change."

A smile is nearly coaxed out of you at the thought.

It took a hint of that intrigue and a second for Hoseok's excited grin to resurface. "There'll be music, storytelling, dancing—it'll be grand!" he says, circling you as he excitedly lists off some ideas off his head. "We can all don on masks if you truly want to keep your identity secret, though I truly doubt anyone would care."

That traitorous part of you grows ever curious the more those gorgeous eyes of his sparkle with delight.

Hoseok half-heartedly rests his hand upon his heart as he lays the last of his assurances. "I'll lead you out of it if it ever gets too much for you. You needn't worry."

At this point, your mind is scrambling for an excuse to keep itself atop your reckless urge for such pleasures. Stay hidden!—your paranoia screeches, thrashing about and clinging onto any bit of sense it could grab ahold of.

Yet, you sigh and sink into the abyss. "You're a man of many words," you tell him as you nonetheless let your arms be linked with his.

The hint of your surrender writes satisfaction all over Hoseok's face. "I intend to keep them," he then croons, hips coyly nudging yours as the three of you make your way out of the beachline. "You'll have the time of your life, I promise."

Hoseok was surprisingly diligent when he wanted to, eagerly at your door (cave?) and ushering you awake in the early hours of the morrow. "Time to rise and shine! I have a lot planned for you today!" he gleefully rips away your bedding and, in spite of your half-awake protests, you are carried out of your abode over the shoulder of your dearest menace.

Eyelids heavier still, you could hardly figure out what on earth your friend was up to. By some degree of capability, you resorted to grasping at whatever slumber was left in you as Hoseok carried you to gods know where.

"Still sleeping, princess?"

You only grunt in response.

In hindsight, you should've been more attentive—should've heard the sound of running water and pulled yourself out of a sleepy haze then and there. Maybe then, you wouldn't have suffered the heart attack of having your legs plunged into cold waters out of nowhere. "Hoseok!" you screech as you jump back into his hold, suddenly very much awake.

Miraculously, he doesn't lose his balance, saving the both of you from instant, wet damnation. "Good morning," the menace grins as he sets you down once again—this time gentler as you become more aware of where he had taken you.

It was another cavern—one larger and more open than the one you made your home. The sunlight peaks through a sizable gap between the rocks above, allowing it to grace a little light inside. In the middle of the cave was a pool, one that likely has a tunnel beneath that leads to the sea outside, considering the faint sound of crashing waves in the distance reaching your ears.

"It's beautiful," you say with barely any thought as you gather the ends of your dress while you peer at the crystal clear water that reaches just below your knees. You stand on somewhat smooth stone, painstakingly carved by the sea through millions of years. It's beautiful.

"It is, isn't it?" Hoseok thoughtfully hums beside you.

Alas, you must put a hold on marvelling at the scenery to kick some water his way. "What did you dip me in here for then?" you grumble and glare—a chance to question why he dragged you out so early in the day for his antics.

Hoseok gasps, scandalized by your stunt in exaggeration. You paid his dramatics no heed, arms by your hips as you continued to squint until he gave you his answers. "I simply wanted to show you this haven of mine!"

You agreeably hum, understanding well how this makes a fine little hideout, but still. You try and pry more out of him, your questioning gaze not dropping.

As you suspected, the mischief returns to Hoseok's face. "That, and the fact that this is where my plans for the day will first take shape."

Taken aback, your arms fall to your sides. "What?"

He all but clapped his hands, gesturing grandly. "You can come out now, ladies," he calls out, his voice lightly echoing back at him.

From the gap above the cavern, two figures came flying in. They gracefully circle you both, and all you could do is gawk.

You could hardly believe your eyes. "Nymphs? How—"

"I have my ways," Hoseok gloats, beaming proudly as your wide eyes follow the nymphs who gave you amicable smiles. You turn back towards him, still incredulous.

"What's that supposed to m—"

There was no one there. That sneaky bastard. Where did he—

"My lady?"

You look back and see the nymphs excitedly awaiting your next move. "I'm (Y/N)," you bashfully say with a little courtesy, earning a delighted laugh from the two of them.

"We know," said the one with the dress adorned with pink and purple petals, her kind green eyes disappearing from her smile. "I'm Alenka," she says, she and the other nymph mirroring your courtesy from earlier.

"I'm Aldora," the more timid of the pair then said, dressed in blue as light as the sky sparkling like scales when the sunlight hit them.

Why would they waste their time here?

Unable to withstand your curiosity any longer, you ask the two beauties. "I'm so sorry," you shyly grimace, "but what exactly did my friend put you up to?"

For a moment, the two exchange a look of shock and intrigue at your words. Alenka speaks to answer your question. "We're here to help you get ready for the festival of course!" she tells you as Aldora nods along. "His hi—Hoseok, asked us to make you the prettiest we possibly can."

Her slip of the tongue doesn't escape you, but at the moment, the notion of your bare body being seen makes you fluster. "I can bathe by myself," you were quick to stammer out. "You needn't worry about that part."

Though hesitant, the two of them eventually nod. "We'll wait for you outside, Lady (Y/N)," Aldora says with the ghost of a smile. "Call for us when you're finished."

A nod from you and you're left to your own devices, water lapping at the ends of your dress as you stand idly. With a sigh, you reach to unravel your dress and shiver as you take a step deeper into the pool, deep enough for the water to rest at your collarbones.

Best to get this over with. Wouldn't want to keep the nymphs waiting…

The silence allows your thoughts to voice themselves to you, and with no one else to keep you company, you find yourself entertaining them. What Hoseok has planned for the day, you have no idea, but it seems more questions than answers reveal themselves before you.

How did he manage to make contact with nymphs and make them serve you, no less?

What lies behind their behavior at the mention of Hoseok?

Why on earth is there so much effort for a damn party?

Hoseok had a bizarre flair to him, one that reeked of chaos and mischief, but your mind itches to know how on Earth he's managed to pull all of his stunts. Followers of Dionysus would be fond of parties—that you anticipated much—but you never thought they'd be able to get the willing participation of nymphs.

From what you've heard, nymphs often prefer the company of their own kin—too many mortals having tried to take their sisters as brides to not meet with other kinds without caution. Outside of that, they'd be in the company of heroes and demigods—even the gods themselves, too.

You freeze out of your own making, almost choking on air.

Does this mean Hoseok is something akin to the likes of those?

Heart racing, you try and put the pieces together.

He doesn't seem to carry himself as a hero—you've seen first hand what one is like.

Would he be a demigod then? Or a lover of a god?

Such were the likeliest of cases, you thought to yourself, but then you harken to the nymphs' behavior—their courteousness, their eagerness to serve, Alenka's slip of the tongue…

What could it have been?

His hi… his highness?

Your fingers pull to free your lips from your teeth, only to have them be chewed at.

Is Hoseok royalty then? What else would 'his highness' impl—no, it can't be…

Becoming a melting pot of emotions nearly turns you crazy, heart racing and unsure of what to do. "Enough," you tell yourself this with a staggering breath, pushing the questions over Hoseok's nature down the recesses of your mind. "Just bathe and meet with the nymphs, (Y/N). Just bathe."

Hoseok can be patient when he wants to, especially for something as near and dear to his heart as this. His unruly dark locks were combed, for once, and swept away from his face. He was dressed in his finest tunic that was a deep wine red with golden thread embroidery around the hem. Not that he needed it, but he also brought along a fur cloak in case the winds decided to blow colder.

Waiting an hour or so was a battlefield of boredom he was willing to march through, slicing through the drawn out hands of time by idly talking with Agrios or going through his plans for the day for the umpteenth time.

In time, he got the just rewards he was waiting for.

“Hoseok?”

There you come in, walking towards the edge of the treeline where he and Agrios waited. Hours of biding his time for this, and all he does is gawk. The sunlight, ever the blessing in his life, has allowed him to take the sight of you in.

The nymphs had dressed you in a gown of deep red that turned purple in some trick of the eye, flowing gracefully where the wind willed it to. The fabric fittingly wrapped around your frame, the neckline dipping to show just the right amount of your decolletage and give space for the necklace he gave them to put on you. Flowers of the same colors were braided into your hair as the rest of your locks were kept to fall behind you, leaving only gentle curls to frame your face.

There was a stupid grin that seized control over his lips. All good things do come to those who wait.

A shy smile rests on your berry-stained lips, nervously chewed on by your teeth as you await his response. The sheer burgundy shawl that was draped over your shoulders also gave itself to be fiddled with by your fingers.

Agrios nudges his calf to knock him out of his stupor. “Is the first of your plans successful enough?” you try and jest upon seeing him break out of his trance, head tilted to the side in what Hoseok could tell was both teasing yet genuinely asking.

Having recovered enough sobriety, Hoseok opens his arms to welcome you. “Very much so,” he muses, as he offers an arm for you to take. A shiver of delight runs down his spine as you take his invitation and link your arm with his as your other hand gathers the ends of your skirt when the three of you begin to walk through the forest. "You look beautiful, princess," he gladly says, voice soft in spite of him mischievously leaning close to nudge your side.

Hoseok's compliment goes responseless, but the telling reddened ears and cheeks you bore was enough to satiate the pleasures he was fishing for. “Where to then?” you instead ask him, looking around at the trees and trying to familiarize yourself with this side of the forest. “Or will that have to be a secret too?”

A chuckle escaped his lips as you came back to look at him with a quirked brow. “I’m afraid so, princess,” Hoseok teasingly lilts, “but if I must admit, seeing as the first of the plan went well, I have gained high hopes for the next one.”

You reply with a mere hum, but your curiosity doesn’t elude Hoseok and it all the more leaves him giddy to see your reaction to the rest of his plans for the day.

Sunlight through trees left a pattern of light dancing across your skin, one that constantly tempted him to steal glances your way. Idle conversation flows between you both with Hoseok being in the middle of telling you the time Silenus, the one who raised him, got so knackered from wine that he went missing for a couple of days and Hoseok had to look everywhere for him.

However much of a chatterbox he may be, Hoseok wasn’t one to keep on talking if his company wasn't at all present with him. He looks at you, furrowed brows and all, clearly thinking of something else. “Is something the matter?” he asks with a light tug of the arm linked with yours.

For a moment, you were startled, looking up at him with your cheeks reddening in embarrassment. “It’s nothing,” you tell him, but he insists.

“Nonsense,” he says, circling around you to hold both of your hands in his as he continues to walk backwards. “It matters if it’s clearly occupying your mind.”

Your furrowed brows persist in your worry of him and his reckless abandon. “It’s silly, Hoseok,” you tell him with a shake of your head, trying to stop him from walking like this.

Hoseok obliges your silent request, opting to stand there before you and idly swing your arms together. Agrios, too, stopping to look at you both. “Try me,” the man before you daringly grins.

Berry-stained lips draw into a pout as you think of his challenge. There is much hesitation in your eyes, stirring more grounds within him for actual concern. Hoseok waits patiently for you to find the courage to tell him what plagues you. For a while, nothing but the faint rushing of a creek nearby filled the air.

"You're not human, are you?"

The swinging hands come to a halt and his very being froze all over. "What?" he all but says, truly not expecting such a question out of you. To know that the very answer of it will upset you dreads him even more, but he decides to conceal any more of what could give himself away and wait for you to elaborate further.

"All of this," you say as your fingers slip from his grasp—a warmth which he instantly misses—and you gesture to yourself. "All of what you've been doing for me. They are not what mere mortals can accomplish."

Hoseok wields his casual and careless shrug. "I have my ways—"

Alas, you were ready with your own points all along. "My wounds were healed in an instant because of you," you say, showing him the skin he had asked his half-brother, Yoongi, to heal.

"Yes, but that wasn't exactly me," he reasons with a nervous chuckle. A half-truth.

You go on to gesture at his leopard. "You tamed a beast like Agrios."

"I raised him!" Hoseok exasperatedly claims, looking at Agrios expectantly as if the beast could speak to confirm support of him. Another half-truth.

Still, you were stubborn. "And you've even called upon nymphs to dress me."

A damning choice, he agrees, but one he still carries to his defense. "They owed me a favor," he says, shrugging it off. And another half-truth.

Guilt bubbles within him as he continues his deceit of you. It’s in good intentions, he tells himself. "These things hardly warrant an interrogation like this, princess," he tells you, almost pleading, really. "I'm simply being a man of my word."

Alas, you could see through him—through the way he couldn't meet your eyes for too long, through the way he was overly sweeping the topic under the rug.

"And a liar," you retort, crossing your arms as you point a finger accusingly. "You're keeping something from me. Are we not friends enough for me to deserve the truth of who you are?"

Such a tone of hurt was an unfair spear to use against him and his heart. "No," he sighs, turning away from you to run a hand through his hair. "I simply think it's of no importance, alright?"

You inch just a tad bit closer—mayhaps you were dreading this too. "It's who you are," you say, ever insistent but in a gentler manner. "Of course it would be important to me."

The wine god nearly buckles, tired with the charades anyways, but every time he’s reminded of your fear of the gods, he’s reminded of why he’s hidden this truth to you in the first place. Hoseok would never want you to look at him that way—that rigid formality and careful walking on eggshells.

"Are you a demigod?" you continue to ask, resorting to listing off prompts of what you suspected. "A god?"

Hoseok curses the way he knocked out of his stupor upon hearing that word—at how it instantly pulled the truth to light, and at how it earned him a shocked gasp from you.

"You are…"

The moment he raised his gaze to yours, he saw the panic flashing in your eyes. With what he had known of you, you were likely frantic of possibly offending or disrespecting a god. Even if you were a bit snarky at times, Hoseok really didn't mind—hardly felt irked at all. He had long understood that there were personal reasons with which your walls were built on.

"(Y/N)—"

Your instincts urge you to take a step back—keep a respectful distance between you both! He's a god!—but you root yourself to your spot. "Who?" you manage to ask, voice trembling and barely above a whisper.

No. No. No.

The confidence he’s been wielding all but escapes his grasp the moment he needed it to cool his nerves. It’s all falling apart. "(Y/N)..." Hoseok says, though his words fall short of anything else.

"Please," your voice pulls him back to you. "Tell me who you are."

Despair fills him as he realizes this has passed a point of denying, the last of his chances at redemption only being him finally telling you the truth. "Dionysus," he says, a name that’s become so foreign in your light. "I'm Dionysus."

Shock befalls you even more, your mind reeling to take the truth in.

The thought of it had existed in your mind, but you were still not prepared for it to have been the truth. You had figured there must've been something different about Hoseok, but to think the endearing menace you've been bickering with was a god all along.

“Is that really the truth?”

The wine god lightly scoffs. "No one would dare lie about such a thing," he says what you both know aloud. No mortal would dare to, lest they intend to be struck down by the gods for their fraudulence on purpose.

Tentatively reaching forth, certain relief passes through him when you let him take your hands into his, and form them into a cupping motion. He anticipates your reaction as he fills your palms with wine out of thin air, watching the way your breath hitches at the sensation in your hands.

Hoseok finds himself grasping at straws. He’s no mighty god of Olympus—just another child of his father, born with divinity more than some heroic brute strength like the rest of Zeus’ bastards. He was just a relatively unknown god cast away from the pantheon because his divinity wasn’t worthy enough to grant him a place there and cast away by many mortals for representing insanity and lack of control.

Perhaps, that would be enough to satiate your worries—enough to make you let him stay.

Rivulets of wine drip from the crevices of your fingers, emptying from your grasp just as Hoseok attempts to empty out his heart. “I’m no great god. Just one that fancies wine and shenanigans,” he weakly jests to you, leaving no room for any of your upcoming protests as he gets to his main point. “I’d like it very much if I remained as Hoseok to you.”

It was almost hilarious to see you more upset and frantic about all of this than he was. “I can’t possibly just—”

“It wouldn’t be any different from before,” he told you so carelessly that you would’ve thought him a fibbing mortal had it not been for what you’ve seen him capable of doing.

You look at him, incredulous still.

“You’re a god,” you remind him, fumbling with your wine-stained hands as you willed yourself to not lean any more into his warmth. He’s the god of wine—naturally bound to be more chaotic than others, but he was a god, nonetheless. Surely, there must be lines that a mortal like you cannot cross.

The wine god shook his head. Here on this island—with you—he was free to be no one else but himself. “I’m Hoseok,” he ardently insists, “I’m your friend.”

Your silence from a loss for words he took as hesitation that needed more assurance. "No curse or anything of that sort will come upon you," he reassures. "If you had done me any great offense, I would've already done something about it before."

The thought of yet another divine curse plaguing your life sends shivers down your spine, but the better part of you knows he tells the truth. He may be a god, but this was the same man who passionately guided you through making wine, regaled you with his travels, and encouraged you to share your mundane palace life.

This was the same man who you’ve bickered with to and fro, rough-housed with more times than you could count, and bemoaned about tackling you in hugs.

Gods! This was the same man who saved you from the beach, helped you make a home for yourself, and have nymphs dress you for some merry-making he had planned out for you.

He is Hoseok—always will be Hoseok to you, no matter how hard you can try to deny yourself otherwise and paint him in the divinity all the gods have. This notion elates yet dreads you all the same.

What will become of you?

Compared to him, you were a mere mortal—a princess, yes, but a princess on the run.

You are feeble—easily hurt, easily damaged, easily slain. If he or any of the gods so pleases, your life could be over in an instant for mere amusement. Will you be cursed like your mother? Will your life be taken for angering a god?

Perhaps, what truly terrifies you is that you are nothing—no hero, no favored child, nor a wife to one. No one knows where you are. No one would know what becomes of you. No one would mourn.

You have nothing to your name, even at this very moment. The fabric that's draped over your body, the flowers woven into your hair, and the remnants of wine that drips from your fingertips—all of them were courtesy of Hoseok; of the wine god, Dionysus.

In a brighter light, you suppose this might just be your new purpose in life—to be in his company, not simply because he was a god, but because he himself had done you great favors and changed your life for the better. Fear mustn't take hold on the foundation of what you and Hoseok have built, because it shouldn't have any foundation for itself in the first place.

Hoseok has nothing to gain from a runaway princess like you, and yet here he was, afraid of what will change with the truth. A god begging a mortal—what on Earth have you done?

You turn your back to the wine god, walking towards the creek to carefully crouch and wash your hands anew—free of the stains the wine left on you. The fresh start to your bond with the no-great-god friend of yours begins here and now.

A soft nudge to your arm demands your attention—Agrios, as it turns out, softly noses your side, eventually willing you to pet him in assurance. Right. You, too, have gotten used to the spotted beast, one of the many things that made Hoseok so bizarre.

Behind you awaits the young man—young god—so tensely eyeing your every move, heart racing a mile a minute. His lip might as well bleed with ichor from how hard he bites it. However, the moment you come back to face him with a smile on your lips, Hoseok felt he could breathe again.

“Well," you gingerly begin, feet taking steps towards him and stopping at an arm's length. "What are we going to do now, Hoseok?”

You still worry, he notes, remnants of your hesitation bleed in the way you anticipate his next move. Nonetheless, warmth begins to bloom in his heart once more, hearing his true name from your lips a bliss to bask in.

“Follow me,” he warmly invites, opening a hand for you to take. The plan may have gone through drastic changes, but it's salvageable, he thinks—he hopes. At the very least he wouldn't have to hide the strings he intended to pull.

A moment passes and an outbreath escapes your lips. You take his hand once again, unsure of where he’d take you.

As it turns out, Hoseok planned to take you to the nearest town. There were a lot of people, their distant chattering and regaling was loud to you in spite of the distance. The town is more colorful than you had thought, a celebration clearly happening—a harvest festival in honor of Demeter and Persephone, just as Hoseok had told you.

Still, that doesn't explain everything.

In an instant, you drape the shawl overhead and shrink into the obscurity of the forest, hoping it would mask your identity. "Hoseok, what is the meaning of this?" you squeak in a panic, stepping back into the treeline where Agrios remained. The wine god, on the other hand, excitedly steps out towards the festivities and waits for you to join him. "I told you," the man sweetly beams, walking back to you to place an assuring squeeze on your shoulders. "We're here to have fun."

The fabric atop your head slips away at Hoseok's will, his careful touch tingling against your skin. "Let's not hide such beauty, hm?" He coyly chastises, earning a nudge to the rib and an eye roll from you. His laugh comes out stifled, looking down at you still amused.

"Insufferable," you half-heartedly grumble under your breath as you dare to walk into the paved road that led to the town, tightly gripping Hoseok's arm in some attempt to soothe your nerves.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

The two of you have been having your fair share of escapades all day—spectating games and sports, sneaking around to watch the enactment of Persephone's abduction, going around stalls of food—and a big grin takes its place on your lips, delighting the wine god. Throughout all of that, however, you were constantly moving and fairly hidden amongst the crowd, which is why the next of his plans earned yet another skeptic frown from you.

The night had fallen and as the wind became chillier, Hoseok had draped his fur cloak over you, laughing as it swallowed you whole. The three of you—Agrios having his own fun time strolling about in the forest while you and Hoseok were in town—walked into the forest, and to your surprise, Hoseok had brought you to a clearing in the woods, with many people, a small feast, and a bonfire—another gathering.

And so here you were, standing at the outskirts of the merrymaking and clutching Hoseok's fur cloak around you tighter, unsure and hesitant as always. Jolly music fills the air as you follow Hoseok's figure going around. He holds a goblet in one hand as the other animatedly moves along with his dramatic gestures.

"Have fun!" he had urged you earlier before he greeted the welcoming crowd, introducing you to some of them as his good friend—but, in spite of assuring him you would, "have fun" you did not.

Disappointment of yourself clashes with the paranoia gnawing away at your brain. When you two were in town earlier, you were constantly moving from one place to the next, and so, for you, the chances of getting discovered would've been slim then. You feel bad for wasting part of Hoseok's plan, but at the same time, you fear lingering among the crowd for too long and leaving an impression on them enough to recognize you as the runaway princess of Crete.

"I thought you were a giant bush for a moment."

You jolt at the sound of the wine god's voice, but soon grumble when you process his words. Hoseok stands there with an amicable grin, still nursing a goblet of wine. You, on the other hand, had been cocooning yourself in his cloak like it'd make you disappear from this place. "You take your cloak then," you snippily say, shrugging the mass of fur off only to earn yourself a chuckle from the wine god.

Hoseok shakes his head, hands guiding the cloak back over your shoulders before he goes to assess your expression. "Shall we get you home?" he kindly asks, and it makes you feel worse, because you didn’t quite know what you wanted.

"No! I—"

The wine god's brows raise at your hesitation to leave, brows knitted together in your torn sentiments while a frown rests on your lips. Hoseok resides himself to stand closer next to you and wait for you to compose yourself. "What troubles you, hm?" he asks, the thumb of his free hand easing the crease between your brows.

With a sigh, you look towards the merrymaking, the beginnings of envy blooming from within you. "I'd really hate for this to go awry in the end," you admit to him, "in case someone from here recognizes me."

Hoseok tuts, half-heartedly shaking his head. "Look at them," he tells you, gesturing to the crowd before you both. "They're all lost in their own worlds."

All around you were people lost in the music of the bard, dancing and drinking to their heart's content. "No one here knows who you are right now, princess," Hoseok urged like a demon on your shoulder—all in good intentions, of course. "What else is there to hold you back?"

You can't help but digest his words from where you stand.

You were forcibly shaped into the mold of a perfect, obedient princess for your kingdom. You were a scapegoat. You were a tool.

Then, you became an accomplice to a murder, an enemy on the runfrom your own kingdom, and a forsaken bride, too.

And now… Now what?

You have nothing but yourself to your name—no more titles, no more labyrinths needing sacrifices, and no more promised marriages. You are no one in this sea of strangers—of people looking to festivities to forget their troubles.

Dare you say it, Hoseok is right.

What need did you have to be who you were before?

A wave of spirit emboldens you to take hold of the goblet Hoseok was about to put to his lips, your fingers grasping his wrist to guide the drink in his hand to your mouth. Gulp after gulp, you down the whole chalice before a wide-eyed wine god, shivering a little at the foreign taste you've subjected your palate to. You've never tasted wine quite like Hoseok's before.

You finally turn your attention to your dear friend, somewhere between coy and sheepish. "Dance with me?" you ask, taking a hold of his other hand.

Such words pull Hoseok back to the waking world. He grins as his finger wipes at the corner of your mouth. "I'd be delighted to," he merrily muses, letting you drag him into the circle gathering around the bonfire.

Around you, people cheer, welcoming the both of you to the joyous dance.

The party's just begun.

Many often get themselves into trouble when drunk, their inhibitions set loose by the wine pumping in their veins. It loosens lips and control—reveals one's nature in some shape or form—which was why Hoseok adored the unpredictable madness of it all.

He's seen the many ways people behave when under the influence of his creation, and many were like you, who have the drink open the heart and unleash rivers of tears.

First, you had just been humming—a folk song from Crete, if he understood your garbled notes correctly—but then you had started nuzzling your head into his neck. The motion tickles him, makes him chuckle, but it was the sound of sniffling that followed that made him stop in his tracks.

See, by now he had been carrying you in his arms back to your little cavern, the stench of wine mixed with your floral scent hitting his nostrils. The wine god, for once, had controlled his drinking to ensure he could get you home safely. With your arms wrapped around his neck and your face buried into the crook of it, however, it was easier to hear your crying—easier to feel the wetness of your tears on his skin.

"Why the tears, princess?" He dares to ask, continuing his trek.

This was followed by a tighter hold, and another sniffle. "'m nothing without you," you all but whimper, voice small and meek but enough to grab his heart by the neck and squeeze it.

Hoseok tuts, chastising you like a child in the hopes you would hear it and scold him about that instead. "Nonsense, princess," he says, "That's not true at al—"

"'Tis true!" you whine and insist, shaking him by the shoulders as if it'd knock sense into him. It almost makes him laugh—had it not been for your next (drunken) choice of words. "I'd be dead by now."

Hoseok's frown was instant, but he waited for the rest of your words to pour in, walking down a path he’s gotten so familiar with in the past few weeks. The wine god doesn’t quite know if he’d want to hear this or not—if he’s worthy enough to hear it.

Nonetheless, he’s subjected to hearing it anyway. "Would'a gotten myself killed," you blubber, tears endless as you whimper, "but now I have wine, and a cave, and a pretty dress!"

Part of Hoseok beams with pride to have been able to bring such things into your life, to know that you found joy in the chaotic moments you’ve trudged through together, but a part of him also boils in a flurry of heartache and rage to have heard of this from you. Something in Hoseok burns.

The two of you arrive at your cave, the wine god intending to lay you down on your bed before lighting a fire to keep you warm through the night. Alas, your arms around his neck don’t let go, forcing him to hover over you with his hands on either side of you to keep himself up. “(Y/N),” Hoseok quietly whispers, one hand lightly tapping at your arm and the other guiding the back of your head. “We’re home.”

A hum comes to him as a response, you shifting only to press a sloppy, barely there kiss on the corner of his lips, catching the wine god off his guard. “Hobi?” your lips move against his skin as you speak, sending his very being ablaze all the same.

Hobi? The wine god thinks to himself in confusion. Is that meant to be me?

“Yes?” he dares to respond anyway.

Just as Hoseok thought his mind wouldn’t get any worse, your words strike him through the heart yet again. "You 'n Agrios," you sniff, voice falling softer and softer, "mean so much to me… Don' leave me, alright?"

You pull away from him, noses merely inches apart as you were looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes that shone like gemstones with tears. There's a furrow in your brows as you struggle keeping your consciousness just to wait for his answer.

Hoseok could only smile, mustering the courage to plant a kiss onto your forehead, your worried brows unknitting themselves at the sensation of his wordless assurance. With that, you drift off to Morpheus’ realm, head finally falling back onto your pillow and leaving the wine god alone to his loud, frazzled thoughts.

You mean so much to me, too.

The next morn comes and you awake to an outstanding pounding in your head, a hiss slithering past your lips as you try to recollect yourself. It's a near similar ache to when you woke up at the—no, this is different.

At the very least, this one didn't have the dread and confusion seizing your entire being—just hilarious regret that you, at the same time, don't regret.

As your reason slowly but surely comes back to you, you become aware of a weight in your right hand. With one eye open, you peek around to see the familiar rocky walls of your abode, and looking some more, you see a hand from the bottom of your bed intertwined with yours—a sight that very much wakes you.

Beneath a familiar old fur pelt, you were lying on your side, curled up near the end of the bed much like you would as a child. You muster the strength to lean over, your left arm coming over in front of you to serve as a resting place for your chin as you look at the person attached to the hand in yours.

Hoseok, the wine god and absolute menace, sleeps on the cold, rocky earth next to your bed with nothing but his cloak from last night to give him some sort of cushion. Like you, he slept on his side, curled towards you with a hint of a pout on his lips that almost tempts a giggle out of you.

The sight shocks you, really, and for a few minutes you can't help but stare, unmoving and unknowing of what to do. His touch sends tingles up your arm and all throughout your body. Your headache doesn't do much to help you either.

How does one wake a god that also happens to be their friend?

You settled for a squeeze and a light shake to the hand in your hold, his fingers tightening around your hand little in response. His dark curls, which frame his face and brush over his eyes, tousle as he shifts into consciousness. With a groan, he squints up at you, eyes adjusting as he wakes.

"Morning," you idly greet, the first to speak between you both. "Comfortable?"

It takes a second or two for your lighthearted sarcasm to register in his head, the wine god's hand slipping from yours as he stretches from his place on the floor with a groan, the motion showing you a sliver of his naked chest. "My back hurts," he whines in a mumble as he sits himself up, your eyes following him as he did even as you remain in your position. His voice is deeper, you note, and a bit hoarse.

You can't help the soft laugh that leaves you. "Why'd you sleep on the floor then?"

Still drowsy, Hoseok rubs the sleep from his eyes as he grumbles. "You wouldn't let go of my hand when I tried to leave," he tells you, playfully squinting at you with an accusatory glare as his statement sends a furious blush across your cheeks.

"Oh."

You did what?!

Truth be told, you don't recall much of the night that transpired after you brazenly chose to forgo all your inhibitions and join the fray in the dancing and drinking. What sort of ridiculous things did you get yourself into?!

The wine god watched as a flurry of confusion, mortification, and embarrassment passed through your face in a matter of seconds. A part of him, he must admit, is disappointed you don't remember the words you told him last night on your way home—of the kiss you planted on the corner of his lips that still lingers if he lets his thoughts wander too far.

For his sake and yours, Hoseok directs the conversation forward. "So," he quips, leaning in as if to gossip. "Did you enjoy the merrymaking, princess?"

He watched as a smile instantly made it to your face, one you try and fail to bite back. Your hand reaches to cover your mouth as if it'd fare against the grin that was hurting your cheeks. “That was the most fun I’ve ever had in my life,” you eventually admit, the words as shy yet elated as the giggle that stifles through your lips. You recall the addicting feeling of thrill—the carefree laughter, the silly dancing, and the sweet, sweet wine.

Hoseok's grin is instant, his heart full and beating quickly at the successful fruits of his labor. He is right after all. Happiness looks gorgeous on you. “Oh, look at you, you poor thing,” he jests as he beams. "I told you we would have fun and you wouldn’t believe me!"

You roll your eyes at his teasing, sitting up from the bed. “Here I was,” you jokingly sigh and shake your head, “about to thank you for what you did.”

The wine god crosses his arms over your knees, leaning forward to comically wiggle his brows at you. “I don’t need a thank you,” he coos in a ridiculously suave manner. “Your smile is enough.”

Biting back a grin, you resort to pinching his cheeks. “You’re such a sap,” you tell him, pushing him off your knees and falling back to the sheets as you feel another wave of headache coming to hit you.

Hoseok only grins, lifting himself up to take a seat on the bed next to you. Without much thought, he reaches forth to brush away the stray hairs that flew over your face when you laid back.

Whether or not you minded his gesture, you don’t make note of it, simply letting a quiet groan past your lips. "My head hurts though," you whine, eyes falling shut.

"It happens," Hoseok hums, partly apologetic. Mortals get drunk more easily than gods, and you were drinking enough to be slurring confessions to him in the late hours of the night.

For your sake, the wine god decidedly stands to help you with your hangover, hands brushing down your arms to seize your hands and encourage you to get up along with him. "Fortunately for you," he sings, pulling you up onto your feet—only to have you crash onto his chest. "I know someone who has a remedy for that."

You squint at him, somewhat suspicious, but nonetheless loop your arm around his, heavily leaning against his side as the two of you leave. Anything to gladly get the headache over with.

As it always is with Hoseok, this was another surprise.

(You suppose it’d be best for you to get used to such things, now that Hoseok has revealed his true nature to you. This, undoubtedly, would only be the beginning.)

Someone begrudgingly opens the door to a dwelling carved into the mountain, quite a bit far from your cave which led to Hoseok carrying you on his back halfway through. Peculiarly, faint yet janky music comes from inside, but even more peculiar is the pale man before you.

His presence definitely sobers you just a little bit more. He has the same ethereal, otherworldly glow as Hoseok tends to pose, and yet also different. His golden locks nearly shine in the sunlight—almost as if the sun focused solely on him.

Next to you, however, Hoseok also seems to be taken aback, but his was more so a bewildered shock. "Yoongi?"

Feline eyes that had been drenched with sleepy exhaustion and glaring at Hoseok turned confused and alarmed at the name used to address him. It was only when the stranger's eyes landed a good look at you as you stepped down from the wine god's hold that a flicker of understanding crossed his face. “Got yourself drunk again, hm?” Yoongi then amusingly says, “and with a friend too.”

Hoseok simply grins, so amicable with the stranger that it eases you enough to give him a timid smile and a small bow in greeting. "You seem a little intoxicated yourself," the wine god muses as you bashfully address his friend. "I suppose that means the remedy is at hand already?"

Yoongi simply sighs in defeat and wordlessly invites the two of you in, leaving the door open for Hoseok to guide you inside. The inside is definitely much better than your measly little cave with the house carved deeper into the mountain than you initially thought. Intricately chiseled furniture and decor fill the spaces in between, and before a fireplace lay… a satyr fiddling with a pan flute?

Suddenly, your headache was the last thing on your mind.

"Silenus!" Hoseok's gleeful laughter booms and startles you out of your stupor, watching as the wine god opens his arms wide to the delirious satyr. Silenus, finally registering the wine god's presence, grins and gets up, nearly stumbling over himself.

"My boy, welcome!"

It was only a matter of time before the satyr's eyes landed on you—they twinkle with mischief and amusement.

"Good morning," you could only greet, standing idly.

You couldn't help the fidgeting brought by your awkward and wary nature, doing your best not to rudely stare at the hooves he had for feet. Like the nymphs, you've never seen such creatures in person before, only heard of them from the stories of servants, or from the scholars in the palace who frowned upon the wild and lustful life these beings lived.

"She's the princess," a voice from behind you knowingly informs him. Yoongi, you realize, stands not far from you, leaning against a wall as he watches the whole scene unfold.

You can't help the startled confusion. How does he know you?

The words, however, do click in Silenus' head. "Ah! The one you've been blabbering about?" he smugly jests with a nudge to Hoseok's side, earning a flustered look of shock from you as he offers you a nod of acknowledgement. "You are a pretty one, if I must say, my lady."

You nearly choke on your own spit. "Thank you," you stammer, as you steal a glance at the wine god next to him. Hoseok speaks of you in such a way?

Hoseok gladly took over the conversation then, not meeting your eyes as a blush came to his cheeks. "Alright, that's enough," he hurriedly grumbles, pulling out one of the nearby chairs of a table as he addresses the blond. "Yoongi, you know well what we're all in need of, yes?"

Silenus simply chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender as Hoseok gently ushers you to sit on the chair. "It's quite fortunate Yoongi here is around for us, aye?" he boisterously laughs, ushering Yoongi to follow him. "Come along, boy. Let us make breakfast, too."

You watch as the old satyr and the pale stranger moves about into the makeshift kitchen of his abode. "He's the one that raised me," Hoseok, next to you, leans in and whispers as he takes his seat at the table. "Don't mind him and his silly teasing. He simply wants to embarrass me."

A hum leaves your lips as you nod, faintly recalling the tale he shared with you yesterday. Silenus took the wine god in as a babe and raised him to be the rambunctious man he is today. You certainly see the resemblance between them action-wise.

In spite of the satyr's sleazy mannerisms and faint stench of wine and ale, you see the hints of his fatherly care in the way he brought out barley bread, cheese, fruits, and leftover meat for breakfast onto the table. He places a kind, grateful pat on Hoseok's back as the wine god lays out plates, and thanks Yoongi when he comes to the table with the remedy you've been hearing so much about.

(Envy festers within you. You were used to a different sort of a father.)

Even in the way he gingerly hands you three your respective wooden chalices, did you feel soft yet numb. "Here you go, princess," Silenus grins at you, "Yoongi's specialty."

"Thank you," you say as you gratefully take the cup from him, still timid as you look over to Hoseok for some guidance on what to do next. With everyone now sat at the table, the wine god simply downs the cup he was given, grimacing a little as he does, but ultimately finishes it all.

Silenus notices your reserved nature. "No need to act stiff, princess," he warmly assures you, "Yoongi here is a skilled healer that works wonders."

The words catch your attention, eyes flitting to the blond next to Silenus who simply acknowledges you with a small nod—just as reserved as you, it seems.

Healer? Is he the one Hoseok asked to heal me?

Nonetheless, you simply give them a bashful smile, finally bringing the cup closer to inspect it. The smell of it is an odd mix of spices and things you can't quite put your finger on, and, frankly, you think it better for you to not know. Brazenly, you bring it to your lips and—finally—drink. Like Hoseok, you wince at the strange concoction, but eventually manage to gulp it down.

Oddly, you do feel a bit better already. You take a sip of some more, eyeing the reclusive blond quietly making himself a sandwich. A skilled healer, hm?

"So," Silenus suddenly claps his hands together, knocking you out of your stupor as the satyr addresses both you and his fostered son. "When are you two getting married?"

You sputter out some of the tonic in your shock, and in panic of that, you almost choke trying to salvage any more of the drinks from falling from your lips. Hoseok, too, panics, handing you a nearby towel to wipe your lips with as he rubs circles onto your back.

"Silenus!"

The blond stranger and the old satyr only laugh and smile.

Silenus turned out to be a cheeky man fond of jokes, teasing, and drinking—one with a booming laughter that you've now known very well to hear and always seen with a smile on that bearded face of his. Perhaps, that is where Hoseok got his mischievous nature from, after all.

Yet, the old geezer also has a penchant for wisdom from his long years—a comfort, really, as his words of optimism do away with your worries the same way Hoseok's does. Silenus also tends to regale with stories, especially that of a young wine god under his care—much to the chagrin of Hoseok, himself.

You find yourself fortunate to have met him, even if it had been under hungover circumstances.

As with Yoongi—or should you say Apollo?

(The gods have many names, but only one remains precious to them—or so you were told.)

You didn't think you would ever live to witness the presence of two gods, and yet you've dined with the sun god, danced with Hoseok to his music, and passed out drunk with him and the others at some parties. When Hoseok confirmed that it was indeedYoongi who healed you that day, you truly began to ponder whether there was something in your bloodline that gave you and your family such an affinity to gods.

Yoongi was quiet—similar to you, in a way—but brilliant as a god of music and arts like him is meant to be. The harmony he produces is unlike any other, and the words he writes for his verses drip with so much soul and heart that it makes you weep.

He would often complain that Hoseok was often a child he had to look out for, but you knew better than to only see those grumbles and not his genuine fondness for his half-brother's bright, carefree nature.

Hoseok is a stark difference from the rest of the pantheon, he once told you—being a relatively minor deity frees him from the heavy burdens and responsibilities a fully-fledged god is bound to, even if it does deprive him of his full potential to power and prestige.

The sun god continues his visits once in a while, sometimes to drink away his heartache or exhaustion with you, Hoseok, and Silenus, but sometimes to simply idle around the fireplace and bask in the small, hush conversations of travels, memories, and tales.

You, yourself, have taken to setting loose along with them—making wine with Hoseok and Silenus, attending more gatherings in the woods and towns, meeting Agrios' sisters and brothers, and befriending nymphs, satyrs, and followers alike. Every night leaves you tired yet blissful, while every morn begins with you waking next to the wine god that brought you along these merriments.

Something, too, seems to have changed with Hoseok.

Though you can pretend not to notice, you are not saved from the restless nights you spend lying awake in bed thinking of the wine god’s lingering touches—of how he constantly treads the line between innocent and intimate. Hands on your waist as you two dance, a guiding hand on the small of your back, a passing brush of fingertips to your arms—such instances occupy your thoughts, making your heart skip a beat and leaving your senses to fixate on everything else he does.

Unwavering attention to your talking, a gaze feeling like they linger on your lips.

Fingertips always unconsciously reaching out for yours whenever you’re close by.

Eyes almost instantly searching for yours once you lose one another in the crowd.

You find yourself liking this game, letting him come closer and anticipating the next of his actions, in spite of knowing how easily you can be cast aside by someone like him, a god who can get everything he wants. You indulge in this delusion every once in a while, but ultimately leave it to Hoseok's unpredictable chaos.

As winter approached and the days got colder, however, most of the adrenaline died down as you and Hoseok forgo the gatherings to prepare for the harshest days. Silenus had welcomed you and Hoseok to his home during the season, which was definitely much better for the harsh cold than the cave you and Hoseok tried to make use of. (Though you don’t exactly know why a god like him would want to bear the brunt of winter when he can easily go to Olympus or elsewhere.)

“There.”

Broken away from your reveries, you come to see Hoseok inspecting the thick wool scarf he had wound around you. There’s a concentrated furrow in his brows as he thinks whether the knot was secure or satisfactory enough.

“She won't die so easily in the cold, boy,” Silenus, who had been occupied with cleaning his pan flute, mused from his seat before the fireplace. A giggle escapes your lips as Hoseok half-heartedly rolls his eyes at his mentor’s words.

The two of you plan to gather firewood on your way back after visiting Aldora and Alenka in their part of the woods, and Hoseok insisted on the thick scarf. “It’s better to be safe,” he murmurs under his breath, as you roll your eyes and grab his arm to head out the door, ushering Agrios to follow suit.

“We’ll be back soon, Silenus!” you bid goodbye, waving warmly as you’re greeted by a cold gust of wind. Your breath forms a faint smoke of air as the icy sensation tickles your exposed skin. At the shiver that seizes you, Hoseok smiles as you bury your face into the thick scarf. “As I’ve told you,” he says as he lingers closer, “you needn’t accompany me.”

Stubborn, you tighten your hold around his arm, playfully glaring up at his smug grin. “And as I’ve told you, I want to go out and see Alenka and Aldora,” you quip, pushing him slightly as you turn your attention to the forest you’ve become accustomed to. The towering trees that had been a canopy of greens and oranges were now barren, their dark bark and branches a stark contrast against the snow and the blue sky.

There are moments where you’ve quietly reflected on the months you’ve been here, on how much things have changed since Theseus le—

Something cold hits the back of your head, a shocked gasp leaving your lips as you whip around to see where on Earth that came from. The culprit, of course, is Hoseok, who was forming balls of snow in his hands. “I’m hurt, princess,” he dramatically sighs despite his eyes glinting with mischief. “Here I thought you wanted to spend time with me.”

You dodge his next snowball in time, wide eyes now squinting at him. “Insufferable,” you grumble, taking a quick duck behind a tree and gathering your own projectile, landing a hit on his shoulder as he was trying to flee for cover. “Aha!”

An unamused leopard stares at the two of you, waiting for the two of you to quit giggling and running around with eyes of judgment. “Agrios, help!” you squeal, squealing as one of Hoseok’s snowballs struck your leg.

“Don’t you dare, traitor!” the wine god immediately retaliates.

You look over your shoulder and see him fully running after you at this point, and just as you are about to strike back, a root ensnares your foot, sending you crashing forth. Arms wound around your waist, pulling you back in time for Hoseok, who caught you at the last minute, to take most of the fall.

The two of you fall on your knees, a grunt and a hiss leaving you both as you recoil from the impact and the cold ground. You look at your companion, his dark curls much more unruly and his tunic and cloak disheveled from all the running you two did. In spite of that, he was looking over at you and assessing your state, adjusting your scarf yet again. “Are you alright?”

Hoseok watched as you started breathlessly chuckling and failing miserably at hiding it. This, however, was a sign to him that you were alright, beginning to smile, himself. “Truce?” he asks, watching as you grin back at him.

Your hands were cold with what remained of your previous snowball as you grabbed at his cheeks, doing well to squeeze it about as he gasps and shrieks at the icy touch. “Truce,” you finally affirm, laughing at his dramatic pout of defeat.

Funnily, even in the chill of the winter morn, all you could feel throughout was warmth.

𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿 ◁ || ▷ 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽

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

#bts au #bts greek myth au #bts greek mythology au #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts writing #jung hoseok imagines #jung hoseok fluff #bts jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #jhope imagines

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