#this is a plot point in The Knick | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justbelievinginmagic · 1 year ago

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ariadne's thread ⎯ pt. 7: the wild hunt.

pairing(s): hyunjin x fem!reader, felix x seungmin x minho if you squint, felix x fem!reader, seungmin & fem!reader, minho & fem!reader, bang chan & fem!reader, jisung & fem!reader series summary: when tempted by an intoxicating offer by hyunjin the goblin king of the underground, you fight against him to find your own sense of self once more while in his labyrinth. glimpse: Tumbling far into the Direwoods, you cant help but feel like something or someone is watching you, hunting you, in the never-ending darkness of the forest. will you be caught in their claws or will you survive the Wild Hunt? warnings/tags: inspired by the 1986' movie Labyrinth, follows majority of the movie's plot points with lore divergence, 3rd person POV, use of Y/N, no hyunjin appearance this chapter fyi, faerie lore, wild hunt!, world-building, pain, injuries, blood, bruises, cuts, canon typical violence, pg13 language, fear, anxiety, danger, invading personal space (like a lot), one-sided affection, kisses, licking, suggestive content, uneven power dynamics, magical choking. animalistic minseunglix, felix is down bad for y/n, clingy felix, tatted mINHOOOOO. listen, these boys are feral. eldritch horror felix, eldritch horror seungmin too tbh, werewolfy eldritch horror minho lol., let me know if there needs to be more tags! word count: 11.4k previous chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

The Runner’s fall was great.

Unlike falling to the oubliette, she was tumbling and rolling down the hillside violently. Her ribs and back thudded against wet earth and rocks over and over until she came to a rolling stop at the bottom of the gorge. Pain radiated through her body. Crackling dead leaves crunched beneath her as she tried to sit up. Her arms, bruised and scratched, trembled as she struggled to push herself up before, finally, she just flopped back on her back.

“Dammit,” she groaned, her head plopping against the mossy ground.

Her back ached, streaks of blood coated her body from scratches and knicks. Leaves littered her hair. Her ribs heaved as she took a deep breath. She let out a cough, a hand going to press against her stomach as a pain radiated there. Just a bruise but damn.

Everything felt like so much. Each turn of the Labyrinth proved she was alone and each time she was left crawling for her life. The oubliette, the cleaners, this. She was frustrated and in pain. Her arms rose up to cover her face as she took a trembling breath.

“Y/N!” she heard an echo of her name far above her.

Looking upwards, she couldn’t make out anything. It was like all the light from that grand rotunda had been sucked away. There was a strange cloak-like barrier between the woods and the Gardens high above. A darkness that clung like a fog to the tops of the trees, consuming them in a shadowy haze that ungulated like a wave over the branches and foliage. While the Underground was dark before, the Runner hadn’t realized how many false lights there had been. This place felt truly dark. So dark, she couldn’t see the form of Chris as he called down.

“Are you okay?” she heard Chris faintly. It was like the darkness truly was a barrier; even sound was muffled.

“I’m fine!” she yelled back.

There was silence for a moment, overshadowed by the hum of bugs and shuffling of flora. Then, she heard him reply, but it was so distant, so so far away.

“What?” she called again.

There was a noise from Chris that sounded like confirmation. Before… it was quiet.

And that was it. She was alone again with only herself and the murmur of bug-life and creatures of the darkness. She felt hopeless. The feeling clung to her chest like a parasite sucking out any hope as she shut her eyes once more. Wounded hands rose to scrub at her eyes, eyes that burned and a nose that grew heavy in her skull.

Crying won’t do anything except make her feel exhausted. Even more exhausted than she already felt in her bones. She breathed out, her nose burning hot and stuffy-feeling. She can cry later. She can cry later she reassured herself again and again as she bit back the feeling of cotton in her throat. But, God, did she want to cry now.

The Runner pushed herself up, sitting up with moss and mulch clinging to her clothes, and she took in her newest challenge.

The woods were thick and plentiful around her; large oversized plant-life grew here but, unlike the Gardens, they didn’t seem to be infused with magic. They were over-grown and lush – like it hadn’t been touched in millennia. If it wasn’t so cold, she’d think it was a rainforest. But it wasn’t humid here. There was a chill that clung to her and soaked into her dirt-damp clothes. The tall trees around her seemed to sway with their blue-shadowed trunks and twisting branches. It was so dark it was hard to really judge anything beyond a few feet.

Sighing out, she rose to her feet. Luckily, she hadn’t twisted anything falling down to the bottom of the woods. Her body simply ached like she had worked out the day before or… fell down a large hill. After trying to scale her way up the hillside she had fallen from, her shoes slipping through the too-soft dirt and mulch, she huffed out a sigh and began her trek through the woods. There had to be a way out of this forest. The Runner couldn’t just give up. Not after all this.

Continuing onwards, she carefully walked around plants, climbed over twisting tree roots, and scaled rocks in her way. Footsteps squelching in icy mud. Bird-like creatures whistling over one another in the foliage. Heavy-wings flapped overhead but she could barely make out a blur of a form flying high in the darkness. Deeper and deeper into the woods, she continued on.

The darkness was eerie. The gentle sounds of creatures didn’t reassure her any. Cricket-like scratches of bug legs. Hoots of owl-like birds. An odd humming sound hovering around her. All almost familiar yet decidedly not. Like, they were from another time, their crows sounded deeper, more Jurassic and less modern.

Animals were around her, hidden and ancient. It made her feel gooseflesh climb up her spine. Maybe there were beings like that crimson creature and being of light that had attacked her and Chris here. Fierce and calculated.

She walked quicker.

There could even be people in the darkness, watching her. Was she even in the jurisdiction of the Labyrinth here? Was Hyunjin watching after her (and why in this forest was that almost reassuring?) It made her skin crawl and her thoughts spiral. Ideas twisted with fear in her head. Like a child afraid of the dark believing monsters lived under the bed, she began to see things in the dark. Shadowed figures with swaying limbs. Bulging eyes on her. Flickering of somethings in the corner of her peripheral. Tricks of the eyes making her look behind her every moment now. She paused in her walking and glanced around, holding onto a nearby trunk.

A bug scampered over her hand and she jumped away with a yelp. She tried to see what it was; all she had felt were thousands of little legs. But even with her face to the tree she couldn’t see. There wasn’t anything she could truly see around her. The darkness was too thick. Her mind imagined false forms and ever-watching eyes as if this was a haunted house attraction but… all she saw was dark. It made her shudder out a breath. Hands dragging over her face in frustration. She felt wound up like a toy doll, waiting for something to spring. Either her own self or something around her.

There was a flash of light to her left and she yelped, jumping into the tree. Her shoulders brushed into a fern; its sharpened leaves caressing her arm like talons. She shuddered and scurried faster away from whatever that was. Hoisting herself up another rock in her path, there was a flicker of something in corner of her eyes. Like a lightning flash, a light leak from a camera. She froze and waited, watching to see if it’d appear again. Another flashed by, rushing towards a tree she had touched.

(She couldn’t see in the darkness but it could. Her hand that had touched the twisting tree left a remnant of her. Of rubied blood, staining the deep-blue of the tree bark. Marked. Throughout the entire forest, she had left her trail in the form of iron-blood – powerful and tempting. And it had caught the attention of whatever crept forwards in the shadows of the dark.)

“What’s going on?” she cried out finally as she saw another flash of technicolor-light, closer now to the rock she had just scaled and crouched upon. “What do you want?”

The creature from before – the being of light – was following her. She reached for a nearby stone, nails digging into the rock. She tried to predict where itd be, holding her rock steady in between her fingers. Another flash to her left. The Runner threw the rock into the darkness.

It hovered mid-air, caught as if by a ghost. A whimper left the Runner’s throat as her eyes widened in shock.

“You really are a human?” the voice was unlike anything she ever heard before. Deep as the sea. Deep yet angelic and soft.

He shimmered into existence from the shadows, a whirl of prism light and sparkling magic. Golden tanned skin, constellations of honeyed freckles across his nose and cheeks, and fair blonde hair. For a moment, she swore it was the King, but his face wavered and formed a more heart-shape, softer jaw, a more petite nose upturned. His eyes were so so soft with brown orbs that seemed to swirl a pinkish glow. His smile was bright and made his cheeks glow. He tossed the rock up before catching it again, coyly.

Tendrils of bright blonde hair framed his face, dancing in a non-existent wind that made her look around him for the source. His inhuman light illuminated the darkness and she could see the forest just a smidge clearer. Creatures scurried away under blue-green foliage. The tree beside him crawled with moss and millions of multi-colored bugs. All these things lingering around her unknown, brought to light by the angel of a man in front of her. He looked like an angel, aglow in the darkness. A star of light as he smiled at her from ten feet away.

She couldn’t help but awe, even as her eyes flew to the corners of the forest she could see. He couldn’t catch her attention even while being the brightest thing in this place. He cleared his throat, bashful sounding as he drew her eyes to him finally again.

His smile grew and his chin tilted, pleased. God, he was a beautiful thing and she felt a pull towards him, like a twist in her stomach. Like there was a leash around her lungs pulling taut, urging her to move towards him.

But he beat her to it, eagerly. He crept closer. Lunging forwards with long limbs that if she looked at him from the corner of her eye seemed to elongate and shift. He sniffed deep through his nose, his chocolate-strawberry eyes rolled back. His body shifted with rolling and cracking motions; his back arching and displaying his lean abs as his woven shirt rose up. He sighed out before leaning onto the rock she was perched upon. Arms folded over one another as he looked up at her with an awe in his eyes. He looked enamored with her.

“You are a human - and a woman,” his voice deepened - if that was even possible. “Hello sweet thing.”

His fingers crept forward onto the rock, playful in nature as they crawled towards her ankle before he tried to swipe at her ankle like an animal jumping upon a prey. He jolted forward, hand reaching out so fast that she flinched and pushed back off the rock. Stumbling to her feet, she put the large rock in between them, only able to see his face and him hers.

He giggled out, the sound higher than his voice, almost hyena-like. There was a fizzle of magic and he was beside her once more. She shrieked and jumped aside to put him in front of her rather to her side.

“So jumpy; I don’t bite, sweet heart,” he hummed. “Unless… you like that?” He flashed his teeth, nothing monstrous about them. In fact, they looked pearly white and straight. Perfect. Everything about him seemed to scream perfection, angelic. Like he was the epitome of beauty – the male version of Venus.

“No.” she replied bluntly.

He pouted a bit before smelling deeply again. He huffed out; eyes bright and rosy.

“Oh, you’ve got magic around you, ancient type – like me,” he giggled almost childlike as he bounced on his feet, teleporting here and there before he was in front of her again with his angelic light.

“I’m not of magic,” she bit out, defensive against him.

He felt wild as he giggled again, moving closer and closer. His billowy white shirt seemed to spill open as he shimmered closer. Magic drifted off him like he was a flower and pollen drifted off him in sparkling dust. His smile was sweet as he leaned in as if he telling a secret. Y/N leaned back faintly. His breath was cold as the night around them, coming out in a puff of condensation.

“You’re a Runner, right?” he queried, his eyes flashed as he raised his eyebrows teasingly. “You’re protected by magic, sunshine. Goddess forbid if you were tainted by little old me while on your quest.”

His hand rose and he brushed a stray hair aside from her cheek, gentle and soft. Fingertips softly caressing her skin as he tilted her chin his way. He waited and she simply stared at him blankly. Brows crinkling after a moment longer. His smile was like sunlight before he cackled, the sound lower than the hyena-esque laugh before.

His visage flickered in and out of existence as he danced away from her. He was excitedly bumbling about. It was like he was a trick of the light as he flickered in between the tall dark trees. His form becoming blurry-like, like a light leak in real-life, before his form rematerialized again and again. He looked like he was made of sweet nightmares with how he frolicked, the only light in the darkness yet his giggles felt foreboding. With how he had prowled after her, she knew he was trouble.

“I am a Runner,” she nodded tentatively. Swallowing, she tried to phrase her sentence how Han had taught. Direct. Ask the right thing. “I need to make it to the Castle. Do you know a way?” That was fine, right?

The fae paused in his celebrations, looking over his shoulder at her. He smiled, all fangs this time, and excited eyes. “Oh, sweet heart,” he beamed as he whooshed to be in front of her. “I know a way.”

His hand reached out to grasp her wrist. He shivered at her bare skin under his hand, and there was a moment of pause as his fingers seemed to caress her skin with wonder. His breath was shaky, eyelashes fluttering. He looked up to meet her eyes again and he saw how she simply stared; a brow raised.

“You are protected; this is so much fun.” The blonde looked electrified.

He dragged her along, his gait fast and animalistic. If she had to think of a comparison, she thought he moved like a deer, swift and erratic at times. He darted this way and that; sharp branches biting into her skin. She let out screeches every now and then as the wood cut into her arms and face. All he did was giggle. He swung her about, waltzing in the dark like it was a dance floor and not a forest. He managed to avoid large bushes and tree stumps, his arms swooping her up and pulling her close to his lean chest.

“I haven’t heard a woman’s shrieks in ages,” he commented, his voice light and airy.

The world down here was dark, full of sharpened branches and tall inky dark trees. It felt like she was in Snow White’s Forest, frightening figures and darkened tendrils reaching out for her. Swirling and whirling in the dark. The fae man didn’t let her get caught, for she was already his prey in his grasp, dragging her along in a wild waltz with a snarl of a grin on his face.

He let a whistle out, high pitch and sharp, as he slowed and placed her on her feet once more. His hair was windswept, fingers grazing over her waist as he slid his hand down to her hand. Fingers intertwining with hers.

“C’mon, a chuisle.”

They were in front of a maw of a cave (not a path, not the Labyrinth she noted bitterly). Fire-smoke tumbled out in big plumes, turning the world hazy. He led her, tugging her inside. The Runner was slow, carefully. The fae man kept glancing back, a smile that felt less reassuring and more tempting engulfing his face.

Inside the warmed cave, there was a living space made of naturalistic materials all around a firepit, lit with an unnatural blue flame. The light painted the cave in long casted shadows. A table of stone with four chairs; a collection of coins, bread, a steaming piece of meat, and dried flowers rested on what looked like an altar in front of the fire. A pile of pelts was layered up in a corner, making up what looked like a large bed-pallet. Crude drawings were on a wall above the mussed bed.

“I really need to get back on the path,” she insisted to the other.

“Sweet thing, you’re a proper Little Red Riding Hood,” he teased, playing with her fingers. “Minus the red hood.”

The look she leveled him was unamused. He smirked, tugging her by her hand. She stumbled forward, her other hand going to press against his chest to keep her balance. His form was lean and firm. His lips pressed against her knuckles; his lips cool as ice.

It was strange how she didn’t feel… pulled in by him. He was attractive like Hyunjin… she had swooned before Hyunjin upon first meeting. But this fae… despite his prettied façade and his pretty gestures, she couldn’t let herself be swept up. She didn’t have the time. She couldn’t.

His lips trailed to the other side of her hand as he hovered over her veins, button-nose pressing against the inside of her wrist.

“Because I’m with the wolf?” she retorted dryl, her words not light and airy like his. “You said you’d help – you know a way to the Castle; I need to get there.”

“Because you were getting distracted,” he replied, nodding towards where she was looking. “Our altar of offerings. I like the flowers the most. My hyung loves meat – but usually something, well, more fresh.”

The meat there looked fresh – freshly-cooked that is.

“Not reassuring.” She said evenly.

“Not trying to be, sweet heart.”

He was still close as he invaded her space, her fingers still held reverently in his grasp. His eyes were locked on her hand in his. Fingertips grazing over her skin slowly. His lips pressing butterfly light across her skin as he trailed up her arm to look at her with those chocolate-dipped strawberry eyes of his.

She was not wooed and it made his neck creak, looking at her like a puppy.

“What’s the way to the Castle?” she said simply. “You’re getting distracted.”

He chuckled lowly. His breath fanned over her cheeks in a whirl of rosewater, coriander, and something sweet and musky. “Distractions aren’t always bad.” He whispered, eyes flickering to the Runner’s lips.

“Please,” her eyes rolled, frustration building in her.

He grinned wolfishly, his other hand going to press at the small of her back. Dragging her closer until his firm body was pressed against hers.

“I like you begging.” He rumbled, eyes dilating like a cat’s. An inhuman pink glow in their pupils caught her attention before she focused back on his sharp smile, pearly white and sweet. No fangs once more. He kept changing.

“I’ll play nice,” he conceded. “I promise to help you; just let’s-”

There was a rustling of the brush, her head swinging to look towards the mouth of the cave. A creature was prowling closer with reflective blue eyes. He looked like a beast out of nightmares, and there was a frightening thought that maybe these were the faeries that made up bad dreams. The faeries that had centuries of folklore written about to warn silly girls and boys from making wishes, from wandering in woods, from playing in faerie rings.

“What have you brought to our den, Felix?” the creature spoke with gnashing, glowing white teeth. Snarling electric-blue spit foamed and dripped into the mud as it prowled inside.

Like Felix, there was more that met the eye with this monster. The creature seemed to grow and morph until it was bipedal, until it was standing upright, draped in furs rather than being a fur-covered beast. He wore dark linens, blending in with the darkness of the forest easily but, within the blue light of the fire, she could see his features more and more clearly. He had dark-brown hair that fell across his brow, shadowed by the hood of what looked like a bear fur resting atop of his head. Purpled scars of claw scrapes and cuts decorated his handsome face, a long cut on his cheek bone only emphasized his strikingly blue eyes, shadowed by his furrowed brows. His lips were dry of the slobber of the creature he was before and instead revealed a scowled lip, firm and strong, as he stared her and the fae named Felix down.

He was defensive, the epitome of a predator.

Felix, whom still had her in his embrace, let go of her suddenly to reveal the red-blood on his palm. Blood. Her blood. When had he—She looked over her body trying to find where he’d press his palm against her to come away with a palm coated in red? A scrape down her arm had his fingers imprinted in a bloody scrawl.

His face seemed so innocent as he approached the fur-clad man. His blue eyes seemed to glow brighter at the sight of the red on Felix’s palm. A growl grew in his chest as he grabbed Felix’s wrist to pull it closer to his nose. That was when she saw the dark inky tattoos that decorated the new fae’s skin. Creatures of all sorts – some real and others mythical-looking - crawled up his arm in ink. A wolf’s visage was painted on the back of his hand in elaborate, delicate lines. The wolf’s eye seemed to gleam blue just as the fae’s did.

He took a deep breath against the palm of Felix’s hand.

“A human.” he growled out.

“A breathing human,” the voice that interrupted was smooth and crisp like a cold wind as another fae joined them from the shadows.

This time instead of being a beast he simply melted into existence from the dark. But unlike Felix, who danced between a technicolor-blurred form and a human-form, the fae had shadows clinging to his form like a cloak of never-ending night. She couldn’t see his feet like he was nothing more than a ghost. His hair was pitch-black and curled over his forehead, hiding his brows. His black eyes shone like the stars in the middle of the cold desert. His shirt tunic was made of the night sky, black shadows draping over his shoulders in a transparent-like cloth. His bared chest revealed with the sharp v of his blouse. He sparkled in the dark like his body was made of monochrome diamonds.

He waved with a curl of his fingers.

Her heart raced as his words processed. A breathing human. She needed to get out of here, she decided. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good. None of the other fae she had met had threatened her so openly.

A shushing. Shh, shh, shh. It was Felix’s voice, her eyes flashing to where he stood only to watch as he warped back to her side in a flurry of multi-color light. His hands cupped her cheeks fondly, blocking her view of the other fae for a moment. Her own blood was slick against her cheek, sticky between her skin and his palm.

“He’s teasing, little sweet heart.” Felix reassured before turning to scowl at the dark fae who grinned wolfishly as he passed by them.

“I’m not.” he deadpanned.

She couldn’t help but shiver as he passed; it felt like he carried a chill of night with him. Even the nearby fire flickered, its blue flames shuddering in a technicolor whirl of sparks before they settled once more.

“Seungmin, that’s not very nice,” Felix chided as he shifted her in his arms protectively. His arms felt cold, a freezing thing despite the warmth of the fire nearby. His sharp chin pressing into a shoulder as he eyed his Sluagh, as if pleading with him to scold the dark-fae.

His voice vibrated against the column of her neck: “He scared her; I feel her heart jumping. Its dancing.”

There was an annoyed grumble that came from Seungmin as he crept into the living space of the den. He didn’t sit. He stood beside the altar, eying the contents.

“Don’t play with your food, Yongbokie,” the beast-like fae scolded the blonde. Yongbok – or Felix.

She wondered if this was like Han’s name situation. Which was Felix’s Jisung? Which was his true name? Was he truly Yongbok or was he truly Felix?

“No, no, I’m not – look at her,” Yongbok chittered in her ear. “Look at her eyes, hyung.”

The creature-esque man prowled forward to look. He hadn’t lost his predator appearance. His eyes looked dangerous as they gleamed an electric blue. His hand reached out to grasp her chin, his fingers curling over his jaw as he tilted her head this way and that. Claws dug into her cheeks. The motion made her throat bare itself to the fae, overstretched and tense.

The Runner was getting tired of being man-handled, moving to shove her chin out of his grasp, and even struggling against Yongbok’s tight embrace. He complied with a giggle and only for a moment before his arms instead went to her waist rather than around her shoulders. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, loving the curves of a woman once more. She felt his hands caress her hips, sluggishly slow dragging over her form before tightening his arms around her middle. He buried his face into her neck, breathing in deep.

“See, Minho.” His voice was a gravelly low whisper. “She’s not enraptured by me. She’s not lovesick. She has ancient magic on her.” His voice was buried in her hair. She could feel his lips grazing the sensitive skin of her neck, all wet tongue and grazing sharp teeth.

“I do see.” Minho breathed, eyes sparkling as his clawed hand caught her chin in his grasp again. His snarl-grimace curled into a smirk. Almost pleased. The planes of his face turned sharp with the change, and Y/N felt her heart race at the sight.

“I’m trying to reach the Castle. I was in the Labyrinth before I fell here.” She spoke up. It felt like she had somehow been caught when Yongbok, or Felix, had promised aid. Rather than being helped, she was stuck. A fluttering bird in a cage, pawed at by cats.

The Runner didn’t see the wild grin Felix buried into her hair. Minho leaned in, sniffing the other side of her face that Felix wasn’t buried in. Picking at a tendril of hair, bringing it to his nose, he smelled deeply.

“You’re a Runner then. I haven’t seen a human in these parts in—” there was another deep breath and she swore she heard a rumble in his chest like he was purring. His eyes gleamed in the light of the fires beside them.

“A long time,” The one called Seungmin finished for him from his spot behind them.

She moved to push Felix’s arms away, the way they tightened around her waist reminding her of chains. Minho’s hand left her chin but not before he leaned in and licked her bloodied cheek with a roughened tongue. It made her squirm and jolt in their grasp. In a moment she feared he’d bite a chunk out of her. A squeal was on the tip of her tongue as she squirmed.

The laughter was low in the smokey air as Minho moved away.

“Let her breathe, Yongbokie,” Minho chuckled as he moved away for the Runner, and approached the table. “She’s the King’s; I’m sure he’s unhappy to see her curled up with us fair-folk.”

He grabbed a slice of bread she saw sitting on the altar, sneering at the cooked meat, and turned to watch the others. His leg propped up on a chair as he sat upon the edge of the stone table. He was always in a posture that made it seem like he was one moment away from lunging at her. Perhaps it was his unfeeling blue eyes, even as he smirked at her.

Felix grinned as he swayed her in his arms, “Even more reason to hold her close then.”

“Spoken like a true Gancanagh.” Seungmin’s voice commented. She couldn’t see him in the shadows, but the moving chill of air reminded her he was there.

Felix hummed pleasantly in agreement as he wrapped his arms tight around her waist, turning her around in his grasp. He leaned forward to press a kiss to her once-bloodied, now-saliva-sticky cheek, delicately sweet. She flinched back at the motion, squirming in his grasp as she fought his embrace again.

For a moment, Y/N swore he looked like Hyunjin. The slope of his nose fading into a different shape; his bottom lip plumping. In a blink, Felix was himself once more. He smiled at her sweetly.

“I’m not the King’s,” she retorted. “Let me go.”

“Jumpy heart,” he murmured, his lips against her jaw. “You can be mine.”

His closeness felt suffocating and she squirmed in his grasp, trying to move away. His eyes gleamed in disappointment, fire building in his chest. She rejected him over and over and Felix wasn’t used to it from mortals. She pushed at his arms, firmly.

“Let me go, please,” she insisted, shoving him away and stepping away with a huff.

“You are a brave soul,” Seungmin commented, walking up to the altar with a trail of shadows slinking off him. The dried flowers there wilted in his presence. She turned her head to look at the shadowed fae.

She swore she saw a shadow tendril, curl over Seungmin’s shoulders as if someone was hugging him or clinging to him. But the shadows that seemed to encompass him in a halo of darkness was always shifting, pulsating behind him like a living thing. His eyes hadn’t left her form since he arrived, staring at her with such intensity.

“Or dumb,” Seungmin added after a moment. He smiled; his mouth curled into a humored laugh.

Felix was back upon her with his affections, a hand moving her hair aside to rest his chin on her shoulder and stare up at her. His gaze burned her cheek like fire.

“Please, stay for a while?” he whispered.

Felix’s voice was so soft and gentle. Luring. It reminded her of Yeonjun – except Yeonjun hadn’t felt the need to wrap about her like a snake (but he had wrapped himself around Soobin.) While he was handsome, she had bigger things to focus on than a touchy faerie.

“I need to make it to the Castle,” she argued, moving to push Felix’s arms away from her waist. She felt nails dig into her skin as she pulled away from him.

Turning to meet his eyes, she saw Felix’s form shiver and shatter as his face revealed despair. His face merged and flickered; he looked not like himself suddenly. His features shifted and shimmered as they seemed to roll through different faces until they landed back on the freckled-soft features that she had met Felix with. His hair, however, darkened to an oil-slick blue-black, shrinking to a shorter cut, as if his displeasure showed through his appearance like a chameleon. He snarled a bit as he pushed past her to Minho’s side.

“He’s not used to his charms not working,” Seungmin crowed out, his laugh sounding like a black raven’s as he faded into the shadows behind him, tumbling back in giggles.

Minho’s arm slung around Felix’s shoulders as the once-blonde let out a whine deep in his throat. At the other’s touch, it seemed as if Felix calmed slightly, his pink-honeyed eyes that blazed with rejection rose to meet his elder’s. Minho’s lips curled in a smirk, reassuring the blonde silently as they settled their gaze on the Runner once more. Minho brought a piece of bread to his lips, crunching into it.

“I can’t stay,” Y/N reaffirmed steadily.

“How many hours do you have left?” Minho queried casually. “It’s been a long time since there was a Challenge. I remember only one other reaching these parts – and she was the last Champion.”

Now, that flooded her with optimism making her perk up. That was reassuring! She was on the right path somehow and if this other Runner made it, maybe she can too.

Felix buried his face into Minho’s shoulder. The older patted Felix’s bum, reassuringly. His eyes remained on hers.

“A few more hours are on my side,” she replied. “Did you help the other Runner then?”

He smiled with a laugh, the sound huffing out of him like a dog’s bark.

“No. We didn’t. There were others that wanted her though. Fire-creatures.” He commented. “A few hours left, and you ended up here. . . poor human.”

“I’ll only steal 30 minutes,” Felix promised from Minho’s side, eyes flickering with the firelight. “I can make it feel like hours, a chuisle.”

“He’d steal far more than that,” Seungmin’s voice was damp on her ear. She jolted away, pushing away at his chest (despite the fact he was still half-submerged in darkness beside her). He laughed as he tugged playfully at her ear making it tingle with the feeling of maggots and soil burying into her ear canal.

“You are a cute one,” Seungmin commented, his tone cool and offhandedly before he faded into darkness again.

Felix’s irises were crawling up and down her form as she rubbed at her ear. Minho’s gaze flickered to the darkness and then to Felix beside him.

“I think we should play,” Seungmin whispered in the darkness.

“Can we?” he whispered to Minho. “Hyung, please. She won’t break.”

The shadows climbed over Minho’s shoulder; Seungmin materializing from the darkness to stand beside the fur-clad man. Felix eagerly looked back and forth from his hyung to her in a way that made her feel like prey.

She was prey here, stuck in the wolf’s den.

It was quiet except for the crackling of the blue flames on the floor. Minho’s gaze was steady on hers, like a wolf’s on a rabbit in the brush. He finished his slice of bread, wiping crumbs from his fur and tunic. Large hands went to remove his hood from his head, each move of his was deliberate. He watched as the Runner’s eyes flickered from one action to the next, to him and then to Felix, then to Seungmin, finally back to him.

She didn’t let him speak first. When she spoke again, she was careful with her words.

“Yongbokie,” she began, hoping she used his true name. “Promised he was going to help me.”

Minho’s neck creaked with a violent crack as he looked over at the once-blonde who now edged away from his Sluagh’s embrace and towards Seungmin’s side.

The head of the trio cackled, echoing in the air and vibrating in the darkness.

“Did he?” Minho hummed.

“Yongbok promised.” She insisted.

Felix grimaced at her from beside Seungmin who grinned at his brother.

“I like her,” Minho growled out.

“Clever wean.” Seungmin muttered.

“I need to get to the Castle; if you don’t know the way, let me leave. That’d be help enough,” she reiterated. Her heart thudded in her veins as she looked between the three men. “Promise fulfilled.”

Minho’s cool blue gaze didn’t flicker from her. Seungmin’s stoic expression grazing the once-blonde with disapproval. And Felix who both seemed to be smiling and scowling at once. Impressed but angered.

Felix murmured: “I promised I knew a way. I didn’t say it’d be easy or free.”

“You promised to help me.” She said firmly. “I know what was said and who said.”

He turned away, scowling. Curses were muttered under his breath in a language she didn’t know.

“Play a game with us and we will help. Easy trade.” Seungmin retorted glancing at her. “It’s like hide and seek.”

Minho’s lips twitched towards a smirk.

“You run; we seek,” Felix continued.

“How is that helping me?” she retorted firmly, trying to clamp down the fear that was pounding in her chest like a drum. She had to hold onto what the fae promised.

“Help is subjective, isn’t it?” Minho commented, his voice sounding awfully condescending. “Help could be us keeping you here as your hours of mortality trickle away. Help could be us leading to the path to the Castle. Help could be us summoning the King for your capture. Or – “

“You play with us; we help how you want us to,” Felix chimed, brightening at his Sluagh’s words.

There was a reason they followed after the Sluagh. He was cleverness and instinct all wrapped up. Powerful both in strength and mind, he was ruler here and this was the reason.

“We haven’t had a Wild Hunt in some time, Minho,” Seungmin commented.

“Call it, call it, call it,” Felix chanted, almost demonically.

“How do I win this game?” she asked. “Hide and seek usually ends when the person is found.”

“Should we tell you?” Felix countered, pouting. “You’ve been so mean to me.”

“Yongbok,” he scolded firmly, making Felix’s mouth shut. Seungmin chuckled lowly.

Minho approached her, steps reminiscent of a wolf stalking forward. She stayed still, breath low as she tried to figure out a way out of this. His stare felt powerful and mythical. Like he was more than himself for a moment. There was a shuddering in the air, magic whirling in the air as the camp fire flickered violently. Embers surrounding Minho in a whirl of electric-blue light. He looked like a demon, like a mythical beast as magic flurried around him

Felix grinned and faded into the shimmering-flashy prism of light he could be. Seungmin faded into the darkness.

“Make it to the end of our borders and you win.” Minho instructed. “You’ll know the moment you see it, mortal.”

“And if I don’t make it,” she breathed out.

His lips twitched into a smile. He leaned forward so their eyes met at one another’s level. Blue magic swarmed his eyes until they were fully glowing, making them look as if they were fiery blue coals.

“Depends on who captures you.” He admitted. “Regardless, we will see how powerful that ancient ward is, human.”

Death wouldn’t let her escape the King. She knew that. But she didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to be hurt. He could smell her fear and it made his mouth salivate.

“Run, Runner.” He whispered, a low chuckle bubbled up in his throat. “I’ll even give you a head start – out of helpfulness.”

“10, 9, 8-“

She didn’t linger longer to hear anything further.

The Runner ran.

Scrambling out of the warm cave towards the break in the trees, she ran. There were hoots and hollers that were loud in the darkness. Spooking animals and creatures of all sorts. Rustling and croaks and crinkles of wild life echoed around her as she sprinted.

A piercing howl broke through the noise. Her heart sped up and she pushed herself over a rock, faster.

The Runner ran and ran.

Her legs ached already. Her feet hurt from the hours of walking the Labyrinth but still she kept sprinting. The soil beneath her feet was slick and deep. Sinking into the grime as she rounded a tree. Her fingers brushing past the wood as she tried to listen for Minho’s voice. Or was that howl him? Was her extra time up? Where were they? Where was she? She didn’t pause as she continued onwards.

The Runner ran and ran and ran.

There were no hints for a way to go. She was scared this forest was tricked like the Labyrinth was. Was she just going in circles? No, no, she had to hope not. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she hopped over a fallen log.

There were no sounds now – no hooting, no hollering, no yells. She slowed for a moment, panting too loud. Her heart thudded deep in her chest as she bent over as she caught her breath. Her eyes, blurred at the edges with white, from her exhaustion and lack of air. She looked this way and that way, hands on her knees as she breathed in.

There was no hint of a path this deep into the forest. No whisper of living beings. It was quiet.

So quiet except for her panting in lungfuls of air. No birds. No rustling. Too quiet.

She paused. Holding her breath. Listening closely.

A body slammed into hers violently, thrusting her into the ground with a scream. His body writhed against hers for a moment as she struggled against ferns and clovers and dirt. He pulled away as he crouched over her, feet on either side of her body.

“I could track you without shifting,” he commented, squatting over her. Minho’s lips curled up with pride. “Iron-blood is so strong once you catch its trail.”

With flailing limbs and knocked wind, she pushed herself through the dirt and mulch – until her back hit a tree. It didn’t budge against her weight, scratching at her elbows as she tried to use it to hoist herself up. But the creature-esque fae was upon her with a pounce. He smelt of wild grass, rotting animals in the heat, and rain-watered mud.

Minho’s grin was feral. His nose brushed over her cheek as he breathed in. His own breath was ragged, hot like an animal’s against her sweatied face.

“For a Runner,” he murmured lowly, a corner of his lip rising into a smirk. “You aren’t very fast.”

His claws tightened against her shoulder as he pinned her into the oak tree behind her. He had his prey and like a big cat he took pleasure in playing with his mouse. His eyes flashed blue as he raised his other hand up; the darkened claw-like nails glowed an unnatural blue. His thumb dragged over her throat delicately, slowly. Almost playfully. Scratching back and forth but not tearing into her skin.

“Clever but not fast,” he whispered. “Hm?”

He had arrogance in his tone as he tilted his head at her, faux pout on his lips. She struggled against his grasp again, dirt kicking up.

“Let me go,” she whispered back.

Their words felt loud in the eerie quiet of the woods.

“Humans have always been fair game in a Wild Hunt, written with our blood upon the ancient ruins,” he whispered as if telling her a secret. His eyes were steady on hers. “I wonder if ancient law overrules ancient magic. You’re the first human hunted in so many decades – and here you are cowering.”

His claw dug into her throat and she let out a cry, pushing herself away from him as far as she could. Blood dripped from the fine cut. It wasn’t deep (Minho was holding back, toying with her) but it still ached.

“Your immunity is the only intriguing thing about you. I wonder if you could survive my jaws,” he crooned, his hand rose from her shoulder. His fingers were gentle as they combed through her mussed hair.

His other hand that had clawed at her neck grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, a screech tumbling from her throat now. His teeth bore into many many rows of sharpened teeth.

There was a blur in her vision and she felt the weight of Minho get shoved off her with ferocious power. A body of light tumbled with the half-transformed Minho. An unearthly groan of anger grumbled from the tumbling forms.

“Yongbok!” she could hear the beastly growl that was Minho.

“I want first bite, hyung,”

Felix’s deep rumbling voice was almost poutful. But Y/N didn’t focus on that for long. No, she hoisted herself up and bolted in the opposite direction of the two fighting fae.

Around tree stumps, dark rocks, and hillsides, avoiding anything that would slow her down. Her feet splashed through a puddle of water, making her body jolt with adrenaline. Keep going, keep running. Where was she? She was running so quick there was no way she kept track of what tree or rock she had passed. Was she going in circles? Looking back, she saw no followers. Perhaps they were still caught up in one another.

There were tall trees ahead, made of pine rather than the twisting mulberry trees. She didn’t want to stop, her lungs ached but she feared that the moment she froze that theyd find her again. Turning to follow the path of pine trees, she wove between the large trunks. Stumbling over pinecones she hissed out as she stumbled into the brush.

“Fuck.” She cursed out.

Scraped knees and all, she stumbled to her feet and edged away from the pine needled cover floor. Looking around, the darkness felt like it was creeping into her. Tunnel visioning her. She could hear water, rushing water. It sounded close. She turned towards it and started to run, only for a grand flame of blue fire to burst forth in front of her, blocking her.

“Where are you going, chreiche?” it was growled out in the shadows.

She stumbled back, eyes wide. Her sweat gleamed in the blue light; hair wild as she looked around to find the voice. Her breath escaped in rough puffs as she moved away from the flames that licked at the pine needles and forced her away.

There was no Minho, no Felix. She swallowed, the taste of iron in the back of her throat and the smell of smoke in her lungs. She tried to gather her bearings. Maybe she was on the right path when the fire combusted in front of her. Was she close to their land’s boundary? She didn’t know. It wasn’t like she could win this game – she just had to escape.

There’s a howl in the darkness. She froze. It had to be Minho. She just knew it. Like an instinct hidden deep in her. She ran again, moving away from the flames in front of her. Feet moving before she could even think. Away from the blue flames that seemed to grow, following her to keep her within imaginary boundaries.

Rounding a corner, she stumbled as she came upon a large cliffside, blocking the path. It looked tall, creeping into the dark fog that clung low to the woods.

“No,” she cried out, kicking at the dirt before turning away from the dead-end. She had to keep going even as her lungs argued. She wheezed as she took a step forward. But she couldn’t breathe in.

Her breath was stolen, gone from her throat. Her lungs ached and she tried to suck in air, but she couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t she breathe? Her hands rose to grasp her throat; it was damp with blood – the scratch from Minho painting her hands red. She felt her own throat muscles contract. A rasped gasp cracking through her mouth. But that didn’t help. Hunching over, she gasped and gasped. Coughing at air as if it was water.

Until she felt a tug on her ear, pulling her up from her squat to press against a firm chest.

An arm wrapped around her waist, a large hand pressing against trembling lungs. He pressed at them firmly.

“Do you wish to breathe?” Seungmin’s cold voice queried.

She nodded, frantically. And like that, the weight on her chest lifted and she took in the deepest breath she could. Sagging against him completely as her face faded from its reddish hue as she sucked in lungfuls of air. Shadowed limbs curled around her, caressing her cheeks, poking at her wounds with curious phalanges.

The shadow-fae hummed lowly, almost disinterestedly as he shifted her in his grasp as he took her weight onto his chest. His skin was icy cold against hers and it felt good similar to the way gasoline smelled good. The shadows licked at her skin, pressing kisses to the wounds. Her heart slowed, thudding steadily as she gasped and gulped air.

“Humans are simple,” Seungmin commented after a moment. Dead man’s lips cold to her ear. “Your fates so easy to manipulate and snap.”

His hands rose into her view, and yet she still felt phantom arms around her, holding her in place with their cold embrace. She felt his smile against her ear as his hands rose to her eye-level. With a twist of his wrists, a fine thin black string materialized tangled about his fingers, pulled taut between his hands. It thrummed and quivered and she couldn’t help but feel her own heart shudder with its vibrations.

“This is you,” he whispered. “Y/N.”

She hadn’t said her name to them and yet he knew. It made a whimper climb up her throat. She tried to move but she couldn’t. Entrapped in his tendrils. Seungmin breathed out a laugh as he thumbed at her fate-string. She felt it. Felt her chest shudder like a guitar’s string.

“Its strong. Even stronger with the ancient magic protecting you from us.”

The thing glowed faintly, shimmering in the nonexistent light.

“I can’t snap it like others, but I can do this.”

He pulled the string taut, and her heart ached. She pitched forwards, the air pushed from her lungs unpleasantly. He giggled.

“Stop.” She wheezed.

“Intriguing, huh?” he commented almost analytically. “How long can it go before it snaps on its own? Can it?”

There was a growl from the brush. Seungmin’s eyes flashed up from the string to the foliage. He looked at the shadowed animal with excitement flickering in his eyes like fruit flies around a rot.

“Hyung,” he chimed, sounding brighter than she had heard him yet. “I caught her.”

There was a growl, a sound in between a bear’s rumble and a wolf’s growl. It was harsh.

Seungmin sighed out. Disappointedly.

“Threads were fair game before!” he complained.

A bark of a snarl echoed out as the creature known as Minho crept forward. Her thread disappeared into the shadows once more as Seungmin’s hands went to grasp her shoulders.

“I found her,” he argued. “I win. Don’t change the rules, Minho.”

The snarl was vicious this time, a thing she imagined only monsters containing the strength of bursting forth from his chest. She could see him now. Minho was a beast larger than the wolf’s façade he wore before. No, he was something that towered high above the overgrown flora and fauna. Raggedy battle-torn fur and large scapulas making his large head fall lower on his body. He looked like a creature torn between the agility of a wolf with the form of a bison. His feet were paws not hooves as he approached with a bellowing growl.

“Sore loser,” Seungmin egged on, like a child.

Were all fae so obsessed with winning? With being the best? These three seemed to want and want and want. Yet humans were the ones who were greedy – ridiculed for wishing and then placed in a challenge? The trio had turned their backs on one another over and over for her. Selfish creatures. Childish.

Minho’s footfalls became faster and faster. He charged at them. Seungmin’s hands rest back on her shoulders, squeezing tight. Waiting until Minho pounced, Seungmin disappeared from behind her and Y/N dodged to the side.

The beast slid in the soft soil, mud matting in his fur before in a blink, the beast was replaced by the humanoid figure of Minho, kneeling and ready to pounce. Not at her but at the shadowed fae who was being tugged into the darkness once more.

“No threads, Seungmin,” Minho growled out, blue eyes flashing at the shadows. “Cheater.”

The shadows shifted and moved like an ocean’s waves. Wiggling annoyed.

“Loser,” Seungmin countered. Minho lunged for the other with a growl aching in his mouth, needing to put the death-fae into his place below him.

Breathing in deep, she watched as their attention focused on themselves, ignoring her as she clung to the thick trunk of a pine. Slowly creeping away, she tried to keep herself small and unseen as she escaped the bickering two.

As soon as she was far enough away, she broke into another sprint. The forest wasn’t as dark now with magical flames of blue licking at the far distance of the woods. Blocking her way out. Water trickled nearby and she turned to follow it. It didn’t sound like a rushing river but more like a small creek. Maybe she’d find a path out of here if she followed it?

She ran and could hear the rustling of Minho and Seungmin’s tussle in the distance. Growls and grunts that she tried to avoid heading anywhere near. Rounding a corner, the pines had melted into large weeping willows with leaves of curtains engulfing her every step. Moving through them, she ducked and brushed through the flora with harsh hands until she was near tangled up in the tree’s long curtains. Pausing to untangle herself, she huffed and puffed. As she turned to continue onwards, she jumped back at Felix in front of her.

A maniacal grin glowed on his lips as he swung from a branch like a tempting serpent.

“Hi, little sweet heart,” he chimed, voice soft. He hung down from the tree, upside-down face to right-sideup face with her. “You’ve been doing so well.”

Empty praise given like whispered sweet nothings.

She glared and he smiled brighter.

“I should’ve kept you my secret,” he admitted as he let go of the branch with one hand, swinging like a sloth as he eyed her. His head tilted.

“Sharing a human isn’t my strong-suit and neither is it my brothers.”

Their bickering made her feel like a piece of meat between animals, being tugged this way and that as she is torn apart for their selfish hearts.

“You were going to keep me until my hours were up,” Y/N confirmed as she moved to run the opposite direction.

There was a fizzle of magic, a flash of light as Felix blocked her way with his lean-form. “No, no,” he pleaded with a gentle tone. His eyes were puppy-dog sweet as he reached out to her. “I was going to save you.” Empty promises, Y/N. “C’mon, come with me, and I promise you’ll be safe in my arms. Hmm?” he tempted, his words gentle and soft.

His voice was even a different tone, becoming something less deep and more warm. Sickly sweet, sticky. She glared at the oil-slick hair that seemed to glimmer in between dark and blonde in the shimmering light that consumed Felix. He wasn’t truthful. He had lied before. Promised before. And now, here she could see he was nothing but a snake. A chameleon reptile trying to eat her like a bug. Chew her up and toss her aside.

“I’ll take my chances alone,” she muttered as she dodged his needful arms and ran through the brush. Tangling vines, scratching palm leaves, and twisting roots stumbled and pried at her but she continued onwards. There were no forwards, backwards, sideways, or other ways in the woods. It was an abyss, endless except for when flames consumed her path.

Trapping her in this mess of a game board.

A shadowed figure rush towards her.

“Nothing escapes me!” Seungmin’s shadow hands grazed her waist like the fingers of a dead man – damp and clammy.

A screech left her as she stumbled away, dodging towards another path through briared rose bushes. Thorns scratched and clung to her pants but she pushed through. Flames erupted in her way, blue and whirling up with wild magic.

“I found her first, she’s mine! I want to play; I never get to play with humans fairly!” Felix’s voice sounded like glass as it shattered into a deep monstrous thing. He dove to grab her. His face distorted in the blue light and she realized he didn’t look like himself at all. Too many eyes, too many mouths.

She shrieked and dove to the side, evading his inhuman leap. Flames were hot against her sweatied form, making her arms feel like they were sweltering with the change in temperature. Icy hot to boiling cold. She kept running. The world around her melted from the unending darkness of the woods to this blue-casted jungle. Bright from licking electric flames consuming it all. She slid down a small incline, grunting as she did so.

“I hunted her down,” Minho countered, nearly inhuman in its growled words. There were loud footsteps, his paws thudding against the dirt with bellowing strides. She didn’t look back as she dodged another flicker of flame bursting forth from her right. “She’s mine.”

“No!” It sounded like it was all three of them crying out, different voices mingling into a cacophony of a growled inhuman gurgle. Greedy and selfish, they were still fighting with one another, arguing about rules of a Wild Hunt over the beating of her human heart and lungs aching for more than a second of air.

She splashed through a creek, ankles rolling as she dashed over algae-slippery rocks. The Runner didn’t stop even as she heard a howl, loud and angered. She didn’t stop as she heard the calls of Felix. “Swet heart, stop!” She didn’t stop when she felt the delicate fingers of Seungmin’s play with her heart, making it feel as if it was pulling and pulling and pulling in her chest.

“You’ve won, little mouse,” she heard a yell of a growl from Minho. “Return. Return.”

“Come back, human!” Seungmin’s voice pleaded.

“Leave me alone!” she cried out.

Return? He was crazy. They all were. She turned back from her spot high on a hillside; she saw them prowling at the small bubbling brook. Minho pacing, Seungmin’s shadows stopping at an invisible barrier, Felix… sobbing into his knees. She was free of them; they couldn’t cross the rushing water. She won. But she wouldn’t go back. No. That was a fool’s errand.

“Don’t leave,” Felix cried out, monstrously so.

He sounded unrecognizable other than the deep accent that he had. She swallowed before turning her back on them and continuing her climb. The trees were less overwhelming as she climbed, thin and branchy. Nothing was blooming and there were more half-alive things than alive here. The hill came face to face with a cliffside. Dead-end. It towered high above her with rough terrain, rocks jutting out this way and that and magic flowing through the cracks of dirt. High above, she could make out the beginning of the familiar brickwork of the Labyrinth’s walls as it was engulfed by the dark layer of shadows.

She was so close, but now there was this cliff. She looked back to hear Minho’s call. Taunting. “She doesn’t know the way. She needs us.”

It made her chest burn. Burn with anger. She didn’t need them, she didn’t need anyone. As soon as she thought that, something magical happened. A rope fell down to her from high above in the foggy darkness. Looking up, there were no signs of who threw it but she needed to get back to the Labyrinth. So, she climbed and climbed. Until a hand wrapped around hers and tugged.

“Y/N?” the voice was familiar and she thought maybe it was a trick of a fae, and it made her want to sob.

“Y/N, that’s you?” he queried again, heaving her out by her arm. She crawled onto the cobblestone path, fingers digging into the stone as she curled her feet away from the ladder. The darkness of the woods didn’t touch her here and she swore she heard Felix crow out, “You’re welcome, sweet heart!”, as the darkness engulfed their voices.

She peered up at her rescuer and her eyes widened.

A familiar face was staring at her with concern in his jewel-toned eyes. He was kneeling beside her, a hand on her shoulder. He wasn’t a trick. No, it was him.

“Han!” she fell into his arms, hugging him close.

She did it. She really did it. She was away from the dangers of those woods. Away from the shadows, flames, and embraces. No, she felt sturdy as she grasped onto the lesser-fae, burying her cheek into the worn vest of his.

“Y/N.” he breathed as he held her close for a moment. She was sturdy, unharmed. Salt-sweat on her brow, hair tousled, warm blood on her skin and through her veins.

Safe nonetheless.

When he had heard her shrieks and tracked her to the edge of the Direwoods, he had feared the worse. He knew the Direwood inhabitants were rowdy folk. Creatures of myth and legend live there. Hyunjin had hated dealing with them – even if Minho was a reasonable leader of his lands. How’d she end up in their borders? It looked clearly dangerous. Why would she go there?

“Why were you in the Direwoods?” he scolded, pulling back to look her in the eye. “Are you stupid?”

“I didn’t—I fell after something attacked us,” she argued back. “I didn’t know it was going to be like that.” She shivered. She didn’t know how to explain Felix, Minho, and Seungmin. She felt like they were true fae – which was funny considering she was amongst fae folk everywhere here. But Han didn’t feel dangerous like they had. Chris didn’t.

It felt like the stories of dangerous fae were written after those in the Direwoods, unlike the dreamy stories told of the Goblin King.

“Those woods are full of shifters and death fae,” he filled in the blanks, his hand going to push her hair away from her neck. Oh god, her neck was bloodied-red. He swallowed at the sight. Poor human. “Minho and his little clan of spitfires.” He spat.

Her ears burned. She had truly ran into the most well-known of all in the Direwoods.

“Y/N,” her name was spoken like a warning. “Did you meet Minho?”

She smiled bashfully up at Jisung. It did little to calm him especially with the half-there blood drawn over her cheek in a rune of old that read ‘mine’, and her body bloodied and bruised. His eyes only filled with horror. His breaths escalated as he went to grasp her jaw in his hands. Examining her eyes this way and that. Thumbs brushed over her cheeks, rubbing away the rune as they searched for a temperature. A fever of lust.

“Who. Did. You. Meet?” he held her head in between his hands still as he demanded.

“Minho, yeah, uh, Felix, and Seungmin,” she listed off.

“Did Felix touch you?” His voice was sharply concerned as he looked in her eyes carefully. “Y/N, you have to think carefully.”

She had yet to see Jisung this fearful – even when he was confronted by Hyunjin, there was never this tremble to his eyes as they took in her state of being.

“He’s a Gancanagh,” he worried. “One touch and you’ll be addicted to him.”

She didn’t seem addicted. He’s seen humans fall head over heels for Gancanaghs, destroyed and driven mad when the fae left. She seemed normal. She wasn’t crawling her way back to the Direwoods, instead her hand rose to cup the back of his own hand softly.

“He couldn’t keep his hands off me actually,” she admitted. “But it seemed like it was only because he said I was protected by magic?” she offered. “I don’t feel any different. Just scared.”

Jisung’s eyes that had danced over her cheeks, worriedly wondering if her flushed cheeks meant a fever, flashed to her eyes at that. She’s scared. What if he could’ve prevented this? The peach in his satchel was heavy as he leaned away. He swallowed softly; fingers gentle on her skin as he pulled away.

“Okay.” he conceded. “Makes sense – Hyunjin wouldn’t want his Runners becoming addicted to another. Okay.”

There’s a moment as he looked over her form. God, she reeked of iron-blood, her skin cut up from branches and claws; her poor throat bore a scratch; there were greenish bruises forming on her as well.

“You’re all beat up,” he murmured, frowning. “Goddess below, why’d you run into those three?”

“Yeah, but hey,” she shifted to show the collection of jewels – his jewels – tied to the belt loop around her waist, safe and sound. “These are still safe!”

“I don’t care about those right now,” he huffed, rolling his eyes as he tore at the fabric of his shirt, the hemming and more tearing away. His toned stomach was revealed, sparkling remnants of magic highlighting his abs. He then tore his hemming into strips of cloth that he soon began to wrap around her wounds. “You’re hurt, stupid.”

His tone didn’t sound harsh as he continued to care for her injuries.

“Where were you?” she queried.

“Trying to find you after you ran towards danger – again. You really need to be more careful!” he scolded her as he shifted her hair to one side.

He went to his belt and pulled a flask made of gator-looking hide. Han poured the contents over a rag before wiping away her bloodied neck before wrapping it in a bandage carefully.

“You’re the one that refused to help someone in danger and ran away from me.”

“If they’re in danger of their own making, it’s their problem – not ours right now,” he countered, leaning back on his heels. His arms rested on his knees as he looked over her form. She looked beat up still. He brushed the dirt, mulch and leaves off her back. Picking leaves and pine-needles from her hair.

“That’s the same thing you said about me,” she said.

“And look where helping you got me,” he huffed.

His hair fell in his eyes and he blew air to push it out of the way as he tied a makeshift bandage on her arm.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she admitted softly as he tied a bandage around her palm. “Friend.”

His fingers slipped against the fabric of the bandage as he spluttered a bit. It made her laugh, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his shoulder.

“I—I,” he bumbled out. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

“Y/N!”

A familiar voice cried out in the distance.

“Chris?” she popped up onto her feet, leaving Jisung on his knees.

“Chris?” he repeated after her, clambering to his feet beside her as he watched a hulking force of nature barrel through the woods towards them. Jisung’s eyes widened as he moved to stand in front of Y/N.

“Y/N, you’re okay!” The voice was joyful as Chris, shirtless still, appeared from the brush. The smile on her face was bright as she shifted from behind Jisung to meet Chris half-way. His smile was bright as he wrapped her up in a bear hug. Her feet left the dirt ground as he hugged her close.

A laugh tumbled from her as he squeezed her close, laughing in turn.

“You’re okay, too!” she exclaimed as she was placed back on her feet. Released from his hug, she could see his bared chest, the injuries from before had formed a shiny-matte-like appearance, healing into the beginning of scabs while they were parted.

“None of these are new, right?

He shook his head, his brown hair flopping about wildly before he hugged her again, burying his face in her shoulder.

“I’m so happy I found you – I can’t believe we got separated.”

“Its okay. I ran into some, uh, some trouble, so it’s probably good you weren’t there. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Jisung couldn’t help but let the shock cross over his face. Him, getting hurt. Compared to her? He didn’t get it. Y/N was clearly the more vulnerable, the one who needed to be protected here. Yet here she was babying this mountain of a man (despite their heights being comparable if Jisung ever wanted to point out.)

He cleared his throat after the hug continued for a moment too long in his opinion. The pair separated, one with a grin and the other with a cautious look beneath a furrowed brow.

“So, this is your new friend, Runner?” Jisung queried, flicking dirt from under his finger nails. He looked ‘Chris’ up and down. “Hello Chan.”

“Hello, Lord Han,” Chris murmured carefully, bowing his head.

“Lord Han!?” Y/N exclaimed, her mouth falling open in shock.

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spiritmadeofstars · 1 year ago

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Something to live for, someone to die for (Lokixfem!Reader) CH 1 [on-going]

Summary: Loki is looking for a powerful artifact. When he’s just in reach, one silly little Midgardian decides to fuck up his plans.

(female reader, nondescript appearance, non-specific timeline, tags will be added)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

NO use of Y/N, instead "you" and using a nickname

Words: 4,309

Warnings: violence, blood, adult themes in later chapters, 18+ (warnings and tags to be added)

Chapter 1 - A bird in a cage, of course (originally posted on my AO3)

chapter 2

Hey guys, so I am a sucker for enemies to lovers, but often find myself unhappy with the ratio being like 5% enemies - 95% lovers, so I decided to give it a try myself. You know what the French say “soo la voo or whatever”.

This is very loose in terms of the movies, I usually do not care much about sticking to the plot/timeline and this is my first Marvel fic, so I’m gonna do this free form. The reader is female, a part of the Avengers, appearance not really described (if I slip up I apologize in advance, I hope you can imagine yourself in there).

You were pressed against Loki’s chest and his dagger was pressed against your throat. Too bad your hands were tied and secured to your waist, otherwise you would have punched him right in his stupid smirk. In this situation, being tied up and all, blood trickling from your forehead and down your cheek, you managed to struggle a little against him, only causing the dagger to knick you.

“If I knew you were so eager to throw yourself on a blade I would have spared you the beating.” Loki said next to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin, it made you want to vomit. Either that or your concussion.

“If it’s a certain death and being this close to you the choice is obvious.” You managed to get out, though your speech was slurry.

“You wound me, woman. I am the best company you could ever dream of.” He turned the knife so the flat side of the blade pressed against your skin. Then he turned you around and pressed you against a wall, the point of the blade under your jaw. You could feel the sharp sting of yet another wound. “Tell me where you hid the artifact and I might consider granting your wish of escaping.”

“The artifact.” You said, confused. “What artifact?” Looking up, you focused on Loki’s face. A little blurry, but you could see the fury and blood thirst, his eyes filled with madness. You tried to think, but the thoughts kept slipping away like fish in a river.

“You don’t want to play this game with me.” He almost shouted, his left hand pressed against the base of your throat. Holding you steady rather than trying to choke you.

“This is awkward, but I don’t remember having anything of yours in my possession.” You said in a daze.

The feeling of his wet, sweaty palm pressed against your skin was too much, his closeness was too much. You were going to vomit if he did not let go of you soon. It was a relief when he did pull his hand away, along with the blade. You breathed out slowly, only to be struck by him, causing you to lose your balance and fall to the ground. Alas, you finally vomited, the spin of the fall sealing the deal. At least you did not get vomit on yourself. When you finished and managed to look up at Loki, you noticed the blood dripping from his left hand and a thought occurred to you. Maybe his palm wasn’t sweaty at all.

“You are the God of Lies, can’t you tell I’m not lying?” You whispered sarcastically, slightly offended that he was not clever enough to realise it on his own. His frustrated “fuck” let you know, that he, in fact, did know you were telling the truth. Content, you lowered your head to the floor. It felt like it was about to explode, and the cold touch of stone made it a little more bearable.

“Fuck!” Loki screamed and something shattered. “Fuck. Fuck you and your stupid weak little Midgardian head.” You closed your eyes, feeling at peace now that the man from your nightmares left your personal space. “No matter.” You heard a bit too close for your liking. You were being pulled up again, your feet struggling to find ground.

You were being dragged by the collar of your suit, two cold fingers found their way underneath the fabric, and though you tried your hardest, the back of your neck could not escape the touch. You were not sure if you were glad that the zipper on the front was slightly undone. If it wasn’t, maybe you would have been strangled before Loki brought you on his ship and took you with him.

….

4 hours earlier

….

“Can you hear me, Birdie?”

“Tony, this isn’t funny.” You whispered into your intercom.

“Oh, come on, kid. It’s not my fault Peter chose you a new superhero name.”

“In my defence, I called her Robin.” Peter said quickly.

“Eh, a bird is a bird.”

You shook your head, annoyed and offended. You did not care for superhero names. Thought your name would be enough, but apparently no. Just because you could fly and your uniform happened to be brownish with red details, did not mean you looked like a robin in the slightest. That was low even for Peter. At least he did not call you a bird-woman.

“At least Birdie is cute.” You said more to yourself, but the mic picked your voice.

“Hah, knew it!” Tony said triumphantly and Peter grumbled something you did not quite catch. You were trying to focus on the scene before you. The reason you were actually hiding up in the tree, (like a fucking bird!) in the first place. You have nothing against birds, actually, but the topic of your superhero name has been too popular for your liking today.

You blocked the intercom out and watched the men standing around near a space craft. Your Stark(TM) goggles adjusted the image for you and you could see the cargo hold was empty – you came in time. Just did not know in time for what exactly – is it just a robbery? There has been some stirring, happenings, around Earth but also on other planets, and it made everyone paranoid. There were countless theories, and that only made things worse, because everything was regarded as if it could lead to another event.

So almost every day, majority of Avengers were running around, patrolling. Today, you were called to a newer museum that opened in Prague, they acquired some previously personal pieces a.k.a. stolen and displayed in someone’s mansion. Looks like some families felt like they could share. All the items were already inside the building for at least a week, so it was suspicious that a disguised space ship showed up in the backyard.

It felt funny to you, that some space pirates came to rob a museum on Earth. But you’ve been watching them for the past 10 minutes and nothing was loaded into the cargo. Just 4 men, standing around, though you guessed someone already entered the museum before you came. It was all a little fishy, so you waited and observed. The deal with these patrols was – give it a moment and see. You started getting restless, so you slipped from the tree and made your way inside the museum.

Sticking to the high ceilings, you made your way to the hushed voices and found them in a storage area. Boxes with priceless artifacts and art opened and made into a mess on the ground. So they weren’t really robbing the place. They were looking for something specific. The five men were quick in their work, but actually did not break anything. Weird. Maybe they were enthusiasts and just looking for a souvenir to take home.

You were too curious about what they were searching for, so you decided to wait a little longer and see. The storage space, which was actually just another two story room with empty display cases and full of wooden boxes, allowed you to stay above them on the upper balcony floor. You noticed some boxes near you, unopened – they would probably come to check upstairs, too. You wondered why they left so many men outside, when they could have used the hands.

Suddenly there were steps that sounded like they were going upstairs, so you flew across the room and hid behind a case.

“It’s here, I can feel it.” A muffled voice said. “Find it.” It commanded.

You were lucky that they only had headlamps and hand held lights, but you did not have where to go, really. Oh well, time to call backup and – just as you were about to type a message on your Stark (TM) watch, something caught your eye.

In front of you, a box just like the others was open, filled to the brim with protective packaging material. Without thinking, you pushed your goggle up onto your forehead, so you could see it with your own eyes. A beautiful gold necklace with an ornate pendant just happened to catch some moonlight. Suddenly it was in your palm, the chain coiling itself around your fingers and hand like a snake, and a light shone straight at you. You sprung up to your feet and ran.

“Catch her! She has it!” The voice commanded again, and just like that, all lights were on you. You thought to yourself – Almost as if I was a displayed piece behind glass.

___

At least the glass walls of your little cage were cold. Freezing, actually, but your breath did not seem to fog it at all. You were on a ship, a space ship, with a small crew and their leader – Loki. They were all preoccupied.

“Tony.” You whispered. “Tony, I am in space, Loki is -”

“Right here.” Loki was right next to you, holding something in his palm. Your eyes took a moment to focus and then you realized he was holding your intercom, all bloody, and your watch, completely broken. “It’s not the first time I met one of you, you know.” He said, offended. You scoffed.

“Oh, I know.”

“Good, then you know what to expect unless you give me what I want.” He threw your Stark gear into the air where it vanished. You took a deep breath, knowing you still had the tracker behind your ear. You just hoped Tony had figured out the long distance tracking. Very long.

“Then please tell me what’s gonna happen if I do give you what you want.” You challenged.

“I’ll kill you, of course.” You rolled your eyes and Loki chuckled. “Was I supposed to say I’m going to return the lost puppy and ask for a reward?”

“That would have actually made me feel a little bit better, but now you ruined it.” You tsked.

“If you won’t cooperate I’ll have to torture it out of you. Works for me.” He shrugged and leaned back against the wall. You turned yourself a little, wanting to keep an eye on him. Your hands were still tied tightly and secured to your waist, but now your feet were tied, too. They probably did not know how your flying worked and wanted to be sure you weren’t going anywhere. Your started looking around when Loki suddenly leaned forward and looked straight at you.

“Oh, I almost forgot. You lost this.” He held up his hand again, and between his thumb and pointer finger was your tracker. You gulped. “We’re stopping in a moment and I just wanted you to know I’m going to toss it somewhere, just so your friends can go on a little trip. What do you think?”

You banged your head back against the glass. “Fuck you. Did you just rip it out of me?!” Loki smiled brightly.

“I am quite skilled with a knife, actually.” He walked away from you. You closed your eyes and tried to remember what actually happened. The last thing you remember was lights and running, flying, and then you were suddenly tied up, and beaten, and held by Loki. He mentioned an artifact… yes, you were at the museum surrounded by boxes. There were probably many valuable things around you, but you did not remember taking anything. You were fucked.

#loki series #loki laufeyson #fanfic #loki x reader smut #slow burn #enemies to lovers #loki x female reader #loki x f!reader #loki x you #smut #my fanfic

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inkblot22 · 1 year ago

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You Pull It Into Your Lungs

Tell me why I logged in to web today and my theme was no longer what I set it as?? Tumblr, please. I love you but we can't keep doing this. Anyhow, it's here! Part II of The Saltwater Beckons. Hopefully it makes sense, during this chapter I was just trying to set up a very obvious plot conflict for later.

This fic is for: anyone who can handle it! It is going to be more self-indulgent than my others, but I'm going to make a very serious effort to not describe any bits when we get to that point. While I myself am black, there are also no allusions to skin color (ex. "cheeks turned red/pink") in this either, although there could be.

TW for: injury, blood mention, bruises, lots of weird speculation about non-human sentient species, crude flirting (if you squint), some primal stuff but it's not written in a sexy way, Floyd and Jade Leech because they freak me out and I know I'm not the only one. They might be a bit OOC in this, I'm working on it.

The prefect was lucky that Floyd didn’t barge into the shower while they were ridding their body of saltwater and blood. The bite on their shoulder stopped bleeding after a bit of pressure. It was odd that it didn’t stop bleeding faster, like puncture wounds tend to, but it had already begun bruising, darker patches mottling the skin around the bite like some kind of warped galaxy picture.

They sighed and got dressed, surprised to see Floyd, still wet, waiting boredly for them at the door of the natatorium.

“I thought you left.” They said, a cordiality underlying the bluntness.

His hair dripped on his collar and he was leaning somewhat awkwardly on the doorframe, looking at them as though they’d told him the moon was made of cheese, “No. Let’s go.”

Floyd was walking a little strangely, stumbling every few steps and losing his balance, sort of like a toddler learning to walk. They watched for a moment, sort of confused.

“Are you… Why are you walking like that?”

“Shrimpy,” Floyd giggled, halting his movements so abruptly that it was unnatural and turning slightly to look at them. It was less of a beginning of a sentence and more of a warning.

That primal part of their brain screamed.

“Let’s just get you home and then you can keep trying to think.” He said, turning on his heel and walking.

Over time, despite the journey from the natatorium to Ramshackle being short, he did improve in his gait, but it wasn’t until they remembered that he’d been in the water that they realized why he was having issues walking now.

They felt silly for not realizing earlier.

Floyd opened the door to Ramshackle. The prefect never locked it when they went anywhere, since they didn’t have a key for the front door, and who locks a dorm building anyway? They walked up the stairs, took another shower to rid themself of the saltwater feeling, changed into their pajamas, then decided they wanted some tea. When they went downstairs, Floyd was still standing there, playing with various things in the living room.

The only sensible thing they could think of doing was screaming in terror and dashing around the corner. What was he still doing here?! They thought they were alone.

Floyd didn’t pursue, which was something of a surprise. From their spot in the hallway leading to several dust filled rooms, they heard Floyd’s lazy drawl.

“It’s cute how you wanna play, but I’m not in the mood for hide and seek right now. Come over here.” It was less of a request and more of an insistent statement. Not quite a demand. Almost there, though.

The prefect slowly exited their shoddy hiding spot and Floyd’s mismatched eyes were pinning them to the floor almost immediately. He smirked, breaking into a toothy grin as his eyes dragged up and down their form.

“Hmm. I don’t know why I thought you’d have sexier pajamas.” He said before turning back to the knick-knacks over the hearth. He plucked one of them up and looked at it curiously, “What’s this supposed to be?”

He threw it at them with his underhand. They narrowly dodged and the knick-knack made a heavy thunk as it dented the wood floor.

“You could have hurt me! And… I think it’s a whole avocado, but made of brass?” The prefect said, picking the heavy thing up. Crowley was gonna kill them if he ever noticed that spot on the floor. “And what do you mean, ‘sexier pajamas’?”

Floyd snickered as they got closer to him, sliding the brass avocado back onto the hearth. They looked up at him and he responded by slinging an arm around their shoulders.

“I dunno, Shrimpy,” he slurred, leaning far too close to their face as he hooked a finger in their shirt and yanked on it, “Land people are so uptight about wearin’ lots of clothes. The sexiest thing you could wear to sleep is nothing, like me.”

The prefect absolutely didn’t need to know this information. The revelation set a hot burn in their cheeks as their eyes widened, and Floyd spun them out of his grasp, giggling.

“Heehee… it’s so cute that Shrimpy is shy. Well, see ya.”

“Huh?”

“What, you want me to stay the night?”

“Oh! No.”

“Mmm-hmm. Grim’ll be back in the morning. Night.”

And with that, Floyd strolled out of the doors of Ramshackle. The prefect watched him go, grabbed a nice little midnight snack, then went back upstairs and slept.

Their dreams were fitful. The sting in their shoulder didn’t really ease as they woke up every few hours. The moonlight was blinding as they tried to sleep. Without Grim, it was too quiet. Perhaps it would be worth it to ask the ghosts to make some noise, but a glance at the clock revealed that it was around three, so they’d likely all be busy. It was a shame. Usually by now they’d be awake anyways because he had his claws out and was digging his feet into their back, mumbling in his sleep about how powerful he was. It was annoying, but it was familiar.

And familiar was not something they had often in this world.

~*~

The next day, as the prefect was wandering in the halls, lost as they tried to remember how to get to the mess hall, they bumped into a familiar chest.

“Oof!”

“Why, good afternoon, prefect. Where are your friends?” Jade smiled kindly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It never did.

“Oh, I stayed back so I could get my ‘special student work.’ Because I’m not magic.” They looked up at Jade, “They’re at lunch.”

“Oh, really?” He used that coddling tone he adopted with Floyd sometimes, “And why aren’t you with them?”

“I got lost.”

Jade laughed, somehow politely. His gloved hand curled into an elegant fist covered his lips as he giggled, eyes closed in mirth. The prefect laughed along for a moment and then began walking past him, and his eyes flashed open. He stared straight ahead for a moment, his brow furrowing ever so slightly before he grabbed the prefect’s arm and dragged them into a nearby empty classroom.

“Uh… Jade?” They mumbled. “What’s gotten into…?”

Jade hastily loosened their tie and ripped their shirt open, somehow without snapping any buttons off before he tapped his nose against the crook of their neck, taking in a deep draw of air.

Although merfolk, beastmen, and fae did not exist in their world, as far as it had been explained to them, things like this should not happen. They should not be getting pulled into an isolated place and… smelled. They very gently eased their hands onto Jade’s shoulders and he tightened his grip on their shoulders, enough to make them wince.

“Jade, what’s going on?”

Jade leaned up to his full height. He wasn’t smiling. His face had fallen into a very tense frown, and it made their blood run cold. He carefully tugged the clothing from their bitten shoulder off, sucked his teeth, then buttoned their shirt and retied their tie. When he was done, he grabbed them by the upper arm and silently walked them to the mess hall. Once there, he turned to them and regarded them.

His smile twitched back into place and he sighed, “My brother. Heh. Always so hasty.”

“What?”

“Your friends are waiting for you, prefect. Enjoy your lunch.”

They walked in, as he said. Generally, the non-human interactions they had with their fellow students were benign, such as Grim falling asleep if they pet him for too long, or Leona’s voice being growly, but that… that was strange. The prefect took a seat with Ace, Deuce, and Grim, glancing at the doorway.

Jade was no longer there, but the bite from Floyd somehow stung worse than the moment they got it.

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s0ulsice · 2 years ago

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hi I love your writing SO MUCH ‼️

Can you give a tutorial on how to write really poetically like you do? Like what’s your process of writing stuff that’s super deep

I really want to write like you do🫣

AHHH THIS IS SO SWEET TYSM 😭🩵

A lot of you guys have been calling my fic “poetic” and its honestly such a confident boost. To hear that someone wantst to learn from me is just WOW 🥹

But can I tell you guys a secret?

I have absolutely no idea how I do it.

what usually occurs is that I start writing and what's on my page doesn't even registerutil after I'm like 4 pargarpahs in 😒.

But for you, but lovely anon, I will absolutely give you a run-down. But please, whatever you do, don't try to model yourself completely after another author. Being inspired is more than encouraged. It's always a wonderful way to practice when you read other peoples work. But, a2ays remembe, you will aways find your own style. And that’ll suit you much better than someone else’s.

Promise 💙

(Warning. I have bad handwriting and I am dyslexic.)

1. First off, when I want to write about a character, I do a mini brain dump about all of their traits.

Let’s use my Lo’ak planning page I used to write him in my fic.

I start off by just listing some of his personality traits and little knicks.

Star points.

I think this is where the ‘poetic’ part kicks in.

So I make these things called star points. Star points are pretty much where I write down random objects, themes, aesthetics, and stuff that reminds me of that character.

Star points help me plot each specific point I want to make towards a character.

Putting it all together.

I use words from my star points to make scentences I like, or possibly drafts for lines I want to use.

For example:

‘Haze’ and ‘anarchist’ were both used in my star points.

And eventually, used in my fic.

Tips and tricks!

Use notes! They’re very helpful when writing.

I always jot down little points to help me out.

You can see how most of the things I used in my notes ended up in my fic.

I hope this helps!

#avatar the way of water #neteyam x reader #jake avatar #neteyam sully #neytiri #kiri sully #avatar fanfiction #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam

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silverwolf1249 · 1 year ago

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The pjo show has been super interesting so far, and I'm wondering what the show plans to do with Gabe at the end of the quest. And, I get they most likely made him less of a disgusting asshole to make it more kid friendly and possibly less triggering to people, but I still think they could've made him a worse person in the show without the implications of physical abuse like in the book. I also have a whole mini essay in my head bout the different portrayal of Sally in the show compared to the book and how that changes the dynamic between the two(and I love both portrayals), but I digress.

In any case, as it is, I can't currently find a reason why Sally would kill him by beaming Medusa at him like in the book. Like, he's still an asshole for sure, but not to the point where I can see Sally killing him instead of just divorcing him? Like apparently they watch/listen to the Knick's games together and Gabe's out here saying please and stuff(which made me have to pause and gape at the screen for a second because book Gabe would never, also the way Sally was like don't you talk to me like that was absolutely iconic) but like it seems more like they have a dysfunctional relationship rather than an abusive one, which I think is an important distinction from the show vs the book.

Maybe this will change as we get farther into the show, but right now I'm still wondering if they plan on following the book and turn Gabe to stone or if Sally will just go and serve him divorce papers after Percy comes back and she no longer needs him. Or if in some weird twist they'll somehow combine Gabe and Paul together and give him some sort of redemption arc and they stay together (unlikely but just throwing out ideas). The show has already made several plot, dialogue, and slight characters changes and I'm excited to see how this impacts things down the line.

#bit of a long ramble but kudos to those who get all the way through #pls let me know if I missed something crucial that would make Gabe more of an asshole that what I think the show is currently showing him a #Idk why I'm stuck on this particular change when there are other interesting changes but here we are #percy jackson #pjo #pjo tv show #gabe ugliano #sally jackson

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the-selfish-goddess · 2 years ago

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╭──────────.★..─╮ 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝔹𝕦𝕕𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕤𝕥 ╰─..★.──────────

A/N: I was in a bad place mentally and had to prove to myself that I could follow through and finish SOMETHING. So I'm shamelessly posting Lovesick Agent Yoongi with just a smidge of GOT7 thnx. (Agent! Yoongi x Reader) (Ft. Agent! BamBam for a split second)

Summary: (Angst and Slight Fluff) Yoongi is given a new job, as an expert in stealth and assassination, he has seen and done many things in the field. Although, he knows every dog has its days. It seems he's met his match in more ways than one.

(TW: Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of weapons, Mentions of Death, Mentions of killing and Assassination, Graphic descriptions of death.)

Drabble 1:

He was simple, he always was.

Like clockwork:

“Tick Tock”

He moved his fingers over the pistol, gliding them over the knicks and scrapes in the metal. He thumbed the edge of the holster it was snuggled into, thinking of how many skirmishes he has been in with his trusty, MK23.

He noted how rare it was for him to just sit and reflect like this; it was a strange, yet, welcome feeling. His instincts told him that there wouldn’t be too many more days spent with it in his hands, he just had a feeling about it.

“Tick Tock”

He breathed in deeply, inhaling the smell of the earth around his body. As he had always done, he removed the last of the dirt from the deep pit he had dug. Carefully making sure to dig vertically so as to not draw attention to the plot of earth he had just upturned.

“Tick Tock”

He looked up above him, wiping the beads of sweat from above his eyebrows as he did so. The circle of trees around him rustled in the wind, the sound of the leaves scraping across the forest floor comforted him in a way he couldn’t quite describe. He watched on, the stars shining above him unbothered by useless mortal affairs, twinkling in unison.

Somehow, they reminded him of the fairy lights you had hung up on his patio a few weeks ago. He remembers pitching a fit about them, grumbling about them being a waste of electricity. Though, secretly, he enjoyed the personal touches you added to his space, it made him feel alive.

You, made him feel alive.

“Tick Tock”

He pulled the letter from his jacket pocket, the one that had been dropped in the mail for him a few weeks ago by his agency. It was crumpled and worn; A small wallet-sized picture of a woman was paper clipped onto the outside of it. Its condition was pristine in comparison to the paper.

He still remembered opening it for the first time.

He had just woken up to the sound of his text messages going off, a lone number ‘7’ in the message bubble let him know that his next assignment had been delivered to him. He pulled himself from his sleep-filled stupor, his body aching from his previous assignment.

“Tick Tock”

He pulled himself back to reality and unraveled the paper. Trying his best to stay focused on the task at hand, your photo had fallen into the soft earth beneath his feet. He did not move to pick it up, instead, he stared at the words on the paper. Despite his best efforts, the contents took him back to that first day.

He had placed his long, black hair into a messy bun atop his head that morning, thinking nothing of it as he put his mug into the coffee dispenser. Ripping open the package he had retrieved from his mailbox, he was greeted with a cover letter of sorts it read:

Good Morning AGENT 7, HYBE HQ has asked for your full cooperation on a new project.

YOU HAVE BEEN ASSIGNED A NEW TASK, IF YOU ACCEPT YOU ARE REQUIRED TO COMPLETE THIS TASK IN 1 MONTH’S TIME, FAILURE TO DO SO WILL RESULT IN A BURN NOTICE.

By opening this seal and reading beyond this point, HYBE HQ will take it as your acceptance of this operation, and MIN YOONGI A.K.A “AGENT 7” will be placed under constant surveillance for the next month, and must report back to HQ weekly.

FAILURE TO REPORT BACK TO HQ WEEKLY WILL FOREFIT YOUR AGREEMENT AND CONSTITUTE A ROGUE STATUS, THIS WILL RESULT IN AN IMMEDIATE BURN NOTICE

Yoongi sighed, “Enough with the fucking dramatics.” He groaned in annoyance.

Breaking open the seal of the black manila envelope, he pulled a stack of papers free. His groggy form took in the envelope's contents; His eyes clocked the small, wallet-sized, photo paper clipped to the front of it. His interest was immediately peaked, you were breathtakingly beautiful. In his hands was page after page filled to the brim with crucial life details, he held your death warrant.

TARGET: Y/N, Y/L/N KNOWN ALIAS(ES): MIDNIGHT OR BLUE THIS TARGET IS CONSIDERED EXTREMELY DANGEROUS THREAT LEVEL : 0 (LOW NUMBERS INDICATE INCREASED DIFFICULTY TO AGENTS WHEN RANKED ON A 1-10 SCALE) PLEASE EXHIBIT EXTREME CAUTION WHEN IN CLOSE PROXIMITY. SKILL SET: A comprehensive list of known skills is included below. However, It is important to note that: HYBE does not possess full knowledge of MIDNIGHT's capabilities. MIDNIGHT is known to fight with an unregistered form of combat. Y/N is speculated to have created a martial arts technique unique to their fighting style. Through careful analysis, HYBE experts have concluded that it contains mixed forms of martial arts that MIDNIGHT is speculated to have mastered. MIDNIGHT IS LETHAL IN HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT MIDNIGHT is said to have ample knowledge of poisons and medicinal remedies. MIDNIGHT often uses this knowledge in close combat against enemies; They have been known to create lethal combinations of incurable and fast-acting poisons to dip their bullets and knives into. MIDNIGHT has extensive knowledge of various weapons and their uses. They possess the ability to dismantle and use their opponent's weapons against them mid-combat. TARGET HAS BEEN KNOWN TO ATTACK WITH A PERSONALIZED MK23 PISTOL DECORATED WITH A DARK BLUE COLOR AND HAND-PAINTED STARS. Avoid direct contact with the Target when possible, Stealth is essential. ABOVE ALL ELSE Agent MIDNIGHT is a threat that MUST BE ELIMINATED.

“I love the kind of woman that will actually just kill me.” He mumbled softly, into his favorite mug. A small smirk spread over his face as he took a sip of the black coffee.

“A burn notice, huh?” He thought to himself, he wondered just how detrimental your death was to his agency for them to assign him to you.

They had not only called one of the top seven agents, but they had also risked threatening his life with a Burn Notice. Something they rarely resorted to unless an agent had gone rogue or broken code. He wondered if they had the other top six agents on standby just in case he failed. He wondered if they would be the ones to carry out the hit on him, he had hoped so. This assignment was turning into an interesting one rather quickly.

“Tick Tock”

He watched you for days, waiting for the most organic moment to approach. It just so happened, you had given him an opening at a concert. He was dressed casually, an oversized black shirt and ripped blue jeans adorned his slender body.

He had paired his attire with his favorite pair of black Converse and silver jewelry. A small silver chain hung around his neck, with silver rings adorning each hand. He made sure to have his tattoo sleeves on full display, intricate artwork trailed up his arms, hiding the harsh secrets of his trade beneath them.

Your file described men with an “Alternative” style as your type and he wanted to stand out in all the ways that would have mattered to you; He still remembers the moment you locked eyes from across the dingy little dive bar.

He’d be lying if he said his heart hadn't skipped a few beats.

There you stood beneath the shitty lighting, a drink in one hand and your middle finger sticking out at the man in front of you. You stuck out your tongue at him, the sliver piercing on it glinting in the light. He was more than interested, the dude in front of you stomped away in anger. He knew his chance was now or never.

He wished that he had told himself to stop before you had gotten a chance to disrupt his life.

“Tick Tock”

You came into his life like a whirlwind, at first it was strictly business. He sweet-talked you, making you listen to sweet nothings as he spoke about fake adventures and very real feelings.

You spoke to him of your “Adventures” as well. When he would ask questions to deepen his understanding of your psyche, you would grow tense. Over and over again, he received the same responses that were delivered with a practiced ease.

You'd tell him that you had lived a million different lives, but you were sure this one had brought you to him for a reason. Each time you said that, you’d offer him a stunning smile that never quite reached your eyes. If he had been a “normal man”, he wasn't sure if he would have caught it.

Still, he thinks of the night it all changed for him.

You had just gotten home from another rave, one that you had forced him to accompany you to. He had been annoyed at first but figured that it would help give him an opening to kill you without having to fight you. He had gone with a hopeful mind, his knives concealed in a holster strapped around his ankle. He barely remembers the night, a drug-fueled haze clouds his vision when he tries.

You had just taken something, and he watched as you placed another small pill on your tongue. Pulling it back into your mouth and you smiled, your face filled with mirth…and something else he couldn’t quite place his finger on. It was a split second of vulnerability, then your carefully crafted mask was back up.

You reached out and pulled him in by the lapels of his leather jacket. He stumbled forward, his chest meeting yours halfway, and before he could protest, you had locked your lips with his. Your tongues clashed as the beat of the music pulsed in the background, the cold metal of your piercing against his tongue made him shiver.

You made sure to make him swallow whatever you had taken, and when you pulled away, your faces were flushed. You were both out of breath, and the tension was thick between you. There were hundreds of people around you, though, it felt as if you were the only two there.

He felt you shift under his intense gaze. In a brief moment of clarity, it dawned on him...you had planned this from the start.

You had picked the perfect place to test your theory, there was no way for him to throw up the unknown drug. The Rave was held in an abandoned warehouse with hundreds of other people, and he couldn’t risk leaving your side and losing the opportunity to strike. He also couldn't risk proving your suspicions of him correct.

The way you effortlessly played mind games served as a reminder of how dangerous you were. He couldn't afford to be inebriated around you.

The effect was almost immediate, things were amplified on this particular drug. He could feel the beat pulsing through his body. He watched the people around him become blurred, sweaty bodies danced against each other, and he could feel the sweat against his skin.

It was too much, too overwhelming.

He reached his hand out for yours, searching for some kind of familiarity, in hopes that it would ground him. The feeling of vulnerability made his heart race and processing this emotion was far beyond his capabilities. He was fighting to stay sane among the sea of people.

He felt weightless as he moved towards you. Somehow amid the drug taking effect and his subsequent disorientation, You had maneuvered your way to another part of the building. He stumbled towards your body, reaching for your hand and missing you by mere seconds.

He blinked and you slipped away from him in the crowd.

He tried to remain calm, but he couldn’t seem to get ahold of himself. Time seemed to stall, there he stood in the middle of hundreds of strangers. His body was trembling against his better judgment.

He had to find you and get out, quickly, but you were gone. He had failed his mission and The Burn notice would be issued for him after he told the director of his Failure to execute MIDNIGHT. If the Top Six didn’t kill him first, he was sure that he was going to die of a panic attack right there.

It was at that moment that he felt the gentle touch of a warm palm on his shoulder. He flipped around quickly, grabbing the hand that landed on him with an iron grip. He pulled the owner of the palm in close and there you stood, a look of confusion on your face.

“Are you okay?” You asked, a look of mild concern lacing your delicate features.

“No, please don’t do that. Don’t give me that look.” He begged internally. He doesn’t remember how long he stood there with your wrist in his hand, taking in each detail of your face. He only remembers pulling you, his savior, into a tight embrace. His racing heart slowly calmed itself, and he felt his shoulders sag in relief.

“You came back.” He whispered.

“Of course I did, I never left.” You mumbled back.

He doesn't remember much from that night, like where his Knives had gone or who bought whom tacos later that night, but he remembers the passionate love affair that followed.

He thought of those long nights and early mornings with you.

The lovemaking and the long-winded, 3 am talks, with no real point other than to hear each other speak. Those moments had made him giddy, butterflies would rise in his stomach at the thought of you. Something he had never had happen before. He was learning a lot about you, things that had not been mentioned in the papers he was given.

You told him personal things, knowledge that seemed detrimental to who you were as a person. You told him about how your favorite pass time was to chart the stars and map constellations. How, when you were a kid, the only way to find your father’s secluded home was by using the Andromeda Constellation, which was only visible an hour before dawn.

How you only felt comfortable moving and living by the moonlight, because in your words, “the stars raised you.” He even loved hearing useless facts, like how your favorite shirt was a thrift find that read “BUSH DID 9/11.” In bold black lettering.

He remembers you caressing his tattoos, touching the raised skin with a tenderness he had long forgotten. He had gotten them years ago to cover the countless visible scars he had gotten from his extreme training and harsh missions. It was easier to try and forget them when there was nice art on his body, he could pretend to be somewhat normal.

You kissed each scar littering his arms, complimenting them with a fervor he wasn’t sure he deserved. Your delicate touch and sweet words made him feel like a person again. A talent he was sure only you possessed and like the simple man he was, he had fallen deeply in love.

It was almost as if you had seen right through his shitty little charade all along. He wasn’t “Agent 7” around you; He was, and always had been, Min Yoongi.

You had brought color into his dull and monotonous routine. A routine he hadn't even realized he was trapped in until you had come rushing in. It was as if he blinked and suddenly, weeks had gone by. The Month was drawing to a close, like a moth to a flame, he hadn't even realized when he had started to seek out your warm presence.

It wasn’t until his assignment director slapped him with a dose of reality.

“Contact with the Target, codename MIDNIGHT has been established. How will you proceed Agent 7?” The cold monotone voice had droned on. He had heard that voice many a time, though, something about it unsettled him this time.

Yoongi stared at the screen listlessly, the silence deafening as the harrowing realization dawned on him. He had forgotten his mission, he had forgotten that you were the enemy. How could a fool like him allow that to happen?

“Agent 7, How will you proceed moving forward?” The director asked again, her flat tone slightly aggravated and impatient this time.

Yoongi snapped his head up, making eye contact with the director. “Accordingly.” He grumbled before abruptly ending the video call.

“Tick Tock”

You were incapable of love, he could see how detached you were from him, from your reality. Though, he had hoped the 4 short weeks had spent with you was enough to change your mind. He couldn't bring himself to harm the only woman he would ever love.

He laughed to himself, he liked to think that you had left him hints about how you truly felt. He’d like to believe that some part of you had tried to leave him room to judge who you were. He still feels as though he had become a fool. A simple little fool blinded by his love for you, that much was clear from the way he allowed you to slip past his defenses so easily…so quickly.

He loved You; He needed You…Not the other way around.

Silently, he hoped that what little courage he had to say it to you would manifest itself tonight.

“Tick Tock”

He shook his head, removing those thoughts from his brain. Pulling his phone out of his back pocket, he checked the time.

“11:55 p.m., July 31st.” He mumbled. Though there was no real sense of urgency in his voice, death loomed over him, like a mother watching her baby in its cradle. He had known it was time, he and death were old friends at this point.

“They’ll be coming for me soon.” He thought to himself. Digging his hands into the soft earth around him, he gathered his strength to hoist himself up onto the surface. Right before he launched himself up, he saw a hand reach itself into the deep pit, the mysterious hand was outstretched towards him.

He jumped back, no one should have known where he was, it was a secluded forest area owned by HYBE, and no one could know…unless..they were a field Agent.

He had braced himself for impact, “A burn notice this early?” He thought to himself, he was confused since they usually went into effect 30 minutes after being issued. He quickly fumbled for his gun. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight, not yet. He prepared for the worst until he heard your soft timbre. The sound of your voice graced his ears and a flood of goosebumps erupted over his entire body.

“Y/n.” He said softly, his shoulders sagging in relief, though the alarm bells that had set in still lingered.

“Yoongi, pass me the shovel, it’ll be easier to climb out if you grab onto it and I pull you up.” You whispered. Wriggling your fingers at him, your face peeked over the edge of the hole.

He wanted to ask you a million questions, but he couldn’t seem to find the words when he needed them. He knew it was an awful idea to pass you the shovel. Every part of his instincts shouted at him to listen, but he obliges anyway, unable to express his reservations about your plan. He launched it up, your hand gripping onto it and pulling it over the ledge.

You backed away from the ledge and he feels a familiar shift in the air. He swallowed the lump in the back of his throat, tamping down the unpleasant feelings beginning to surface. He knew what came next, though he had vehemently hoped that it wasn’t the case.

You were the one he wanted to love, he hoped you would give him the chance to say that, but, from the looks of it, he didn’t believe that lady luck was on his side today.

“Tick Tock”

The sound of a gun clicking filled the air.

His vision of the moon and stars was obscured by the barrel of a suppressor. The dark blue gun attached to it stood out even in the darkness and the hand-painted stars glinted in the moonlight. He sighed, making eye contact with you. There was no hesitation, no fear in his eyes as he watched your movements.

“You’re so smart Min, and it makes me fucking sick.” You said, your voice cold and calculated. “You knew this whole time, didn’t you?-” you whispered. Yoongi registered the slight tremble in your hand, “Who I was and what I was after…”

He smiled one of those bright, gummy, smiles that made your heart skip a beat every time. You swallowed hard. “Agent Midnight, let's not play stupid.” He said, his deep timbre ringing out into the night air.

Goosebumps erupted all over your body. His face showed no signs of distress, just a tinge of sadness and something akin to disappointment. The knowledge that you put that emotion on his face was causing a reaction of sorts in your mind.

It pissed you off to no end that he was the sole cause of your wavering emotions. There wasn’t a moment you could remember feeling like this. You don't remember feeling at all really; You hadn’t been given the chance to understand what love was…You weren’t capable of it, that's what made you such a wonderful field agent.

“Agent 7, it's wonderful to finally meet you. I’m Agent 0.” You said, voice slightly trembling as you revealed your true identity.

Yoongi's mask of indifference broke as the realization that his mission was doomed from the start dawned on him.

“The ever-elusive rogue, Agent 0, huh?” He chuckled. “Humbled, truly.” He said, his tone devoid of all emotion as he realized just how powerful of an enemy you were.

You were a legend of sorts at HYBE HQ. When “the numbers” were initially recruited, There were 10 total. They were all ranging from 0-10 based on their skill set. The lower the number, the higher the rank in the agency. He knows this because he had been recruited as one. Numbers rarely met each other in the field unless it was needed.

Of course, you had been seen as an all-star of sorts. Your knowledge was endless; Rumors of you being the "Angel of Death" had circulated during your stay at HYBE. No one knew what you looked like, only that you worked the most dangerous missions, and if you were assigned to a group mission, success rates skyrocketed.

You were an important and valuable asset…a dangerous and volatile one to possess for any agency.

It's said that after one particularly harsh mission, your psyche broke. After your stint in Budapest on a solo mission, you had come back changed. During your few weeks there, they lost contact with you, and with no way of finding out what happened to you, they had branded your mission compromised, and you were given the title MIA.

They sent search parties in an attempt to recover your remains. However, every party they sent returned gravely injured, If they returned at all.

HYBE was at a loss. During this time, they had done their best to cover up the largest fuck-up they had ever had. Any records of your existence were wiped from their systems. The few who remembered you were forced to sign NDAs and anyone who did not cooperate with HYBE was branded a rogue and executed on sight.

Eventually, they stopped sending search parties and assigned the other “numbers” to the mission instead. These were people you had trained with at some point or another, and they had the futile hope that maybe you would be receptive to their mind games. They started with 10, the least valuable asset HYBE had in their top agents, still deadly and capable.

His body was recovered only hours after entering Budapest, he was beheaded and burned to a crisp, and nothing but his charred remains were found. The only thing left to identify him was a single tooth lodged into the back of his throat from blunt force trauma.

His skull was fractured from what they were certain was a kick to the face, and the tooth was left on purpose; It was a warning. Despite this, they sent 2 more agents. 9 stood no chance, his remains were never recovered, and it's still unknown what happened to him. 8… well, you eventually did come back with her.

You had crashed into the front of the agency with your Black 1974 Chevelle SS, it's also said that the car was your one and only prized possession. You had mowed down almost everyone in your path, leaving a wake of blood and destruction from driving it through the front gates.

Everyone who lived to see it said you walked out of the wreckage gracefully; your body unscathed. In tow, you had the newly deceased Agent 8, her body was almost unrecognizable.

You had dragged her twisted and mangled frame through the halls of HYBE. Her body flailing about behind you like a child holding her ragdoll. You paraded her around like a grotesque trophy, to serve as a grim reminder of who you were and what you were capable of. Those who didn’t know of you or your infamy were running around to find weapons to retaliate. Those who knew better were hiding, praying for a swift death.

It's said that you dragged her all the way up to the Head Office and kicked open the door. You launched her body in, throwing it onto the desk of HYBE’s CEO before slamming what remained of the door shut.

It's still unknown what happened behind that door to this day, but minutes later you came barreling out, exchanging gunshots with the best of the best throughout the corridors of HQ.

Everyone in that room was maimed, everyone except for you. Those who had worked closely with you since your initial recruitment said that you were different... almost deranged. Any traces of humanity left were gone and your once aloof and easygoing demeanor had simply, vanished. No one in that room knew where you had been, what you had seen, or endured.

As quickly as the assault on HQ had begun, it ended, and You had disappeared once more without a trace. Yoongi had been next to go up against you, though he had never actually met you in person. The day he was to be briefed about his mission, you had attacked. 7 Agents remained, and HYBE refused to take any more casualties.

“Tick Tock”

“Y/N, you’re the one killing agents right?” You were quiet, your eyes zeroed in on his. He then heard another rustle in the distance. “You’re being watched, aren’t you?” He mouthed. Your eyes shifted in response. You stood there, the silence tense and filled with unsaid words, you were waiting for midnight, you were mere seconds away from finishing your mission.

“Midnight, finish the job so I can report back to HQ.” A man's voice sounded from the trees.

“It’s 11:59, hold your fucking horses BamBam, I have a reputation to uphold.” You snap back, your voice was even and calm.

“Right, right, you only kill at midnight." He said, nodding his head. "Well, IT'S FUCKING MIDNIGHT, MIDNIGHT.” He whisper shouted. "And I don't feel like being caught in enemy territory over your reputation." You flicked him off, never turning around to gauge his reaction.

“Tick Tock”

You looked away from where yoongi stood, his pleading gaze was hurting your heart. Without any more hesitation, you pulled the trigger. A small “fwip” noise filled the air as you did so.

A burning pain shot through Yoongi’s body, it was unlike anything he had ever felt before, it was excruciating. It was then, that he remembered the papers he was given. You dipped all your bullets in poison, his death would be quick but agonizing. He bit his tongue, not wanting to show weakness in his last moments. He never moved to reach for his gun, he would allow you to hurt him, but he couldn’t bring himself to hurt you.

He slumped down in the hole, his vision was going blurry, and he could feel his heart rate slowing. His gaze never wavered, making sure to keep you in his sight. He watched as your figure doubled and he mouthed out three of the last words he would ever say before he allowed death’s embrace to swallow him whole.

“I love you.” He choked out.

He watched your blurry visage mouth out five distinct words. “I love you too, yoongi.” and just like that his world faded to black, with a sad smile spread across his face.

“It's done.” You grumbled, looking away from the hole.

It made you visibly ill to watch him writhe in agony, something that was never an issue before; You would have nightmares about this for sure. You pulled a small barely visible paper from your pocket and tossed it into the hole, and it landed with a small thud on his chest.

“Good Job Midnight lets's report back to HQ and get you that promotion.” with that, you left the only man you would ever love behind, his body cramped into a grave he had dug himself.

“Tick Tock”

Shortly after, a group of men found his body. Shaking their heads at their fallen comrade.

“Midnight took another one,” Agent 1 mumbled, he was used to cleaning up after Agent 0 by now, he just didn’t expect Agent 7 to fall so easily. After checking the body for a pulse he confirmed Agent 7’s death. He let out a ‘tsk’ noise, the frustration setting in since he had kind of looked forward to the thrill of hunting Agent 7. “Come on, let's report to HQ about his failure and collect the Burn Notice reward.” They all moved quickly, racing to get back to HYBE to collect the reward.

“Tick Tock”

An hour later, Yoongi’s body shifted. He woke up with a strangled gasp. Groaning as he touched his body with a panicked fervor. It felt like a massive bus had landed on top of him, and his chest was burning from how quickly his heart was pumping. The paper on his chest was the first thing he grasped as his confusion set in, he should be dead. He felt you kill him, he. should. be. dead.

He fumbled with the small folded note, yanking it open in hopes it would have answers. Your distinct handwriting was on it, it read as follows:

“I hope you can forgive me for hurting you. I shot you at a non-vital point with a bullet coated in a poison I designed myself, I named it “Lover’s Paradise.” It's meant to paralyze you for several hours and place you in a sleep so deep that your heart rate is essentially undetectable. Anyone who sees you would classify your body as deceased.

Min yoongi, you’ve been dramatic since I met you. I have tried countless times to kill you since we met. I knew who had sent you and why. I knew who you were from the moment we met at the Dive bar. Still, I couldn't bring myself to hurt you. (despite my best efforts) Instead, I tried to make myself hard to love, I tried to keep you at arm's length. Though, somehow, you broke through my defenses. Your effortless way of loving me despite my flaws is what made me love you. I never lied to you, I showed you parts of me I thought had been killed and buried long ago. So, If you know what’s good for you, you won’t accept my invitation.

You make me believe in love Min Yoongi, I'd like to explore that part of myself with you, in hopes that it won't backfire. I’ll wait for you in Budapest, I’m leaving a nondescript code I hope you’ll be smart enough to decipher on your own. I’ll wait as long as it takes, If you decline, hope you’ll allow me to love you freely in our next life together.

Yours and yours only, Y/N Y/L/N

#bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #Agent!YoongixReader #Spy!Au #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #bts drabble

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just-jae · 2 years ago

Text

About Vivsiepop's Beelzabub

Lots of drama over Bee's design. My Thoughts:

Beelzabub's design isn't forein. She's a canine character, like the Hellhounds she rules over. She wears knicked tanktop and shorts- Just like Loona and Tex's everyday clothes. She even talks like Loona, which is the best way I can describe at the moment is City-youth culture.

About her colors-- the pink and blue aren't her true colors, those are for the "Cotton Candy" song she sings-- she's wearing cotton candy colors. When bathed in yellow. and when transformed, her clothes turn red and black, her glowy hair turns completely gold. Even her little tuft turns gold.

This Matches with the general colorscheme of the other hellhounds except for the Yellow/gold.

So her design matches other characters.

As for Bee's bug theme:

She's got six, thin, long limbs. Fly wings you can hear flapping around, antenae lashes and ears, and stripes. Which is all a call to the bug theme of Biblical Beelzabub, who may not have been specifically seen as a bee, but at least was a flying bug. Even so, there's no rule saying you HAVE adhere to previous depictions of an entity in a fictional work. You don't, and shouldn't have to know anything about the bible to track who a given character is. Biblical lore can help predict what a character's about, but the show's own writing is what makes and defines the character in that show (Something I get to later).

When it comes to character design basics, Bee's still pretty in-lane, being introduced with an easy-to-recognize silhouette.

When it comes to animation practicality, Bee's base design (clothes, patterns) doesn't seem much harder to animate than these guys.

Even then, Bee's animation is very high quality in this episode, like the animation in the "Truth Seekers" episode or some parts of "The Harvest Moon Festival". They were adding extra details to the animation for fun, not because her design required it. The Honey was globbier than it needed to be, her body movements more fluid and detailed than they needed to be. It was for fun.

They could have definitely animated Bee's honeymane simpler than this, if it were that much of a strain on the animators, and still retained the same design. Plus, there are shortcuts to pulling this off, like animating the basic outline first and having another layer behind it that doesn't follow the outline, but instead is cropped by it. They do this with Stolas' sparkly cape in "Ozzie's".

(Obv, Bee's honey was more hands on, but you can see a similar method used if you watch how the globules move.) They can also animate the lava effect by itself and drag that animation to stay inside the outline, which they seem to do for the lava belly.

Even then. The whole point of this episode was to celebrate the show's success and progress. They did all this out of joy and to have fun. The only thing I'd say could have been concretely "better" only really applies if you approach this as a serious, plot-significant episode (Which it isn't), and that's the writing of the Bee's introduction scene (which was a song that was more to celebrate the show and Spotlight Kesha than providing important context on the characters/setting/themes.)

Other than that, most of the criticism about Bee's design is preference (subjective), expectation (subjective), or an overreaction to furries (Ironically plenty of fans of this show apparently find furries disgusting or lame and saw Bee's design and went "A canine Sin? The Furries are taking over!") (Subjective).

Acting like this is Viv being lazy, uninspired, or unreasonable, is just-- unfair, and unwarranted negativity. People are really acting like this is their work, and not Viv's. Viv didn't do anything technically wrong with Bee's design. It's one thing to not dig it (I personally still haven't warmed up to Ozzy's, and prolly never will, but I warmed up to Bee's a lot faster- especially after seeing her personality) it's another to try to shit on the creator or act like their designs are "wrong" because of expectations or personal taste, ESPECIALLY for an episode that isn't plot relevant and was made to celebrate real-world things like Viv's success in producing her own show and being able to work with Kesha.

Chill the fuck out, and kudo's to the team.

End thoughts.

#Helluva Boss #beelzabub #queen beelzebub #character design #fandom #critique #Seriously can yall chill tf out.#helluva boss episode 8 #helluva boss queen bee

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quinloki · 1 year ago

Note

I leave the actual character(s) to you but may I request these flavors please:

cotton candy: post the last picture of your F/O that you saved!

pistachio: when was the last time that you or your F/O cried during a movie?

coconut mango: what mementos do you and your F/O treasure?

And one I'm making up because seriously, this flavor should be on the list:

dill pickle: what's the pettiest thing your F/O has ever done to you (maybe because of a fight) or to someone else?

Alright, I'll put this under a cut, cause I'm going to be be concise, but greedy, so it's gonna get long.

Cotton Candy: Since all the best art is stuff I haven't drawn and I don't want to link a dozen images, we'll do a little theater of the mind for this.

Marco - we're in yukata at a festival, sugar candy and candied pineapple on sticks, with Marco leaned down behind me so both our faces are in the frame for the passerby that offered to take a picture when we were struggling to do a selfie <3

Kid - covered in oil soot both of us, and there's a heart smeared on Kid's cheek while I'm near to tears with laughter. Heat or Wire probably took the picture and you can tell Kid is already plotting some manner of revenge.

Sabo - It's a newspaper photo, and we're making rude gestures at the camera person while laughing. Whether canon or AU I just feel like there'd be some level of infamy with Sabo's public image.

Pistachio: Last time you or your F/O cried during a movie?

I am a water fountain, let's just assume if something is too cute I'm bawling incomprehensibly. (┬┬﹏┬┬)

Marco - Family loss in movies hits Marco pretty hard. He can usually keep it in, but I feel like something like Saving Private Ryan would have him, Thatch and Izou in tears despite their efforts.

Kid - He'll leave the room so no one sees him getting misty eyed, but he's almost in the same category as me, he's just not willing to admit to it. Frustration, anger and sadness will get him to tear up, and the first two he'll let people see, but that third one is kind of a unicorn.

Sabo - He doesn't. Love him dearly, but he's far too practiced at compartmentalization. He'll hand over a box of tissues without a word, pet my hair when a scene is ramping up and just let me bawl, but he doesn't really get sucked into movies enough to get effected that way. (It's also why he drives after action movies, cause me and Ace get too wound up over them XD )

coconut mango: what mementos do you and your F/O treasure?

Marco - I've dove into it before, but Marco and his damned bar coasters. They grow on you, they do. I have a few small items from other people I cherish, but those coasters are pretty much ours at this point, and not just his.

Kid - The perk of Kid as your F/O are all the little knick knacks, but a metal and wood polished set of arm bands, are my favorite gift from him. Kid's most cherished item is... weird, but - okay, so look, I wanted to learn how to fight, I get the forms and functions, right? But I'm not... feisty enough. >.> Anyway, sparring with the crew saw improvements, and one time Kid and I were going at it and I managed to really ring his bell. He reacted instinctively and now he has my tooth on a chain.

Sabo - I... may have to come back to this. Things with Sabo are still new, and I haven't given it enough thought it seems.

And one I'm making up because seriously, this flavor should be on the list:

dill pickle: what's the pettiest thing your F/O has ever done to you (maybe because of a fight) or to someone else?

Marco - I've never tested Marco enough to know this, and I don't WANT to test Marco enough to know this. Knowing one's limits are important and there's some lines you just kind of instinctively know better >.>

Kid - Stole all my underclothes. T-T Look, I'm just not good at buying necessities for myself, and I will wear clothes to threads. Even the stuff I shouldn't like bras and such. And bad bras can leave marks and bruises and little miss Tulip head got all pissy about it. Bad underclothes are better than no under clothes, so a shopping we had gone.

Sabo - Made me wear mittens for a day so he could get doors and chairs and such for me. Was enough of a good sport to take them off when I had to go to the bathroom, was enough of a bastard to leave them on when it was time for bed.

#ask game #quin answers #thecrimsonacademic #self ship

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wickedsrest-rp-archive · 1 year ago

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Welcome to our WRW! We do these weekly to provide plot drops, challenges, and highlight starters. Anyone is welcome to use these bullet points. Let us know if you want us to include one of your setting-related plots in here for next week by sending us a bullet point!

Babe, wake up, a new leg just dropped. Also it's on fire, and there's pentagrams showing up everywhere! What the heck is going on? Check out our current plot of the week of Season 2 for ways to interact!

Our summer seasonal event is here, and so are the cicadas! Enjoy the faire, have some fun at the beach, and look forward to the town bonfire.

Seemingly overnight a series of yard sales have popped up all over Deersprings. No one is quite sure who organized it, but if you need some old DVDs and forbidden (or cursed) knick-knacks, most items seem to be under five dollars. What a bargain!

Local reptile researchers are starting to find odd snake tracks around Grimm Family Ski Lodge after the thunderstorms brought lots of rain to the area. Maybe it’s best not to go off those marked paths after all. Here's hoping they don't feel like migrating to town!

Complete challenges and claim prizes!. You can read more about how they work and what prizes are available here. Bonus challenges are an opportunity to earn an extra point per week but are harder or weirder.

This week’s challenge:

Respond to 3 anon asks posted by other characters

Bonus challenge:

Solo week! Write and post a solo this week

Lorelei wants to remind you to NOT use anti-fungal spray on new tattoos...

Erin thinks those jousting horses looked a little... wrong...

Booker is curious about these symbols, and fears the shrimpy worst.

The Bread Cemetery is having a Pride sale on cupcakes and pins! Jonas is reminding us to get it while the gettin's good!

Cass delivers a (very, very chill) reminder to keep out of caves.

#wrw #wicked's rest weekly #supernatural rp #established rp #literate rp

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redhatmeg · 1 year ago

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I'm on Souvenirs now and this is actually one of the episodes I somewhat remember for the unique plot: some guy using Korean children to gather scraps from the battlefiled to make knick-knacks ans sell them to people who want souvenirs from war.

The episode opens on the OR when doctors discuss patients wanting to keep bullets from their bodies as souvenirs; and they think that it's stupid. From Potter, Hawkeye and BJ's point of view why would you want to take something like that home or even to remember the nightmare of war, but to the ordinary person the reason is fairly simple:

Showing the bullet one was hit with is hella cool. A perfect segway to tell some crazy war stories to friends, children or even grandchildren. There is also the fact that the patient survived the bullet that makes it cool. You can also use it as a cautionary tale about being hit by a bullet and about fragility of life, so really - it's not as weird as it sounds.

Edit:

Now, the scar souvenirs is a little different case. They don't have the same impact as bullets taken out of one's body, because they are just things made out of scraps left on a battlefield. And maybe some of them are quite interesting, like ashtrays, but other are cheap af (like the jewelry Stratton tried to make Klinger buy).

#meg rewatches mash #mash

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justbelievinginmagic · 1 year ago

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ariadne's thread ⎯ pt. 1: a deal, a deal, a deal!!

pairing(s): hyunjin x fem!reader series summary: when tempted by an intoxicating offer by hyunjin the goblin king of the underground, you fight against him to find your own sense of self once more while in his labyrinth. glimpse: she said the words - "i wish . . . i wish the goblin king would save me." what is said has been said. nothing can take back a wish except for even more powerful magic - a fae deal. warnings/tags: inspired by the 1986' movie Labyrinth, follows majority of the movie's plot points with lore divergence, 3rd person POV, use of Y/N, pg-13 themes with no explicit smut, world building!!, strong language, suggestive language, faerie lore!!, tension, enemies to lovers, unequal power dynamics, manipulation, faerie glamour, implied kidnapping, blonde, long hair hyunjin being a beautiful faerie king. word count: 4.7k -> next chapter series masterlist

Y/N was floating through life with no goal in sight. Except to wander home to her small childhood bedroom after college courses and her job at the local supermarket to read her books. Vanilla-scented and yellow-tinted pages felt like heaven under her fingertips as she fell into her books’ world day after day.

Pages of books kept her company for many years – as the world spun past. Fantasy worlds that were pretty and dangerous and wild and dreamy. Worlds where the heroine wins and the damsel finds her true love. Admittedly, she wished for it. Wished for something far away – someone to twirl her into their arms and keep her safe and sound. Fantastical but safe. A place to be herself while someone loved her. Instead of facing the world, invisible as she greets the next customer and walks the halls of a university as another face of the hundred-person class and returns home as the adult daughter locked up in her bedroom.

Never did she imagine it’d happen – late at night, on a rain-soaked Sunday. Her family was away from home, and Y/N left alone in the darkness of her childhood home. It hadn’t bothered her. Not as long as she had her books.

There was a clatter of rain against the doors of her balcony. Her eyes flashed away from her book to look over at them. A rickety branch scratched at a door like an old witch’s finger prodding at the glass, casting an eerie shadow onto her carpeted floor. It was frightening in the orange-yellow light of the slowly-dying incandescent fluorescent lights of her childhood room. The ancient lights aching to be replaced painted the room in a sunset nostalgia most days, but, tonight, it was painted her bedroom in a grimy film of age. Everything felt eerie and old and off.

The wallpaper, a fading pink and white with soft bears painted by the baseboards, rotted into a yellow tinged thing. Her bed was a hand-me-down full bed of fluffy duvets and old laced comforters with her bed posts holding a long sagging canopy of white tulle she insisted upon a tween. She had always favored the fantastical and soft and, despite aging, she had to admit she forgot how long ago it had been when she had chosen the sets of softened bedding and moth-eaten tulle.

Her knick-knacks were of the same theme, gentle and girly of old childhood memories she couldn’t bear to toss aside even in her young adult age. Beloved stuffed animals (some that were soft to the touch while others had hardened scratchy fur from sitting collecting dust on long forgotten shelves), sparkling shimmering water globes (of places she had never been), paint-chipped jewelry boxes on a creaking overfull vanity (the wooden boxes were full of costume bracelets, rings, and necklaces of theatre days long passed), crafts and hobbies piled in a plastic bin in the corner (from bracelet making tools to dried-out paints and moth-eaten yarn balls), and old piles of high school notebooks peaking out from underneath her bed skirt (something she kept in the phantom fear that she may need them for college courses.) College courses that she felt empty when attending. Everything felt fleeting yet not. It felt stupid and overwhelming and – she wished things could be easier.

Easier like diving into her books. With her favorite book in her grasp, the yellow old book crinkling in her hands, she sighed as she whispered to it.

“If I could be any place but here…” she hummed. “I don’t want to work tomorrow – especially with the rain.” A deep sigh escaped her. “I wish…”

There was a pause in her words as she settled back into comfortable pillows. The rustling of her sheets disguising a murmured ‘she’s going to say the words’ from under her bed, from her closet.

“I wish the Goblin King would save me – steal me away to be his and only his.”

It wasn’t said in agony to a lucky penny or in plea besides a wishing well. She had simply laughed a little laugh as she curled up in her bed, hugging the book closer to her face as she read on. It was almost her favorite part – the royal ball!

Now, wishes don’t care for rhyme or even sincerity. (Both were lacking from her plea.) However, it was the perfect time for a wish to be granted - the words have been spoken at the stroke of midnight on the highest of full moons on the first day of spring.

There is a shatter somewhere; the branches of the tree outside her window scraaattcching the glass with a shriek. The wind made the house tremble and rumble as energy flooded the air, tangible enough it made her eyes look up, before with a snap - the lights switch off.

A crash of lightning and a roar of thunder clashed louder than ever. There was no settling silence of electronics and fridges and fans. No, the world growled as the storm grew. Until in a whirl of sparkling shimmer star dust and a burst of cold storm air, the balcony doors flung open to reveal a man. No, not an ordinary man. He was far too ethereal to be a normal man. (The idea of it being a robber didn’t even flicker through her mind. Though, the possibility of this being a dream did.)

The soft chimes of bell rang in her ears as he took a step into the room. He was near glowing like an angel, haloed by some shimmering light. Blonde hair that tickled the back of his neck in long strands fluttered in the storm wind. Dark thick brows pursed, partially hidden by strands of his golden hair that framed his angular face, and striking blue eyes lazily stared at her from within the dark shadows of his brow. Poutful raspberry-kissed lips that smirked at her. Gilded chains hung around his lean neck, displaying his collarbones with a sharpness. Elaborate piercings decorated both of his curved elf-like ears; all gold chained, red jeweled, and shimmering from the distant amber streetlight.

He wore fine tailored dark clothes as if he were part of the night storm himself; leathered pants that gleamed in the light, a lacy sort of shirt that curved tightly over rounded muscles and sinewy tendons and shadowed by a heavy cloak made of oil-slick dark feathers. Darker than night and covered in that sparkly dust that had brought him into her bedroom. His hands were adorned in many rings and one hand that had twists of dark silver that formed a sort of claw, covering his knuckles and fingertips like a gauntlet. He had tawny-tan skin that glowed from the nearby streetlights, with an unnatural. . . gloss of sparkle. As if his skin was made of crushed starlight.

Beautiful. . . tempting. . . frighteningly ethereal.

He stole her breath away and he knew it as he stared at her. The look in his eyes… it was like nothing she’d ever seen in someone’s gaze towards her before. Dark and broody and yet something sharply cutting in his eyes. It wasn’t adoration. It wasn’t jealous or anger or frustration. Magnetic. Possession, yearning, power. He was powerful. He demanded attention, no – he demanded her attention. His head tilted as he looked on at her. Her gaze trickled down the fine tendons of his neck to realize he hadn’t taken a breath since entering – his chest did not rise or fall as he stared on at her with dark storm eyes. Her legs curled closer to her chest as the old book tumbled from her grasp, falling to the floor. Forgotten.

He didn’t move and, for a moment, she didn’t either. Her heart rushed in her head like the ocean; the rhythm a calling drum to his ears. She took a shuddering breath as she spoke.

“You’re him . . . aren’t you?” Y/N breathed. Realizing, he felt familiar. Not in the sense that she had seen him before– she’d remember someone so handsome. But rather it was like déjà vu. A familiarity with someone you’ve never seen before. But she had read of him over and over and over. He wasn’t what she pictured but maybe it was because she couldn’t imagine someone so hauntingly striking. She scrambled from her bed, almost tripping over the plentiful blankets and comforters.

“You’re the Goblin King.” she clarified.

That was the only explanation. He wore no crown, but she realized he didn’t need it. The power that radiated from him felt tangible like static before a lightning strike. She had read about him in her storybooks for years – folklore of faerie and the Underground something that had always intrigued her but. . . she had never thought it real. Not in reality. It was just a fantasy. A dream that she had wished upon many times before.

He didn’t smile at her, but his petaled lips twitched. His lips were so beautiful and soft looking (she wanted to kiss them, dedicate herself to making the soft flesh swollen and red from nips and kisses. She needed to. She had to.) The thought made her eyes widen in surprise at herself. Swallowing, she blinked glancing away from him.

He smiled then, the curve of his lips forming a sneer of sorts as he watched her with his engulfing eyes.

“Why are you here?” she queried out, hand reaching for the bedpost of her bed for support as she raised her gaze again.

Red-cheeked, she tried to maintain his hypnotic gaze. Was this a dream? She saw a man appear out of nowhere, so, maybe it was. She had been reading more romance books recently. . .

“Think closely, Y/N,” the fae finally spoke, voice low.

It felt like it shook her bones despite its strange gentility compared to the storm that still roared behind him.

Think closely. . .

She had been reading his book but… she had…

“I wished for you,” Y/N queried.

It wasn’t quite a question but it felt… not enough. How could a simple wish of him come true? If that was the case, wouldn’t fae be stealing women and men left and right? She had said those words before over the years (especially as a child)… so why now??

“I’ve come for you; to save you, dear thing,” he agreed.

“It was – I’m sor- I didn’t think you were real,” Y/N babbled, brows pursed almost painfully so.

“I am, just for you,” he replied as his hand rose to flick with grandiose. The balcony doors tumbled shut with a slam.

Silence. Darkness.. Just him and her…

“I don’t mean to be rude but—I can’t really, uh, go with you?” she said, still wrapped around her bed post.

His brows crinkled into a furrow beautifully like a Greek statue. Brows of agony and despair, beautiful despite its emotion. But just like a marble statue, his darkened blue eyes were inhuman. Like obsidian glass or a creature’s eyes, reflective and eerie. Angered. Betrayed even. Before they rose to meet yours once more. And like a façade, his eyes gleamed with light, sparkling and enchanting sea blue rather than the crashing waves before.

“I’ve brought you a gift,” he tempted instead, stepping closer into the room. Closer to her.

His smile was one of sweet temptation, almost candy-sweet with his soft lips and pearly teeth, as he prowled closer. A part of her wished that if fae stories were true that other tall tales – such as the vampiric tale of the supernatural being unable to enter one’s home without permission – were true too. A chill climbed up her back as he inched closer to her.

(Little did Y/N know that she had given him permission. Not, just now with her conversation, her wish, but when she read her little Labyrinth book ‘til it was worn soft and yellowed from the oils of her fingertips. Devotion and curiosity were all the fae needed to make a link.)

He lifted something up between them – something that he hadn’t had in his hands before. An orb of some sort. Crystalline and faintly glowing in the moonlight that poured into the room. The metallic-claws that decorated his fingers in rows of rings didn’t graze the thing nor did they reflect in the perfectly clear orb. The man’s hand wasn’t visible through it either– like he was a ghost or a vampire in a mirror. A perfect bubble of gleaming light, crystalline and shining with chromatic aberrations. Her ears rung as she looked at it.

“What is that?” she queried carefully, stepping away from the safety of the bedpost to get a closer look.

“It’s a crystal – nothing more,” his voice was low as thunder, rumbling and grumbling like a tiger’s purr as she watched him.

With grace, the orb danced upon his hand, rolling this way and that with the fae never dropping the thing. It didn’t even look difficult for him. Y/N kept her gaze on the crystal for a moment, getting dizzy as he continued to shift it over his hand like it was a boat fighting the tides.

“But –” he tossed the crystal up.

Y/N followed the orb’s trajectory only to be spooked when there was a presence behind her rather than in front of her. The King – through some sort of magic – was beside her, a hand outstretched to catch the orb right beside her face. Y/N startled jumping away a bit, into his chest. She felt caged in by him. His proximity was frightening tempting.

When she breathed in, his smell engulfed her; there was something ancient in his scent. Not like old perfume but something like earthly old. He smelled of fire-smoke, damp moss after a rainshower, something deeper like rosemary or thyme, and something sweet like. . . honey? She wanted to lean back into it, rub her face into his neck like a cat would preen against their owner. She wanted to decipher each scent, find its earthly copy and make a cologne just so she’d never leave its whirlwind of comfort.

Instead, she froze against his cold form.

She knew the Goblin King in her books was tricky - fae often were. There were a handful of types – from those who stole away women from their husbands, to those who caused mischief, and to those who would serve but at a price. It was easy enough to read, not easy to live. She couldn’t tell why she felt this way – sure, he was handsome but… she had control. She wasn’t some teenager. The fact she kept falling into these daydreams of him, him, him, him, him, him, him, him, him, him – it scared her. Not knowing where the faerie traps were and how to evade them was scary for her.

The Goblin King smiled; cold snow-sky eyes met crinkled before he raised the crystal up to her eye level.

“But, if you turn it this way,” his hand tilted the orb, as did her head as if she were a puppet on a string, “look into it; it will show you your dreams.”

There was a beat as a hand rose to rest on her hip, cold as ice through her white long-sleeved shirt.

“I’ve seen them.” He whispered tauntingly.

Y/N did not look into the orb. Her eyes remained locked on his. His cruel eyes. How could he have such a sweet smile, and yet the deep blue sea of his eyes felt bottomless, cold and dark?

“But this is not a gift for an ordinary girl.” He chided, tilting his head to lean closer to her. “Who works a job at the store and lives trapped in her childhood home.”

It was cruel – a cruel reminder of the words that those around her all say. How she is stuck in time, stuck in her hometown, stuck, stuck, stuck. Ordinary girl, ordinary town, ordinary job. Nothing like the faerie in front of her.

There was a snicker in her room, and her head whipped around to look about the dark space. It was empty.

He yanked his hand away from her, drawing her attention to him once more. Her eyes steeled at his words, and the king’s smirk grew. He hummed a melody, familiar and distant. It was almost a pleased tone before he stepped in front of her once more. He was taller than her – especially when she saw he wore heeled boots.

“Do you want it?” he offered, the orb held out once more.

The words were said almost kindly. Knowing if she took it, it’d be taking an apple from a serpent.

“It’s tempting. . . but what is the catch?” she finally said, swallowing as she looked at the crystal once more.

His smile was sharp then, and she saw fangs then.

“Your loyalty, your belief, you.” He listed. “You. Everything from you. Your mortality will be mine and you’ll never see this place again, these people again, this dwelling again.”

There was a tenderness to his face as he continued. “I’ll save you, sweet thing. You can live in your dreams with me – beyond this realm.”

“No.”

It was an easy answer. No. She would not devote herself to someone so wholly. A fae of a man especially. Y/N read all the fairy tales out there – all the romance novels and stories of love, deceit, devotion, and betrayal. This would take and take and take. She could see her future – a shell of herself. Hell, she had seen it in the moments of delusion tonight where she wanted nothing but him.

“Don’t defy me.” he warned, so gently. Almost helpfully.

Defy. This was not being saved. This was no prince riding on a stallion and climbing to her balcony to steal her away. No. . . no, this man was no savior. She had read the fairytale he was from – read it from cover to cover more than she could count. The Goblin King – cruel as he is merciful - will grant your wish for a price.

“I do not want to be saved then. I take back my wish.”

“What is said has been said,” he stated with a chuckle.

He was laughing at her. In fact, she heard a chitter in her room like a guffaw behind her bed skirt. Her head whipped around to look.

The corner of her duvet swayed in the wind. Nothing was out of the ordinary again.

“I don’t care – I say no.” she claimed, glancing back him.

“The words have been spoken,” he claimed again as he bent down to whisper to her.

“You’re no match for me, Y/N. I will treat you well, little thing.”

Thing. It ached of ownership. Of possession rather than protection or freedom.

“I don’t want to be your thing.”

“You should’ve thought of that before making such a wish. What do I gain in saving you otherwise, hm?” he retorted, as if explaining something to a child. “I want you – or another human for my trouble.”

No way! She’d never sacrifice someone for a wish! Her eyes widened at the very thought before her brows furrowed. What could she do? What could she do?

“What if we made a deal?” She fought back.

Her question made a crack of thunder rumble the house like an electric field. It buzzed and hummed… or maybe it wasn’t thunder at all, but voices. She heard them then. Chittering and chattering. Low hums of interest and the haunting chants of “a deal, a deal, a deal!!” Little voices, squeaky and animalistic chant in excitement. It was then she finally saw a goblin’s head from within her closet. One and then another and another. Too many as if her room was nothing but a zoo to the creatures. A crowded room of voyeurs, an unknown audience to her and the King’s dispute.

Long limbed apparitions clung to her white and pink walls with spindly hands. A monstrous thing under her bed with glowing eyes heaved a rumble, the bed skirt fluttering. A winged creature on her tulled canopy swayed with the buzzing excitement of a cicada. Little things peering out at her with wings and horns and fangs and yellowed eyes and radioactive red pupils.

It was a thing out of nightmares. She yelped a bit, eyes widening in fear.

There was a tsk from the King, and the creatures disappeared into their hiding spots in a rush and a huff. Like they were playing hide and seek. Her room looked normal again but she could feel their pupils trained on her back now. Her gaze settled back onto the Goblin King. Annoyance lingered on the corner of his mouth, the pouty thing twitching faintly before he asked: “You’d like to make a deal instead of seeing your dreams come true?”

A faerie deal never meant anything good. But neither was losing herself for a man, no, a creature of another world with far too many secrets as shown by the creatures prowling under her bed and in her wardrobe.

She nodded slowly. “Yes. Any way to have this wish be forgotten.”

The King sneered. The flash of emotion so quick she almost didn’t spot it.

He was insulted by this human. How dare she be so outlandish… special but if she so wished to be rebellious. He’d give her a challenge fit for such insult.

“A faerie deal is serious matter, Y/N.” He warned before, with an air of nonchalance, he moved aside.

Circling her once more like she was nothing but a soon-to-be carcass and him a vulture bird.

“The terms shall be this. If you can defeat my labyrinth and reach my true throne in the castle beyond the Goblin City within 13 hours, you will no longer be mine; my claim will be relinquished. Your will shall be your own once more. You will be a human.”

He said the final words like they were sickly – he couldn’t imagine wanting a human life when high fae have everything. (But she wouldn’t be a high fae, would she? No, a human became a changeling if caught or stolen away. And that was different.)

Y/N had no choice but to agree. She had read faerie tales. Humans and faeries didn’t mix – they weren’t meant to. If she followed her wish, if she went with him, she really feared what would become of herself. The idea of forever as someone’s is only good when there is trust. And she couldn’t trust him. A stranger, a king of magnetic power, a faerie. Someone who wished to own her for his own gain. Not out of affection or respect.

“And if you do not succeed,” he continued on with a laugh at the tips of his words. (The goblins echoed him with chortles that crawled up her spine.) “You are mine – as promised by the power of the Wish. All of you. Soul, mind, and form.”

He was behind her again, his words soft in her hair as he brushed it aside observingly. His fingers chilled her throat; his touch felt icy cold.

“Do you agree, Y/N? If you break this contract by your own will or demise,” It was formally said as he placed his hands on her shoulders. Caging her in his arms as she heard the hum of anticipation from the ghouls and goblins in her room. “You shall be mine.”

She didn’t hesitate even as her form shuddered. “I agree.” Y/N said.

There was a change in the wind outside; a flash of lightning blinded her as a deal was struck.

“Pity,” he murmured, low in his throat as he let go of her.

As he passed her, she saw the world in front of her melt away in a wash of watercolor blurs. No longer was she in her childhood bedroom with the comfort of her novels and objects. No, now it was a desert. An orange-purple atmosphere like a distant fire roared over the sea of sand. Rolling sand dunes tumbled towards a grand darkened maze. The Labyrinth. A twisting series of winding paths that seemed endless, all leading to a far-in-the-distance castle. It looked impossible. Dead-ends galore and sections that seemed to be completely unrelated to one another. 13 hours. How was she to get through this in less than a day! A clash of despair rattled her bones – especially when a damp chill danced over her skin. A suffocating heaviness was in the air, as well as the realization, she was underground. Dust and dirt and old air from centuries past lingered.

Looking up, there was no sky, no stars, nor moon above but a darkened cave ceiling full of stalactites and in some cases large sky lights – or cracks in the ground. These cracks let spots of sunlight in, shining over the desert sea in pools of light. Where there was no sunshine pouring down on the maze, there was a haunting golden glow from roaring fire pits high above the maze in watch-out points and floating candles she noted. Squinting her eyes, she could make out thousands of candles decorating the rocky labyrinth. It made everything look orange-red hazy. Shadows cast into the maze making it look even more confusing.

In each of these sunspots away from the Labyrinth, there were different things flourishing outside the maze she noticed– some sunspots were home to a jungle of vegetation; others were conveniently where rain-water ponds appeared; most had small huts and communities.

She and the Goblin King were in one of those sky lights’ brightness now, sunshine cascading over the pair of them. Half dead foliage and trees curled up from the barren sand, with long tendrils of rotting vines and branches twisting out. The bark and rockwork, despite its dead nature had the same type of glimmer to them as the fae man. It sparkled in the sunlight like someone dropped glitter on it. Magic thrived here – even in the dead and inanimate.

The King looked out of place in such a desolate land – his desolate land. Something beautiful around such emptiness and darkness. His form seemed to glow in the natural light, especially when shadowed by such darkness in the Underground, but Y/N’s gaze focused on the daunting path ahead instead of his angelic beauty.

How could he be so beautiful? It was unnatural.

Her eyes tried to map out a path, only to find no true path to the distant grand castle. The world seemed to curve and prevent her from following a straight line to the grand dark castle. It seemed hopeless. Surely there was a way to plot a way onwards, but the Labyrinth didn’t deal in kindnesses it seemed.

“Turn back,” his voice startled her as he encouraged from her side. “While you still can, my dear Runner.”

Biting her lip, she swallowed as she looked between him and his castle.

“It doesn’t look that far,” she commented, her back turning to him.

(Bravado.)

The King lurched forward, his own back bending to be beside her ear once more.

“It’s further than you think,” he taunted, almost sing-song in tune. “And time is short.”

With a flick of his hand, a grand clock appeared floating in mid-air. She startled, jolting back. Her back settling into his broad chest. His smirk was in her hair as a metal claw-tipped hand steadied her.

The clock – the grand clock of the Underground - was haunting as it was magical. It was a golden shade of wood and its clockface made of intricately ornate stained glass. Its numbers were curled and elegant, counting from 1 to 13. As of now, it was at the top of the 13th hour.

“13 hours, as promised,” he cooed. “13 hours and, then, you are mine, dear Y/N.”

And in an icy rush of wind and soft chimes in the air, her hair was pushed forward, blowing into her eyes, and his form, once lurking over her shoulder, was gone.

“Such a pity I must wait for you,” his voice hummed in the cold.

Then, Y/N, the Labyrinth Runner, was alone in a different realm she heard of in storybooks, but, unlike her many books, she didn’t know how the story would end.

#hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #jisung x reader #han jisung x reader #hyunjin x oc #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz fantasy au #skz fanfic #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin reactions #written by haley

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