I write fanfiction for BTS, GOT7 and Ateez, I also stan stray kids but do not write for them (feel free to scream about any of these to me in my inbox)
My writings are both SFW and NSFW (PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY BLOG IF YOU ARE UNDER 18)
My bias' are Jimin, Jackson Wang, Felix and Wooyoung
I was born and live in London, UK.
I'm a mother and have a full time job (hence why my posts can be sporadic)
Currently trying to learn Korean (it's not going well)
I am very friendly and always happy to chat, so feel free to drop me a message
Synopsis: A case of Hanahaki disease shows up on your table, bringing with it a man from your past.
Pairing: Mafia Organ Broker!Namjoon x Coroner!F!reader
Genre: Horror/Thriller, Angst
Trope: Hanahaki disease, mafia inferences
Flowers Chosen: Anemone, Sweet pea (It's vague but I took some liberties in descriptions of the flowers)
Triggers/Warnings: Graphic description of an autopsy and equipment, overall cryptic environment of a morgue, inference to Namjoon being into organ marketing/mafia, mention of surgical scars. Angst with inferences of a past tragic relationship.
Submission for @lapydiaries Admin Dae's Drowning in Flowers event
A/N: Thank you to @sanjoongie and @pars-ley for getting me through writing this! I've never written or really known about Hanahaki disease before this beyond just vague ideas. I wanted to play with the idea of seeing the effects of it from a different pov than you'd expect. Thank you to @cafekitsune as always for the dividers and @pars-ley for the gorgeous banner! Written while listening to Dying To Love and The Grey by Bad Omens.
The familiar tingle of disinfectant stings your sinuses as you make your way across the chilly, windowless room. The soft ticking of the clock adds some ambiance to the silent space, and you’re reminded that you’ve yet to cue up some music to get you through the long night to come.
You go about the beginning of your shift, paperwork, checklists, all of the things ingrained into your everyday routine. Pulling out your white lab coat, you turn to secure your hair then wash up before heading over to cold storage.
The stainless steel metal doors house those unfortunate enough to have ended up in this quiet morgue, in the hands of a woman who’d come to terms with death long ago.
Your eyes search for one particular door, your heart heavy as you recall the documents listing her stats.
Door number 3.
Female, 25. Lung obstruction possibly leading to death.
A tingle races up your spine but you roll your shoulders to try to release the tension building slowly.
You push aside the technical terms you’d read off her chart, trying to clear your mind before you face the poor girl lying on the slab behind the door reducing her to a number in a refrigerator.
Pausing, you take a deep breath that tugs at your own past scars before you nod once. Perhaps you’d be wrong and it’d be a simple case of pneumonia that had killed her.
Forcing yourself into professional mode, you tug open the door and begin the steps for her autopsy.
All hope drains from you as your scalpel slices through her chilled flesh and tissue, cranking open the rib spreader to reveal the lungs beneath. The tell tale sign of the disease is automatically apparent as you notice the little barbs puncturing the lining.
The familiar floral scent permeates the air as you make an incision, so out of place in this sterile, sanitized environment. The once beautiful blooms are now withering in her chest, the fetid fragrance of sweet rot accompanying the decaying petals.
You set aside your scalpel and gently pick one up, rubbing the deteriorating tissue between your gloved fingertips. A sigh leaves your lips at the discovery, but before you can return to your work, soft footfalls catch your attention from the ceiling above.
Your hand hovers over your surgical knife, your gut twisting as the footsteps seem to hesitate.
As much as you will those shoes and the man connected to them to turn and leave, you’ve been anticipating this since you’d read her chart.
To your dismay, heavy clomps descend the concrete steps before the morgue door is being swung open.
You blow out a long breath as your sanctuary is breached by the living, breathing figure you’d rather not have to face.
He seems to sense your unwillingness, but you both know it can’t be avoided.
After a moment he clears his throat, the first note of your name brushing past his lips. But before he can even utter the syllable, you cut him off.
“Namjoon.”
Bracing yourself, you keep your face stoic before turning to face him.
Tall, short hair slicked back from his forehead. Dark eyes behind glasses that just enhance his good looks, an expensive suit adorning his large frame that can only be purchased at the most exclusive tailors.
The rigid creak of leather cuts the tension in the air as his gloved fist clenches the handle of his thick metal briefcase.
His full lips twitch at the edges, that familiar dimple threatening to peek out and wink at you as if it could stir your heart once more.
You’re aware of how ridiculous you both must look, two people standing in a cold morgue staring at one another probably reliving a lifetime of memories, yet you both have a job to do.
“I’ll prepare it.” You turn your back to him, willing your hand to steady as you retrieve your scalpel and go about extracting the thorny mass from the cadaver's chest cavity.
Silence fills the room for a long moment as you work before he finally steps up across from you. You only give him a glance before returning to your removal, your sharp blade delicately separating plant from human cells as he observes.
As rare as it was for this to come across your table, it’s not as if it’s never happened. You’re both well versed on this by now, an almost companionable quiet settling around you.
“You’ve gotten better at the roots.” The deep timbre of his voice draws you from your inner thoughts. You merely nod, finally withdrawing the compacted blooms from the thorax.
He settles the heavy briefcase on the table beside you, the sharp snick of the latches unlocking as you turn with the mass in your hands to gently place it inside.
Your gaze lingers on the beautifully horrific plant, wondering about the girl they came out of and the person who’d caused her to birth them. If she’d suffered much as they slowly suffocated her.
Namjoon’s hands linger on the lid, allowing you the time with your thoughts. A sadness washes over you as you tear your eyes away and look up at the man who’d once-
“Have there been any breakthroughs?” You redirect your focus, voicing something more tangible and less melancholic.
That dimple peeks out again as he shakes his head, his tongue pushing out his lower lip the way he always does when he’s frustrated.
“You know I’m not privy to that…but…” His gaze meets yours, dropping to your collar before quickly snapping back up. “...but you know if I ever know-”
Your smile is your only answer as he finally snaps the lid shut, sealing away the diseased blooms within now that your part in this is through.
With a nod, he lifts the case and turns to go, his footfalls a small relief as they signal that you can return to your routine without the intrusion of his presence trespassing on your mind.
Before you can turn back to the autopsy, he pauses at the door, his broad shoulders tensing.
Without looking back, he places a hand on the door, hesitating.
“I’ll keep my promise. Until the moment I draw my last breath, I swear-”
His vow rings throughout the room, and you can only feel the remnants of your heart stir like a specter; a ghost limb trying to remember the place it no longer resides.
Without another word, he pushes the door open and ascends the stairs, his heavy footfalls slowly fading as you allow the cold silence to calm your weary bones.
Your turn back to the table, the clock ticking faintly as you resume your night.
Your hand drifts up to your torso, your palm settling over the fabric that conceals your surgical scars.
You can’t help but wonder which is the preferable fate; the disease extinguishing your life like this poor soul on your table or…living but unable to love again.
You grab the tiny remote and turn on some music to drown out the intrusive hope that Namjoon’s longing eyes held, focusing on what will hopefully be the last tragic case of Hanahaki to come across your table.
I loved every second of this fic. How you made something with less than 1500 words feel like pages and pages, is truly a gift. This reads like a dark, mysterious poetry and couldn't be more perfect for your comeback fic!
As soon as you step into your apartment, the quiet envelopes you, calming your chaotic thoughts and reminding you of the peace that exists in your life.
To say you'd had a bad day would be an understatement, you've had the worst day in a long time, but a bad day doesn't last, it is exactly that. One bad day. Tomorrow is a new day and you can start fresh but that hasn't stopped you needing to rant to your boyfriend on the way home.
Jin stands in the doorway of the kitchen, even in his pink dressing gown, looking like he just stepped off of a page in a magazine.
"Welcome home." he says quietly with a small smile and the words alone bring tears to your eyes. He's at your side in an instant, wrapping his arms tightly around you as you sob into them, releasing all your pent up stress from the day. He stands there with you, stroking your hair, keeping you close until you begin to calm down. His scent swirls around you, comforting you and warming your insides, the steady beat of his heart soothes your emotions, trying to mimic his breathing to calm yourself further, and it works.
As soon as the tears have stopped falling he tucks you into his armpit, holding you close to his side and coaxes you into the living room. He takes your bag and coat and leads you to your favourite chair. As you take a seat, he brings over the foot stool for you before he leaves the room. Looking at the table beside you, you notice your book laid out neatly on your page and a folded blanket on the arm rest of the chair. Your heart swells.
What did you do to deserve this man?
He's at your side again, holding a freshly brewed coffee, the smell, a goddess to your senses.
"You sit here and relax," he says as he lays the blanket across your lap. "I'm cooking dinner and when we're done I'm going to run you a nice bath with those pink candles you like."
"God, I love you." you sigh, making him chuckle.
"I love you too." he responds, leaning down to kiss you sweetly, his plump lips captivating you entirely. "And after you've relaxed in the tub, I'll make you forget all about today." he whispers against your lips, sending a heat down to your core you were not expecting. He presses his lips to yours once more and as he turns to leave you to it, he calls dramatically, "but first I must attend to the dinner."
Staring at the back of his head, you can't help but giggle as you hear him swear when he drops something, followed by, "it's ok, I'm ok!"
Shaking your head, you get settled with your drink, already forgetting about the burdens of your day and more thankful than ever for the man in your life.
Pairing: WitchHunterJeonJungkook! x WitchFemaleReader!
Summary: You like your cottage in the middle of the woods, away from everyone, and as a witch it offers you an element of protection. Until you find a witch hunter laying wounded and dying on your doorstep, you may be sworn enemies but you would not let him suffer the fate that awaits…especially not when you realise who he is.
Genre(s): Best friends to lovers / enemies to lovers / childhood friends to enemies to lovers / forbidden love / angst / fantasy au / witch/witchunter au
Rating: 18+ (NSFW) MDNI
Warnings: descriptions of wounds and blood / mentions of magical powers / potion making / the grim reaper / main character wounded / witchcraft
Word count: 3.5k
Banner: me
Moodboard: @anyamaris thank you, it's perfection!
Beta: @anyamaris I appreciate you!
A/N: This is for the @lapydiaries event ‘witch hunt’, as last minute Ley strikes again. This will be in at least three parts.
Today started off as any other ordinary day in your cottage in the woods, shrouded by overhanging leaves from the branches of the trees that surround your home, caging you in and making you feel safe and unseen; just how you like it.
Little did you know, when you awoke and opened the wooden shutters on your windows, greeting the dull, overcast morning accompanied by the sound of heavy rain, that you would have a rather unexpected visitor.
Very rarely do you invite anyone to your home and even more rarely for someone to stumble across it accidentally.
So when you open your front door to call to your companion–an elegant raven who has been by your side for years–you’re surprised to see a slumped figure, hunched over on your doorstep. Managing to catch yourself before falling over him, you straighten up and survey the landscape. Your eyes skim the trees for any other sign of life but sense nothing, before they fall back down to the man below you.
Crimson draws your attention to the top of his naked arm, a bite–with teeth marks big enough to have only come from a dragon and your heart sinks.
It's not being eaten by a dragon that most people fear, the beasts don't like the taste of humans anyway, but surviving the bite is something else entirely, something you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. From their teeth, a poison, slow but deadly, rampages inside until it's burning a pathway of fire in your veins, setting you alight from the inside till you're nothing left but ash.
Crouching beside him, you lift his long dark hair covering his face like a black veil, and place two fingers against his throat searching for any sign of life. A weak pulse throbs gently against your fingertips, he doesn't have much time and you don't have all of what you need to cure him here.
Placing two fingers in your mouth, you whistle loudly and your loyal bird swoops straight over, landing lightly on your shoulder.
“I need you to fly to the village, fetch Hester and tell her I need glacier water, ashes from the oak, and tears of the phoenix. Go.”
Her answering ‘caw’ echoes through the surrounding woodland as she flies away, quickly disappearing above the trees.
All you can do now is get him comfortable and try to limit his pain as much as possible until your friend arrives.
It’s only then that your eyes make out a dark shape through the congealed blood that had cascaded down his forearm, a familiar pattern on his skin you recognise. A tattoo, one you'd watched him have and held his hand through the pain.
Your heart hammers painfully in your chest, the sound, so furious, filling your ears you can no longer hear the raindrops pelting the leaves around you, only the incessant panicked beating of the organ that once belonged to this man.
Willing yourself to be wrong, you gently tilt his head back to lean against your doorframe and with it, his long hair parts completely, only to reveal your worst nightmare.
Jeon Jungkook.
Older since the last time you saw him but still with the same boyish, handsome face you remember. Seven years since he had crossed your path, seven years since you’d stared into his eyes or felt his lips pressed against yours, seven years since you knew what it felt like to be held in his arms.
A tightness squeezes your chest, making it hard to breathe as you reach out hesitantly with a trembling hand, cupping his face. Cold, clammy skin feels unnatural against your touch, too used to Jungkook’s smouldering warmth, even after all this time.
He stirs slightly and whispers your name. You couldn’t deny the pull it has inside you, not realising until this moment the lingering hold he still has over you.
“I'm here, Kookie. Let's get you inside.” you say gently, sounding much calmer than you felt.
Your chaotic thoughts bounce around inside your head, panic squeezing your heart in a vice but you have to move, he needs help and fast.
You place his uninjured arm around your shoulders and grab him firmly around his waist, hoisting him up, it uses all your strength, even with his feeble attempt to aid you. His legs buckle under him instantly and you yank him up with all your might to stop him from falling. The muscles in your back protest painfully from the movement but you ignore it and push through, leading him stumbling through your cottage.
You all but drop him onto your bed, lacking the strength for being delicate. Roughly, you pull off his vest, thick with blood which makes the leather look even darker, and toss it aside. You make sure he is as comfortable as you can, before you rush off, clattering about in your kitchen, bringing back your cauldron and as many vials and jars with exotic ingredients that could help him that you have.
Jungkook moans in agony, clutching at the gory bite on his shoulder and when your eyes dart back to him, the sallow grey of his skin and sheen of sweat that glistens across his body has your stomach tightening in sickening knots.
This only encourages your hands to move faster as you begin to pour things into your cauldron, making a start on a potion that might ease some of his pain.
Adding in chamomile and a sprinkle of lavender in hopes of soothing him, you quickly get a ladle of the unappealing wilted green mixture, thankful he's unconscious and unable to refuse you. Carefully you lift his head up and spoon small amounts of the liquid in, he drinks it slowly and when the whole spoonful is gone you lay him down again. There is nothing to do but wait for your friend Hester to arrive with the other necessary ingredients.
And so you sit and watch him. Watching his chest rise and fall slowly, listening to the sound of his laboured breathing, and as your eyes drift over him, you really notice how much he's changed over the years.
The skinny, awkward looking boy has been replaced by a man with solid muscle on every part of his body. His long hair splays out across your pillow, no doubt it reaches half way down his back. He now has three piercings in his bottom lip and a lot more in his ears, which he's decorated with small metal spikes that hang from the lobe, sharp enough to cut someone. Tattoos mark both his arms, his chest and stomach, patterns that you know are for a purpose to the Witch Hunters. Usually, for every witch they stop or kill, they get new markings and boy, does he have a lot.
For a brief moment you wonder what he would do to you if he were in better shape, but you have a history with him that dates back to your birth, and that has to count for something, right?
You were two souls who had been bound together since you entered the world. An agreement by your families that you would both make the strongest couple to continue on to lead the next generation of witch hunters…that is…until your powers came in when you came of age and spun your world on its axis.
Being ostracised from your home and community, being shunned by your friends and family, including your parents, who looked at you like you were a repulsive insect they’d rather squash than release into the wild, they were all bearable things compared to living without Jungkook. That had been something else entirely.
And now with his close proximity, you perch on the edge of your bed and reach out to touch your hand to his, hesitant but desperate for the feel of his warm touch against yours. Slowly your fingers brush against his calloused palms and almost as if it's instinctive, he weakly threads his fingers through yours. Looking back at him to see if he's conscious, his eyelids flutter open and find you instantly.
He whispers your name like it's the cure to heal him and your heart pulls to him so hard it nearly takes your breath away.
“How are you here?” he says, voice coarse and strained.
Leaning down, you stroke a strand of hair off of his sweaty face, “Don't you remember?” you ask, wanting to keep him awake as long as you can. He shakes his head slowly and winces.
“You were on my doorstep this morning.” you answer, watching him carefully but his eyelids slowly close again.
“I…didn't know…where else…to go.” he responds, before the blanket of sleep pulls him under again and you repeating his name does nothing to rouse him.
Panic squeezes your insides, making your lungs feel tight and unable to get enough air in and when your front door swings open, slamming against the wall, you almost send a bolt of death to the culprit.
Hester rushes in, arms full of ingredients, eyes unwavering from the stranger in your bed.
“I could have killed you.” you scold, standing and hurrying to her side to help.
“Sorry,” she winces as she quickly hands you vials and jars, “A dragon bite?” she asks and you respond with a curt nod. “I figured as much with the ingredients list Muninn said you need.” She nods her head towards the raven, now sitting on his perch in your kitchen. “How did you find him?”
You tell her about your morning and just before you both begin mixing the potion in the cauldron at the bedside, she freezes.
“Wait, he's a witch hunter.”
Looking up at her accusing stare, focused now on you, you pause briefly, “So…I'm supposed to let him die?”
For a moment she hesitates, “If he was awake, he'd slaughter us if he could.”
“He wouldn't, trust me.” you continue mixing, as she speaks out loud in the order she places them into the cauldron.
“Water from the stream on the winter mountain, scales from the ice salamander,” with every vial poured in you get closer to helping him but your fingers shake around the wooden spoon, under the pressure of his life in your hands, “ashes from the blessed oak tree, tears of the fire phoenix and dragonbone dust from the forbidden pit.”
You look at each other nervously when the mixture sparks and a cloud of smoke engulfs you both momentarily before dissipating in the air around you.
“I'll bind his wrists, he won't like you putting this on one bit.” she whispers, glancing nervously at him as if he's a snake that could strike at any moment.
“No.” you say quickly, your heart making you weak, “I'll bind him, you apply it.”
She nods, getting it ready, as you pull out two leather belts from your wardrobe and wrap them carefully around each of his wrists. You tie his injured arm down, looping the belt under the bed, to keep his shoulder as visible as possible and the other, to your bed posts, tightening them as much as you can.
You nod to her to start. She reaches in and scoops the thick, grey mixture out with her hands and rubs it gently onto the wound. But the moment it touches the broken skin, his body jolts and he lets out a scream that turns your blood to ice. Pain seizes your heart, finding it unbearable to watch him in such agony but you force your frozen limbs to move, to hold his body still as he writhes and thrashes on your bed.
He calls out your name, begging you to stop and you don't miss the questioning look Hester flashes you with, as you try your best to calm him with false promises.
“Do it quickly, please.” you say through gritted teeth, blinking back the tears pricking at your eyes.
His muscles strain against the leather binds, veins bulging in his neck as he calls out to you. Inside you're screaming, wanting nothing more than to end his pain and if you could transfer it from him to you, you wouldn't have to think twice about it. But unfortunately, that wasn't in your power element, you were only able to bring darkness and decay.
“Ok, done.” Her voice interrupts the screeching in your mind and silences it, just as Jungkook collapses back onto the bed.
Hester wraps his wound with bandages but you're unable to move, hands still on him where you were pinning him down. Eyes fixed on the wrinkle between his brow, still seeming tortured even in sleep.
She clears her throat, and snaps your attention back to her and it's only then you can feel the cold trail from tears on your cheeks. “Who is he?” she asks, almost as if she knows the answer already.
“Jungkook.”
Your voice comes out in a horse whisper as you stroke back the hair slicked to his forehead, smiling when he leans into your touch slightly.
“Well, now this makes sense.” she says quietly.
Clasping your hand in his, your thumb rubbing gentle circles on his wrist, as an attempt to comfort him and to let him know you're still with him.
“I need you to be prepared that this potion might not work,” she says quietly, hand on your shoulder, “and if he dies, the witch hunters will be coming and they will capture and kill us both.”
The image of his face starts to blur from the tears filling your eyes, the idea of him not making it didn't bear thinking about but it is a reality you should consider, you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. You knew the ripple effect his death would have, not just within his community, but on you too. And you did not want anyone in your path if that happened, you dread to think of the devastation your grieving could cause. And whatever fate awaits for you, you would accept it. But Hester shouldn't have to deal with the repercussions of your choices.
“No, you go. No one will know you were here.”
She squeezes your shoulder. “Not a chance, I'm not leaving you alone. I'll clean up, you sit with him.”
Her warmth from your side vanishes, as you hear her busy herself in your kitchen, deciding to settle into your armchair, pulling it as close to Jungkook as you could and taking his hand in yours again. You wait.
And wait.
Sometime later a blanket of darkness falls upon your room and Hester's footsteps are the only sound that fills the space as she lights all the candles you have scattered around your home. The amber light flickers against Jungkook's face making him look even more angelic where he lay. You watch his chest anxiously, ensuring there's still movement with each shallow, silent breath he takes.
“The other witch hunters will be scouting the area for him.” Hester’s voice whispers by your ear.
“I know, which is why you should go, you have the cover of darkness to use to your advantage. Muninn will accompany you and lead you out of the woods, he will tell me when you're home and safe.”
She hesitates, looking out the window. “I don't want to leave you.”
Your heart swells as you turn to her, taking her hand in yours and giving it an encouraging squeeze. “Hester, I'll be fine. I can take care of myself. Please, go. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you.”
She stares off into the night and you can practically see the cogs turning in her mind, before her resolve falters and she gives you a tight nod. “Stay safe.” she whispers, kissing you lightly on the cheek before grabbing her shawl and leaving you alone with your previous love, your raven hot on her tail.
As soon as the door closes behind them, Jungkook sits up suddenly with a gasp that has you at his side instantly.
“The witches…your old coven…” he gasps, chest heaving as he struggles for breath.
“Hey, it’s ok, you need to rest, calm down.” you attempt to reassure him with your hand on his chest, easing him back down to the bed but he fights you, muscles straining under your touch.
“No, you have to listen…I don’t have much time…”
You frown at his words, an urgency inside you to tell him he’s wrong almost interrupts him again but with each word he says his breath billows out in a mist around him and your heart plummets. The air around you becomes thick and uncomfortable, the candles seem to dim and the room shrinks into darkness as if being smothered in shadow. And when you glance down at your hands still against the hard planes of his chest you notice the goosebumps appearing in a rapid trail up your forearms, sending a shiver through your body that unnerves you. You know what's about to happen, you’ve seen this before, many times but denial has you ignoring the dark presence that has appeared beside you.
“You don’t understand,” he turns to you, his large ebony pools open and desperate, pleading with you to listen. “your old coven…I followed them last night…to dragon mountain.”
This catches your attention but the shadowed figure looming beside you steals your focus as reality slips through the hopefulness you’re trying to will into existence.
Jungkook reaches out and takes your hand, squeezing it and jolting you back to him. “I can see him and I know you can too, he’s here to take me, isn’t he?”
Your mouth opens but you can’t bring yourself to say the words, unwilling to believe them yourself.
“I need to tell you this first, please.” he frowns, wincing in pain as he lays down, and clutching at his shoulder, when you nod. “The witches…did something…forbidden,” he gasps, each breath more ragged by the second. “I watched them slaughter a dragon.”
Your back straightens so fast it’s as if someone shoved a hot poker straight up your spine. A small part of you wants to disagree and say that it must be a mistake but remembering that the reason you left the coven in the first place; for their growing use of dark magic, it silences any other thoughts. The figure beside you reaches a disfigured hand out towards Jungkook and panic swells in your throat concealing a scream that hurts your chest.
He arches his back, writhing in agony but he continues on, “They collected its blood in vials and took it.” he calls out, and suddenly your throat is contracting in a swallow in an attempt to wet your painfully dry mouth.
Glancing at the hooded shadow, face concealed in darkness as usual, now just as frozen as you are, you’re surprised when it nods at you, something it’s never done before. But this makes you relax a little, it’s giving you more time and your mind scrambles to think of a way to use it but what Jungkook is telling you has your blood curdling inside you.
“You know what they’ll do with it, don’t you?” he says through gritted teeth, panting and growling like a wild animal as his skin heats alarmingly beneath your touch.
You did. There was only one spell that required dragon's blood but it's so outlawed that no-one has tried to use it in a hundred years, not that you’re aware of.
Someone is trying to open a portal to hell, but why? And why would these witches do it, what could they possibly gain from that?
“You have to stop them.” he gasps, his breath seeming caught somewhere in his chest, the panic in his eyes as he meets yours slices into you like a knife, cutting your heart open and bleeding love in the expanse of your lonely cottage.
As the entity continues to reach out, panic squeezes your heart, feeling like it could burst and take the entire world with it.
“Wait…not yet…I’m sorry…I'm so sorry…” he continues, looking at you with wide, glassy eyes, “...I have always loved you. Forgive….me…” his body stills and voice fades out before he says that last word. Words that any other time you would have been desperate to hear, but not now, not when you can’t say anything back.
Your lungs burn with every raking breath, as you suck in air, in an attempt to release the suffocating pressure in your chest. Tears run wildly down your face, and the sound of a choked sob echoes in the room but something deep inside you boils, something you’ve never felt before…rising up until a bloodcurdling scream escapes and silences everything else around you. And the shadowed figure stills, just before its icy grip of death clasps Jungkook's arm, and its head turns slowly in your direction.
AYO???? im suing u for this??? ( i have a long list of people to sue ig ) but omg this was everythinggspoilers uunder cut
The little hints to the reader and jk's pas together?? delicious11 I cannot WAIT to read more of their dynamic ughghghhghg
Plus dragon blood being outlawed?? Opening a prtal to hell????? PLEASE I NEED MROE FEED ME JUICE SAY YO im literally typoing all over the plae because my jaw is dropped to the ground!!i
gnawing on my fingers for the next partssss thank u so much for participating in our event ley <33
Pairing: WitchHunterJeonJungkook! x WitchFemaleReader!
Summary: You like your cottage in the middle of the woods, away from everyone, and as a witch it offers you an element of protection. Until you find a witch hunter laying wounded and dying on your doorstep, you may be sworn enemies but you would not let him suffer the fate that awaits…especially not when you realise who he is.
Genre(s): Best friends to lovers / enemies to lovers / childhood friends to enemies to lovers / forbidden love / angst / fantasy au / witch/witchunter au
Rating: 18+ (NSFW) MDNI
Warnings: descriptions of wounds and blood / mentions of magical powers / potion making / the grim reaper / main character wounded / witchcraft
Word count: 3.5k
Banner: me
Moodboard: @anyamaris thank you, it's perfection!
Beta: @anyamaris I appreciate you!
A/N: This is for the @lapydiaries event ‘witch hunt’, as last minute Ley strikes again. This will be in at least three parts.
Today started off as any other ordinary day in your cottage in the woods, shrouded by overhanging leaves from the branches of the trees that surround your home, caging you in and making you feel safe and unseen; just how you like it.
Little did you know, when you awoke and opened the wooden shutters on your windows, greeting the dull, overcast morning accompanied by the sound of heavy rain, that you would have a rather unexpected visitor.
Very rarely do you invite anyone to your home and even more rarely for someone to stumble across it accidentally.
So when you open your front door to call to your companion–an elegant raven who has been by your side for years–you’re surprised to see a slumped figure, hunched over on your doorstep. Managing to catch yourself before falling over him, you straighten up and survey the landscape. Your eyes skim the trees for any other sign of life but sense nothing, before they fall back down to the man below you.
Crimson draws your attention to the top of his naked arm, a bite–with teeth marks big enough to have only come from a dragon and your heart sinks.
It's not being eaten by a dragon that most people fear, the beasts don't like the taste of humans anyway, but surviving the bite is something else entirely, something you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. From their teeth, a poison, slow but deadly, rampages inside until it's burning a pathway of fire in your veins, setting you alight from the inside till you're nothing left but ash.
Crouching beside him, you lift his long dark hair covering his face like a black veil, and place two fingers against his throat searching for any sign of life. A weak pulse throbs gently against your fingertips, he doesn't have much time and you don't have all of what you need to cure him here.
Placing two fingers in your mouth, you whistle loudly and your loyal bird swoops straight over, landing lightly on your shoulder.
“I need you to fly to the village, fetch Hester and tell her I need glacier water, ashes from the oak, and tears of the phoenix. Go.”
Her answering ‘caw’ echoes through the surrounding woodland as she flies away, quickly disappearing above the trees.
All you can do now is get him comfortable and try to limit his pain as much as possible until your friend arrives.
It’s only then that your eyes make out a dark shape through the congealed blood that had cascaded down his forearm, a familiar pattern on his skin you recognise. A tattoo, one you'd watched him have and held his hand through the pain.
Your heart hammers painfully in your chest, the sound, so furious, filling your ears you can no longer hear the raindrops pelting the leaves around you, only the incessant panicked beating of the organ that once belonged to this man.
Willing yourself to be wrong, you gently tilt his head back to lean against your doorframe and with it, his long hair parts completely, only to reveal your worst nightmare.
Jeon Jungkook.
Older since the last time you saw him but still with the same boyish, handsome face you remember. Seven years since he had crossed your path, seven years since you’d stared into his eyes or felt his lips pressed against yours, seven years since you knew what it felt like to be held in his arms.
A tightness squeezes your chest, making it hard to breathe as you reach out hesitantly with a trembling hand, cupping his face. Cold, clammy skin feels unnatural against your touch, too used to Jungkook’s smouldering warmth, even after all this time.
He stirs slightly and whispers your name. You couldn’t deny the pull it has inside you, not realising until this moment the lingering hold he still has over you.
“I'm here, Kookie. Let's get you inside.” you say gently, sounding much calmer than you felt.
Your chaotic thoughts bounce around inside your head, panic squeezing your heart in a vice but you have to move, he needs help and fast.
You place his uninjured arm around your shoulders and grab him firmly around his waist, hoisting him up, it uses all your strength, even with his feeble attempt to aid you. His legs buckle under him instantly and you yank him up with all your might to stop him from falling. The muscles in your back protest painfully from the movement but you ignore it and push through, leading him stumbling through your cottage.
You all but drop him onto your bed, lacking the strength for being delicate. Roughly, you pull off his vest, thick with blood which makes the leather look even darker, and toss it aside. You make sure he is as comfortable as you can, before you rush off, clattering about in your kitchen, bringing back your cauldron and as many vials and jars with exotic ingredients that could help him that you have.
Jungkook moans in agony, clutching at the gory bite on his shoulder and when your eyes dart back to him, the sallow grey of his skin and sheen of sweat that glistens across his body has your stomach tightening in sickening knots.
This only encourages your hands to move faster as you begin to pour things into your cauldron, making a start on a potion that might ease some of his pain.
Adding in chamomile and a sprinkle of lavender in hopes of soothing him, you quickly get a ladle of the unappealing wilted green mixture, thankful he's unconscious and unable to refuse you. Carefully you lift his head up and spoon small amounts of the liquid in, he drinks it slowly and when the whole spoonful is gone you lay him down again. There is nothing to do but wait for your friend Hester to arrive with the other necessary ingredients.
And so you sit and watch him. Watching his chest rise and fall slowly, listening to the sound of his laboured breathing, and as your eyes drift over him, you really notice how much he's changed over the years.
The skinny, awkward looking boy has been replaced by a man with solid muscle on every part of his body. His long hair splays out across your pillow, no doubt it reaches half way down his back. He now has three piercings in his bottom lip and a lot more in his ears, which he's decorated with small metal spikes that hang from the lobe, sharp enough to cut someone. Tattoos mark both his arms, his chest and stomach, patterns that you know are for a purpose to the Witch Hunters. Usually, for every witch they stop or kill, they get new markings and boy, does he have a lot.
For a brief moment you wonder what he would do to you if he were in better shape, but you have a history with him that dates back to your birth, and that has to count for something, right?
You were two souls who had been bound together since you entered the world. An agreement by your families that you would both make the strongest couple to continue on to lead the next generation of witch hunters…that is…until your powers came in when you came of age and spun your world on its axis.
Being ostracised from your home and community, being shunned by your friends and family, including your parents, who looked at you like you were a repulsive insect they’d rather squash than release into the wild, they were all bearable things compared to living without Jungkook. That had been something else entirely.
And now with his close proximity, you perch on the edge of your bed and reach out to touch your hand to his, hesitant but desperate for the feel of his warm touch against yours. Slowly your fingers brush against his calloused palms and almost as if it's instinctive, he weakly threads his fingers through yours. Looking back at him to see if he's conscious, his eyelids flutter open and find you instantly.
He whispers your name like it's the cure to heal him and your heart pulls to him so hard it nearly takes your breath away.
“How are you here?” he says, voice coarse and strained.
Leaning down, you stroke a strand of hair off of his sweaty face, “Don't you remember?” you ask, wanting to keep him awake as long as you can. He shakes his head slowly and winces.
“You were on my doorstep this morning.” you answer, watching him carefully but his eyelids slowly close again.
“I…didn't know…where else…to go.” he responds, before the blanket of sleep pulls him under again and you repeating his name does nothing to rouse him.
Panic squeezes your insides, making your lungs feel tight and unable to get enough air in and when your front door swings open, slamming against the wall, you almost send a bolt of death to the culprit.
Hester rushes in, arms full of ingredients, eyes unwavering from the stranger in your bed.
“I could have killed you.” you scold, standing and hurrying to her side to help.
“Sorry,” she winces as she quickly hands you vials and jars, “A dragon bite?” she asks and you respond with a curt nod. “I figured as much with the ingredients list Muninn said you need.” She nods her head towards the raven, now sitting on his perch in your kitchen. “How did you find him?”
You tell her about your morning and just before you both begin mixing the potion in the cauldron at the bedside, she freezes.
“Wait, he's a witch hunter.”
Looking up at her accusing stare, focused now on you, you pause briefly, “So…I'm supposed to let him die?”
For a moment she hesitates, “If he was awake, he'd slaughter us if he could.”
“He wouldn't, trust me.” you continue mixing, as she speaks out loud in the order she places them into the cauldron.
“Water from the stream on the winter mountain, scales from the ice salamander,” with every vial poured in you get closer to helping him but your fingers shake around the wooden spoon, under the pressure of his life in your hands, “ashes from the blessed oak tree, tears of the fire phoenix and dragonbone dust from the forbidden pit.”
You look at each other nervously when the mixture sparks and a cloud of smoke engulfs you both momentarily before dissipating in the air around you.
“I'll bind his wrists, he won't like you putting this on one bit.” she whispers, glancing nervously at him as if he's a snake that could strike at any moment.
“No.” you say quickly, your heart making you weak, “I'll bind him, you apply it.”
She nods, getting it ready, as you pull out two leather belts from your wardrobe and wrap them carefully around each of his wrists. You tie his injured arm down, looping the belt under the bed, to keep his shoulder as visible as possible and the other, to your bed posts, tightening them as much as you can.
You nod to her to start. She reaches in and scoops the thick, grey mixture out with her hands and rubs it gently onto the wound. But the moment it touches the broken skin, his body jolts and he lets out a scream that turns your blood to ice. Pain seizes your heart, finding it unbearable to watch him in such agony but you force your frozen limbs to move, to hold his body still as he writhes and thrashes on your bed.
He calls out your name, begging you to stop and you don't miss the questioning look Hester flashes you with, as you try your best to calm him with false promises.
“Do it quickly, please.” you say through gritted teeth, blinking back the tears pricking at your eyes.
His muscles strain against the leather binds, veins bulging in his neck as he calls out to you. Inside you're screaming, wanting nothing more than to end his pain and if you could transfer it from him to you, you wouldn't have to think twice about it. But unfortunately, that wasn't in your power element, you were only able to bring darkness and decay.
“Ok, done.” Her voice interrupts the screeching in your mind and silences it, just as Jungkook collapses back onto the bed.
Hester wraps his wound with bandages but you're unable to move, hands still on him where you were pinning him down. Eyes fixed on the wrinkle between his brow, still seeming tortured even in sleep.
She clears her throat, and snaps your attention back to her and it's only then you can feel the cold trail from tears on your cheeks. “Who is he?” she asks, almost as if she knows the answer already.
“Jungkook.”
Your voice comes out in a horse whisper as you stroke back the hair slicked to his forehead, smiling when he leans into your touch slightly.
“Well, now this makes sense.” she says quietly.
Clasping your hand in his, your thumb rubbing gentle circles on his wrist, as an attempt to comfort him and to let him know you're still with him.
“I need you to be prepared that this potion might not work,” she says quietly, hand on your shoulder, “and if he dies, the witch hunters will be coming and they will capture and kill us both.”
The image of his face starts to blur from the tears filling your eyes, the idea of him not making it didn't bear thinking about but it is a reality you should consider, you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. You knew the ripple effect his death would have, not just within his community, but on you too. And you did not want anyone in your path if that happened, you dread to think of the devastation your grieving could cause. And whatever fate awaits for you, you would accept it. But Hester shouldn't have to deal with the repercussions of your choices.
“No, you go. No one will know you were here.”
She squeezes your shoulder. “Not a chance, I'm not leaving you alone. I'll clean up, you sit with him.”
Her warmth from your side vanishes, as you hear her busy herself in your kitchen, deciding to settle into your armchair, pulling it as close to Jungkook as you could and taking his hand in yours again. You wait.
And wait.
Sometime later a blanket of darkness falls upon your room and Hester's footsteps are the only sound that fills the space as she lights all the candles you have scattered around your home. The amber light flickers against Jungkook's face making him look even more angelic where he lay. You watch his chest anxiously, ensuring there's still movement with each shallow, silent breath he takes.
“The other witch hunters will be scouting the area for him.” Hester’s voice whispers by your ear.
“I know, which is why you should go, you have the cover of darkness to use to your advantage. Muninn will accompany you and lead you out of the woods, he will tell me when you're home and safe.”
She hesitates, looking out the window. “I don't want to leave you.”
Your heart swells as you turn to her, taking her hand in yours and giving it an encouraging squeeze. “Hester, I'll be fine. I can take care of myself. Please, go. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you.”
She stares off into the night and you can practically see the cogs turning in her mind, before her resolve falters and she gives you a tight nod. “Stay safe.” she whispers, kissing you lightly on the cheek before grabbing her shawl and leaving you alone with your previous love, your raven hot on her tail.
As soon as the door closes behind them, Jungkook sits up suddenly with a gasp that has you at his side instantly.
“The witches…your old coven…” he gasps, chest heaving as he struggles for breath.
“Hey, it’s ok, you need to rest, calm down.” you attempt to reassure him with your hand on his chest, easing him back down to the bed but he fights you, muscles straining under your touch.
“No, you have to listen…I don’t have much time…”
You frown at his words, an urgency inside you to tell him he’s wrong almost interrupts him again but with each word he says his breath billows out in a mist around him and your heart plummets. The air around you becomes thick and uncomfortable, the candles seem to dim and the room shrinks into darkness as if being smothered in shadow. And when you glance down at your hands still against the hard planes of his chest you notice the goosebumps appearing in a rapid trail up your forearms, sending a shiver through your body that unnerves you. You know what's about to happen, you’ve seen this before, many times but denial has you ignoring the dark presence that has appeared beside you.
“You don’t understand,” he turns to you, his large ebony pools open and desperate, pleading with you to listen. “your old coven…I followed them last night…to dragon mountain.”
This catches your attention but the shadowed figure looming beside you steals your focus as reality slips through the hopefulness you’re trying to will into existence.
Jungkook reaches out and takes your hand, squeezing it and jolting you back to him. “I can see him and I know you can too, he’s here to take me, isn’t he?”
Your mouth opens but you can’t bring yourself to say the words, unwilling to believe them yourself.
“I need to tell you this first, please.” he frowns, wincing in pain as he lays down, and clutching at his shoulder, when you nod. “The witches…did something…forbidden,” he gasps, each breath more ragged by the second. “I watched them slaughter a dragon.”
Your back straightens so fast it’s as if someone shoved a hot poker straight up your spine. A small part of you wants to disagree and say that it must be a mistake but remembering that the reason you left the coven in the first place; for their growing use of dark magic, it silences any other thoughts. The figure beside you reaches a disfigured hand out towards Jungkook and panic swells in your throat concealing a scream that hurts your chest.
He arches his back, writhing in agony but he continues on, “They collected its blood in vials and took it.” he calls out, and suddenly your throat is contracting in a swallow in an attempt to wet your painfully dry mouth.
Glancing at the hooded shadow, face concealed in darkness as usual, now just as frozen as you are, you’re surprised when it nods at you, something it’s never done before. But this makes you relax a little, it’s giving you more time and your mind scrambles to think of a way to use it but what Jungkook is telling you has your blood curdling inside you.
“You know what they’ll do with it, don’t you?” he says through gritted teeth, panting and growling like a wild animal as his skin heats alarmingly beneath your touch.
You did. There was only one spell that required dragon's blood but it's so outlawed that no-one has tried to use it in a hundred years, not that you’re aware of.
Someone is trying to open a portal to hell, but why? And why would these witches do it, what could they possibly gain from that?
“You have to stop them.” he gasps, his breath seeming caught somewhere in his chest, the panic in his eyes as he meets yours slices into you like a knife, cutting your heart open and bleeding love in the expanse of your lonely cottage.
As the entity continues to reach out, panic squeezes your heart, feeling like it could burst and take the entire world with it.
“Wait…not yet…I’m sorry…I'm so sorry…” he continues, looking at you with wide, glassy eyes, “...I have always loved you. Forgive….me…” his body stills and voice fades out before he says that last word. Words that any other time you would have been desperate to hear, but not now, not when you can’t say anything back.
Your lungs burn with every raking breath, as you suck in air, in an attempt to release the suffocating pressure in your chest. Tears run wildly down your face, and the sound of a choked sob echoes in the room but something deep inside you boils, something you’ve never felt before…rising up until a bloodcurdling scream escapes and silences everything else around you. And the shadowed figure stills, just before its icy grip of death clasps Jungkook's arm, and its head turns slowly in your direction.
Pairing: WitchHunterJeonJungkook! x WitchFemaleReader!
Summary: You like your cottage in the middle of the woods, away from everyone, and as a witch it offers you an element of protection. Until you find a witch hunter laying wounded and dying on your doorstep, you may be sworn enemies but you would not let him suffer the fate that awaits…especially not when you realise who he is.
Genre(s): Best friends to lovers / enemies to lovers / childhood friends to enemies to lovers / forbidden love / angst / fantasy au / witch/witchunter au
Rating: 18+ (NSFW) MDNI
Warnings: descriptions of wounds and blood / mentions of magical powers / potion making / the grim reaper / main character wounded / witchcraft
Word count: 3.5k
Banner: me
Moodboard: @anyamaris thank you, it's perfection!
Beta: @anyamaris I appreciate you!
A/N: This is for the @lapydiaries event ‘witch hunt’, as last minute Ley strikes again. This will be in at least three parts.
Today started off as any other ordinary day in your cottage in the woods, shrouded by overhanging leaves from the branches of the trees that surround your home, caging you in and making you feel safe and unseen; just how you like it.
Little did you know, when you awoke and opened the wooden shutters on your windows, greeting the dull, overcast morning accompanied by the sound of heavy rain, that you would have a rather unexpected visitor.
Very rarely do you invite anyone to your home and even more rarely for someone to stumble across it accidentally.
So when you open your front door to call to your companion–an elegant raven who has been by your side for years–you’re surprised to see a slumped figure, hunched over on your doorstep. Managing to catch yourself before falling over him, you straighten up and survey the landscape. Your eyes skim the trees for any other sign of life but sense nothing, before they fall back down to the man below you.
Crimson draws your attention to the top of his naked arm, a bite–with teeth marks big enough to have only come from a dragon and your heart sinks.
It's not being eaten by a dragon that most people fear, the beasts don't like the taste of humans anyway, but surviving the bite is something else entirely, something you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. From their teeth, a poison, slow but deadly, rampages inside until it's burning a pathway of fire in your veins, setting you alight from the inside till you're nothing left but ash.
Crouching beside him, you lift his long dark hair covering his face like a black veil, and place two fingers against his throat searching for any sign of life. A weak pulse throbs gently against your fingertips, he doesn't have much time and you don't have all of what you need to cure him here.
Placing two fingers in your mouth, you whistle loudly and your loyal bird swoops straight over, landing lightly on your shoulder.
“I need you to fly to the village, fetch Hester and tell her I need glacier water, ashes from the oak, and tears of the phoenix. Go.”
Her answering ‘caw’ echoes through the surrounding woodland as she flies away, quickly disappearing above the trees.
All you can do now is get him comfortable and try to limit his pain as much as possible until your friend arrives.
It’s only then that your eyes make out a dark shape through the congealed blood that had cascaded down his forearm, a familiar pattern on his skin you recognise. A tattoo, one you'd watched him have and held his hand through the pain.
Your heart hammers painfully in your chest, the sound, so furious, filling your ears you can no longer hear the raindrops pelting the leaves around you, only the incessant panicked beating of the organ that once belonged to this man.
Willing yourself to be wrong, you gently tilt his head back to lean against your doorframe and with it, his long hair parts completely, only to reveal your worst nightmare.
Jeon Jungkook.
Older since the last time you saw him but still with the same boyish, handsome face you remember. Seven years since he had crossed your path, seven years since you’d stared into his eyes or felt his lips pressed against yours, seven years since you knew what it felt like to be held in his arms.
A tightness squeezes your chest, making it hard to breathe as you reach out hesitantly with a trembling hand, cupping his face. Cold, clammy skin feels unnatural against your touch, too used to Jungkook’s smouldering warmth, even after all this time.
He stirs slightly and whispers your name. You couldn’t deny the pull it has inside you, not realising until this moment the lingering hold he still has over you.
“I'm here, Kookie. Let's get you inside.” you say gently, sounding much calmer than you felt.
Your chaotic thoughts bounce around inside your head, panic squeezing your heart in a vice but you have to move, he needs help and fast.
You place his uninjured arm around your shoulders and grab him firmly around his waist, hoisting him up, it uses all your strength, even with his feeble attempt to aid you. His legs buckle under him instantly and you yank him up with all your might to stop him from falling. The muscles in your back protest painfully from the movement but you ignore it and push through, leading him stumbling through your cottage.
You all but drop him onto your bed, lacking the strength for being delicate. Roughly, you pull off his vest, thick with blood which makes the leather look even darker, and toss it aside. You make sure he is as comfortable as you can, before you rush off, clattering about in your kitchen, bringing back your cauldron and as many vials and jars with exotic ingredients that could help him that you have.
Jungkook moans in agony, clutching at the gory bite on his shoulder and when your eyes dart back to him, the sallow grey of his skin and sheen of sweat that glistens across his body has your stomach tightening in sickening knots.
This only encourages your hands to move faster as you begin to pour things into your cauldron, making a start on a potion that might ease some of his pain.
Adding in chamomile and a sprinkle of lavender in hopes of soothing him, you quickly get a ladle of the unappealing wilted green mixture, thankful he's unconscious and unable to refuse you. Carefully you lift his head up and spoon small amounts of the liquid in, he drinks it slowly and when the whole spoonful is gone you lay him down again. There is nothing to do but wait for your friend Hester to arrive with the other necessary ingredients.
And so you sit and watch him. Watching his chest rise and fall slowly, listening to the sound of his laboured breathing, and as your eyes drift over him, you really notice how much he's changed over the years.
The skinny, awkward looking boy has been replaced by a man with solid muscle on every part of his body. His long hair splays out across your pillow, no doubt it reaches half way down his back. He now has three piercings in his bottom lip and a lot more in his ears, which he's decorated with small metal spikes that hang from the lobe, sharp enough to cut someone. Tattoos mark both his arms, his chest and stomach, patterns that you know are for a purpose to the Witch Hunters. Usually, for every witch they stop or kill, they get new markings and boy, does he have a lot.
For a brief moment you wonder what he would do to you if he were in better shape, but you have a history with him that dates back to your birth, and that has to count for something, right?
You were two souls who had been bound together since you entered the world. An agreement by your families that you would both make the strongest couple to continue on to lead the next generation of witch hunters…that is…until your powers came in when you came of age and spun your world on its axis.
Being ostracised from your home and community, being shunned by your friends and family, including your parents, who looked at you like you were a repulsive insect they’d rather squash than release into the wild, they were all bearable things compared to living without Jungkook. That had been something else entirely.
And now with his close proximity, you perch on the edge of your bed and reach out to touch your hand to his, hesitant but desperate for the feel of his warm touch against yours. Slowly your fingers brush against his calloused palms and almost as if it's instinctive, he weakly threads his fingers through yours. Looking back at him to see if he's conscious, his eyelids flutter open and find you instantly.
He whispers your name like it's the cure to heal him and your heart pulls to him so hard it nearly takes your breath away.
“How are you here?” he says, voice coarse and strained.
Leaning down, you stroke a strand of hair off of his sweaty face, “Don't you remember?” you ask, wanting to keep him awake as long as you can. He shakes his head slowly and winces.
“You were on my doorstep this morning.” you answer, watching him carefully but his eyelids slowly close again.
“I…didn't know…where else…to go.” he responds, before the blanket of sleep pulls him under again and you repeating his name does nothing to rouse him.
Panic squeezes your insides, making your lungs feel tight and unable to get enough air in and when your front door swings open, slamming against the wall, you almost send a bolt of death to the culprit.
Hester rushes in, arms full of ingredients, eyes unwavering from the stranger in your bed.
“I could have killed you.” you scold, standing and hurrying to her side to help.
“Sorry,” she winces as she quickly hands you vials and jars, “A dragon bite?” she asks and you respond with a curt nod. “I figured as much with the ingredients list Muninn said you need.” She nods her head towards the raven, now sitting on his perch in your kitchen. “How did you find him?”
You tell her about your morning and just before you both begin mixing the potion in the cauldron at the bedside, she freezes.
“Wait, he's a witch hunter.”
Looking up at her accusing stare, focused now on you, you pause briefly, “So…I'm supposed to let him die?”
For a moment she hesitates, “If he was awake, he'd slaughter us if he could.”
“He wouldn't, trust me.” you continue mixing, as she speaks out loud in the order she places them into the cauldron.
“Water from the stream on the winter mountain, scales from the ice salamander,” with every vial poured in you get closer to helping him but your fingers shake around the wooden spoon, under the pressure of his life in your hands, “ashes from the blessed oak tree, tears of the fire phoenix and dragonbone dust from the forbidden pit.”
You look at each other nervously when the mixture sparks and a cloud of smoke engulfs you both momentarily before dissipating in the air around you.
“I'll bind his wrists, he won't like you putting this on one bit.” she whispers, glancing nervously at him as if he's a snake that could strike at any moment.
“No.” you say quickly, your heart making you weak, “I'll bind him, you apply it.”
She nods, getting it ready, as you pull out two leather belts from your wardrobe and wrap them carefully around each of his wrists. You tie his injured arm down, looping the belt under the bed, to keep his shoulder as visible as possible and the other, to your bed posts, tightening them as much as you can.
You nod to her to start. She reaches in and scoops the thick, grey mixture out with her hands and rubs it gently onto the wound. But the moment it touches the broken skin, his body jolts and he lets out a scream that turns your blood to ice. Pain seizes your heart, finding it unbearable to watch him in such agony but you force your frozen limbs to move, to hold his body still as he writhes and thrashes on your bed.
He calls out your name, begging you to stop and you don't miss the questioning look Hester flashes you with, as you try your best to calm him with false promises.
“Do it quickly, please.” you say through gritted teeth, blinking back the tears pricking at your eyes.
His muscles strain against the leather binds, veins bulging in his neck as he calls out to you. Inside you're screaming, wanting nothing more than to end his pain and if you could transfer it from him to you, you wouldn't have to think twice about it. But unfortunately, that wasn't in your power element, you were only able to bring darkness and decay.
“Ok, done.” Her voice interrupts the screeching in your mind and silences it, just as Jungkook collapses back onto the bed.
Hester wraps his wound with bandages but you're unable to move, hands still on him where you were pinning him down. Eyes fixed on the wrinkle between his brow, still seeming tortured even in sleep.
She clears her throat, and snaps your attention back to her and it's only then you can feel the cold trail from tears on your cheeks. “Who is he?” she asks, almost as if she knows the answer already.
“Jungkook.”
Your voice comes out in a horse whisper as you stroke back the hair slicked to his forehead, smiling when he leans into your touch slightly.
“Well, now this makes sense.” she says quietly.
Clasping your hand in his, your thumb rubbing gentle circles on his wrist, as an attempt to comfort him and to let him know you're still with him.
“I need you to be prepared that this potion might not work,” she says quietly, hand on your shoulder, “and if he dies, the witch hunters will be coming and they will capture and kill us both.”
The image of his face starts to blur from the tears filling your eyes, the idea of him not making it didn't bear thinking about but it is a reality you should consider, you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. You knew the ripple effect his death would have, not just within his community, but on you too. And you did not want anyone in your path if that happened, you dread to think of the devastation your grieving could cause. And whatever fate awaits for you, you would accept it. But Hester shouldn't have to deal with the repercussions of your choices.
“No, you go. No one will know you were here.”
She squeezes your shoulder. “Not a chance, I'm not leaving you alone. I'll clean up, you sit with him.”
Her warmth from your side vanishes, as you hear her busy herself in your kitchen, deciding to settle into your armchair, pulling it as close to Jungkook as you could and taking his hand in yours again. You wait.
And wait.
Sometime later a blanket of darkness falls upon your room and Hester's footsteps are the only sound that fills the space as she lights all the candles you have scattered around your home. The amber light flickers against Jungkook's face making him look even more angelic where he lay. You watch his chest anxiously, ensuring there's still movement with each shallow, silent breath he takes.
“The other witch hunters will be scouting the area for him.” Hester’s voice whispers by your ear.
“I know, which is why you should go, you have the cover of darkness to use to your advantage. Muninn will accompany you and lead you out of the woods, he will tell me when you're home and safe.”
She hesitates, looking out the window. “I don't want to leave you.”
Your heart swells as you turn to her, taking her hand in yours and giving it an encouraging squeeze. “Hester, I'll be fine. I can take care of myself. Please, go. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you.”
She stares off into the night and you can practically see the cogs turning in her mind, before her resolve falters and she gives you a tight nod. “Stay safe.” she whispers, kissing you lightly on the cheek before grabbing her shawl and leaving you alone with your previous love, your raven hot on her tail.
As soon as the door closes behind them, Jungkook sits up suddenly with a gasp that has you at his side instantly.
“The witches…your old coven…” he gasps, chest heaving as he struggles for breath.
“Hey, it’s ok, you need to rest, calm down.” you attempt to reassure him with your hand on his chest, easing him back down to the bed but he fights you, muscles straining under your touch.
“No, you have to listen…I don’t have much time…”
You frown at his words, an urgency inside you to tell him he’s wrong almost interrupts him again but with each word he says his breath billows out in a mist around him and your heart plummets. The air around you becomes thick and uncomfortable, the candles seem to dim and the room shrinks into darkness as if being smothered in shadow. And when you glance down at your hands still against the hard planes of his chest you notice the goosebumps appearing in a rapid trail up your forearms, sending a shiver through your body that unnerves you. You know what's about to happen, you’ve seen this before, many times but denial has you ignoring the dark presence that has appeared beside you.
“You don’t understand,” he turns to you, his large ebony pools open and desperate, pleading with you to listen. “your old coven…I followed them last night…to dragon mountain.”
This catches your attention but the shadowed figure looming beside you steals your focus as reality slips through the hopefulness you’re trying to will into existence.
Jungkook reaches out and takes your hand, squeezing it and jolting you back to him. “I can see him and I know you can too, he’s here to take me, isn’t he?”
Your mouth opens but you can’t bring yourself to say the words, unwilling to believe them yourself.
“I need to tell you this first, please.” he frowns, wincing in pain as he lays down, and clutching at his shoulder, when you nod. “The witches…did something…forbidden,” he gasps, each breath more ragged by the second. “I watched them slaughter a dragon.”
Your back straightens so fast it’s as if someone shoved a hot poker straight up your spine. A small part of you wants to disagree and say that it must be a mistake but remembering that the reason you left the coven in the first place; for their growing use of dark magic, it silences any other thoughts. The figure beside you reaches a disfigured hand out towards Jungkook and panic swells in your throat concealing a scream that hurts your chest.
He arches his back, writhing in agony but he continues on, “They collected its blood in vials and took it.” he calls out, and suddenly your throat is contracting in a swallow in an attempt to wet your painfully dry mouth.
Glancing at the hooded shadow, face concealed in darkness as usual, now just as frozen as you are, you’re surprised when it nods at you, something it’s never done before. But this makes you relax a little, it’s giving you more time and your mind scrambles to think of a way to use it but what Jungkook is telling you has your blood curdling inside you.
“You know what they’ll do with it, don’t you?” he says through gritted teeth, panting and growling like a wild animal as his skin heats alarmingly beneath your touch.
You did. There was only one spell that required dragon's blood but it's so outlawed that no-one has tried to use it in a hundred years, not that you’re aware of.
Someone is trying to open a portal to hell, but why? And why would these witches do it, what could they possibly gain from that?
“You have to stop them.” he gasps, his breath seeming caught somewhere in his chest, the panic in his eyes as he meets yours slices into you like a knife, cutting your heart open and bleeding love in the expanse of your lonely cottage.
As the entity continues to reach out, panic squeezes your heart, feeling like it could burst and take the entire world with it.
“Wait…not yet…I’m sorry…I'm so sorry…” he continues, looking at you with wide, glassy eyes, “...I have always loved you. Forgive….me…” his body stills and voice fades out before he says that last word. Words that any other time you would have been desperate to hear, but not now, not when you can’t say anything back.
Your lungs burn with every raking breath, as you suck in air, in an attempt to release the suffocating pressure in your chest. Tears run wildly down your face, and the sound of a choked sob echoes in the room but something deep inside you boils, something you’ve never felt before…rising up until a bloodcurdling scream escapes and silences everything else around you. And the shadowed figure stills, just before its icy grip of death clasps Jungkook's arm, and its head turns slowly in your direction.
My goodness, it never fails to astound me how thorough you are with your reviews, honestly, I was grinning like a Cheshire cat reading through your feedback!
I'm so so glad you enjoyed it, pointing out all the little details I tried so hard to put in, the potion making, the ravens name! (Well done), and even guessing her power so I know it's come across how I intended it.
Thank you so much for reading, even if I've now filled your Jungkook quota for the year already 🤣
⟡☾⚝☽⟡Mses. Pearl, Obsidian, Smoky Quartz & Agate are proud to present our first anniversary event's Masterlist!⟡☾⚝☽⟡
The witches of the world are being persecuted. Mobs of ignorant people join together to single them out. Hunters are hired, intent on flushing out their prey from their homes. Will you be the hunter or the hunted?
⟡☾⚝☽⟡Coven's Circle⟡☾⚝☽⟡
Fics:
@sanjoongie's The Witch's Axe
@anyamaris's Wake Up
@pars-ley's Kiss of Death
@galaxystardragoness's Midnight Hunt
@potatomountain's Sweet Fairy
@mingsolo's Blades & Potions
@daemour's Between Spells
Graphics:
@choisanstiddies's Une malediction du coeur
@thelargefrye's Dragon from the Window: New Divide
Thank you for all your lovely stories and sharing it with our net!
Summary: When a mutual friend convinces you Jimin has liked you forever, you use the upcoming costume party to reveal your feelings.
Genre: friends to lovers / smut / drabble /costume party au
Rating: 18+ (NSFW) MDNI
Warnings: unprotected sex (PiV) / seduction / making out / cumshot /
Word count: 1k
Banner: @hobeemin an absolute queen
Beta: none as last minute Ley stricks again
A/N: This is for kvanity’s halloween bingo event, i used the square “costume party”
“He said he’s been into you for years but never made a move because he didn’t think you were into him.”
The words ring out inside your head, as you sit on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for Jimin to enter the spare bedroom.
Jungkook’s annual halloween costume party has arrived and your entire friend group is here, as well as other people from your University. And so, at the advice of your dear friend, you chose tonight, and his party, to finally make your move. Jungkook had insisted Jimin has been harbouring secret feelings for you, leading you in deciding tonight would end both of your mutual pining.
You had told Jimin to meet you up here in five minutes but while you wait, time seems to stand still.
Will he even show up?
With that thought the door opens and his handsome face peers in.
“Hey,” he starts, coming in and closing the door behind him, “Is everything ok?”
Always the most kind and caring friend you have, so you’re not surprised by the worry on his face.
“Yes, everything’s great.” you say, standing and walking slowly towards him, admiring his red, leather devil costume coupled with his pitchfork. “There’s just something I need your help with.”
His eyes roam down your body, much to your satisfaction, lingering on the red fishnets of your matching devil outfit. “Of course, I’ll help you with whatever you need,” he says quickly.
Closing the space between you, you take his hand in yours and place it on the inside of your thigh.
“Um…what are you doing?” he asks, eyes wide with surprise but keeping it in place.
“I have this ache,” you say, sliding his hand up your leg, “and I can’t seem to get rid of it.”
He swallows hard, your eyes travelling to his adams apple as it bobs up and down.
“I think you could help me get rid of it though…if you’d like to?”
He looks up at your eyes, searching for something sincere and it makes you smile, before he whispers hoarsely, “Is that…what you would like?”
You move his hand to your sex and he cups it, nostrils flaring with barely controlled want.
“Yes, it is.”
The words are barely out of your mouth before he’s capturing your lips with his in a passionate dance and walking you backwards. His arms snake around your waist, holding you firm, as if frightened you’ll disappear and when the back of your knees hit the bed frame, he holds you tighter still as you both collapse on the mattress.
You’re shrugging him out of his jacket and tossing it to the side, before going straight to the button of his red, leather trousers. You’ve waited too long to take this slow, he’s tortured you enough just by being himself and you couldn’t wait to have him inside you.
He lifts up your very short dress and hooks his fingers into your lace panties, moving them aside. He pulls his hard cock out of his boxers and lines himself up at your entrance before hesitating, looking down at you with a questioning stare. “I don’t want this to be just a one time thing.”
Your heart swells in your chest at the gentleman he always is. “Neither do I, which is why we’re going out for breakfast in the morning.”
He grins down at you. “Our first date?”
Nodding, you pull him down to kiss you again, now that you’ve tasted his full lips, you needed more.
He slides slowly into you, allowing you to adjust as he bottoms out. Your moans sound out loudly in unison and you both freeze.
“We should try and be quiet.” you say, “Seeing as it’s Jungkook’s house and all.”
You both chuckle as he starts to move, quickly removing all traces of humour.
“You’re so fucking wet.” he gasps, as he expertly thrusts his hips in such a way he reaches places inside you that you didn't know existed.
With each ram inside you, he hits that spot perfectly each time, making you want to scream.
Your toes curl as you wrap your legs around his waist, using them to guide him deeper into you. You sigh his name as your back arches beneath him and his lips find your throat, leaving a trail of wet kisses along the sensitive flesh.
“I’ve wanted this for so long.” he admits, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“Me too.” you confess, “Fuck, Jimin, make me yours.”
He picks up his pace, grinding into you and making that cord inside you tighten much quicker than you anticipated. His pelvis rubs against your swollen clit with every thrust and it's enough to have that cord unravel, as you convulse wildly around his cock.
“Oh, yes,” he says, watching as you ride out your high, “I'm going to…”
Suddenly, he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty, as he pumps himself until he releases his warm, milky seed all over your sated cunt.
He collapses next to you, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you closed, you nuzzle into his neck, planting feather light kisses along his skin.
“That was better than I’ve ever imagined.” he says, interrupting your heavy panting as you try to catch your breath, while silently agreeing with his statement.
“Can I ask you something?” he adds.
“Of course.”
“Why did you choose a devil costume?”
Smiling, you admit sheepishly, “Horny devil. It was my plan to seduce you.”
He chuckles, “You didn’t need to seduce me but it definitely worked.”
“What about you?” you ask, looking up at him.
A blush spreads across his cheeks and it makes desire pool in your belly again, “I thought it would make you notice me more, if you saw I had a sexy side too.”
Your chest tightens, a well of emotion more powerful than you were expecting. “Jimin, I’ve always noticed you…and i’ve always thought you were sexy. Even without the pitchfork.”
He laughs, picking it up from the bed, “Hey, if you like it, let's take it back to your place and I'll show you just how devilish I can be.”
The dark, heated look he gives you has your stomach flipping in anticipation. You are in for a long, pleasure filled night. Who says bad girls don’t get what they want?
Pairing: WitchHunterJeonJungkook! x WitchFemaleReader!
Summary: You like your cottage in the middle of the woods, away from everyone, and as a witch it offers you an element of protection. Until you find a witch hunter laying wounded and dying on your doorstep, you may be sworn enemies but you would not let him suffer the fate that awaits…especially not when you realise who he is.
Genre(s): Best friends to lovers / enemies to lovers / childhood friends to enemies to lovers / forbidden love / angst / fantasy au / witch/witchunter au
Rating: 18+ (NSFW) MDNI
Warnings: descriptions of wounds and blood / mentions of magical powers / potion making / the grim reaper / main character wounded / witchcraft
Word count: 3.5k
Banner: me
Moodboard: @anyamaris thank you, it's perfection!
Beta: @anyamaris I appreciate you!
A/N: This is for the @lapydiaries event ‘witch hunt’, as last minute Ley strikes again. This will be in at least three parts.
Today started off as any other ordinary day in your cottage in the woods, shrouded by overhanging leaves from the branches of the trees that surround your home, caging you in and making you feel safe and unseen; just how you like it.
Little did you know, when you awoke and opened the wooden shutters on your windows, greeting the dull, overcast morning accompanied by the sound of heavy rain, that you would have a rather unexpected visitor.
Very rarely do you invite anyone to your home and even more rarely for someone to stumble across it accidentally.
So when you open your front door to call to your companion–an elegant raven who has been by your side for years–you’re surprised to see a slumped figure, hunched over on your doorstep. Managing to catch yourself before falling over him, you straighten up and survey the landscape. Your eyes skim the trees for any other sign of life but sense nothing, before they fall back down to the man below you.
Crimson draws your attention to the top of his naked arm, a bite–with teeth marks big enough to have only come from a dragon and your heart sinks.
It's not being eaten by a dragon that most people fear, the beasts don't like the taste of humans anyway, but surviving the bite is something else entirely, something you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. From their teeth, a poison, slow but deadly, rampages inside until it's burning a pathway of fire in your veins, setting you alight from the inside till you're nothing left but ash.
Crouching beside him, you lift his long dark hair covering his face like a black veil, and place two fingers against his throat searching for any sign of life. A weak pulse throbs gently against your fingertips, he doesn't have much time and you don't have all of what you need to cure him here.
Placing two fingers in your mouth, you whistle loudly and your loyal bird swoops straight over, landing lightly on your shoulder.
“I need you to fly to the village, fetch Hester and tell her I need glacier water, ashes from the oak, and tears of the phoenix. Go.”
Her answering ‘caw’ echoes through the surrounding woodland as she flies away, quickly disappearing above the trees.
All you can do now is get him comfortable and try to limit his pain as much as possible until your friend arrives.
It’s only then that your eyes make out a dark shape through the congealed blood that had cascaded down his forearm, a familiar pattern on his skin you recognise. A tattoo, one you'd watched him have and held his hand through the pain.
Your heart hammers painfully in your chest, the sound, so furious, filling your ears you can no longer hear the raindrops pelting the leaves around you, only the incessant panicked beating of the organ that once belonged to this man.
Willing yourself to be wrong, you gently tilt his head back to lean against your doorframe and with it, his long hair parts completely, only to reveal your worst nightmare.
Jeon Jungkook.
Older since the last time you saw him but still with the same boyish, handsome face you remember. Seven years since he had crossed your path, seven years since you’d stared into his eyes or felt his lips pressed against yours, seven years since you knew what it felt like to be held in his arms.
A tightness squeezes your chest, making it hard to breathe as you reach out hesitantly with a trembling hand, cupping his face. Cold, clammy skin feels unnatural against your touch, too used to Jungkook’s smouldering warmth, even after all this time.
He stirs slightly and whispers your name. You couldn’t deny the pull it has inside you, not realising until this moment the lingering hold he still has over you.
“I'm here, Kookie. Let's get you inside.” you say gently, sounding much calmer than you felt.
Your chaotic thoughts bounce around inside your head, panic squeezing your heart in a vice but you have to move, he needs help and fast.
You place his uninjured arm around your shoulders and grab him firmly around his waist, hoisting him up, it uses all your strength, even with his feeble attempt to aid you. His legs buckle under him instantly and you yank him up with all your might to stop him from falling. The muscles in your back protest painfully from the movement but you ignore it and push through, leading him stumbling through your cottage.
You all but drop him onto your bed, lacking the strength for being delicate. Roughly, you pull off his vest, thick with blood which makes the leather look even darker, and toss it aside. You make sure he is as comfortable as you can, before you rush off, clattering about in your kitchen, bringing back your cauldron and as many vials and jars with exotic ingredients that could help him that you have.
Jungkook moans in agony, clutching at the gory bite on his shoulder and when your eyes dart back to him, the sallow grey of his skin and sheen of sweat that glistens across his body has your stomach tightening in sickening knots.
This only encourages your hands to move faster as you begin to pour things into your cauldron, making a start on a potion that might ease some of his pain.
Adding in chamomile and a sprinkle of lavender in hopes of soothing him, you quickly get a ladle of the unappealing wilted green mixture, thankful he's unconscious and unable to refuse you. Carefully you lift his head up and spoon small amounts of the liquid in, he drinks it slowly and when the whole spoonful is gone you lay him down again. There is nothing to do but wait for your friend Hester to arrive with the other necessary ingredients.
And so you sit and watch him. Watching his chest rise and fall slowly, listening to the sound of his laboured breathing, and as your eyes drift over him, you really notice how much he's changed over the years.
The skinny, awkward looking boy has been replaced by a man with solid muscle on every part of his body. His long hair splays out across your pillow, no doubt it reaches half way down his back. He now has three piercings in his bottom lip and a lot more in his ears, which he's decorated with small metal spikes that hang from the lobe, sharp enough to cut someone. Tattoos mark both his arms, his chest and stomach, patterns that you know are for a purpose to the Witch Hunters. Usually, for every witch they stop or kill, they get new markings and boy, does he have a lot.
For a brief moment you wonder what he would do to you if he were in better shape, but you have a history with him that dates back to your birth, and that has to count for something, right?
You were two souls who had been bound together since you entered the world. An agreement by your families that you would both make the strongest couple to continue on to lead the next generation of witch hunters…that is…until your powers came in when you came of age and spun your world on its axis.
Being ostracised from your home and community, being shunned by your friends and family, including your parents, who looked at you like you were a repulsive insect they’d rather squash than release into the wild, they were all bearable things compared to living without Jungkook. That had been something else entirely.
And now with his close proximity, you perch on the edge of your bed and reach out to touch your hand to his, hesitant but desperate for the feel of his warm touch against yours. Slowly your fingers brush against his calloused palms and almost as if it's instinctive, he weakly threads his fingers through yours. Looking back at him to see if he's conscious, his eyelids flutter open and find you instantly.
He whispers your name like it's the cure to heal him and your heart pulls to him so hard it nearly takes your breath away.
“How are you here?” he says, voice coarse and strained.
Leaning down, you stroke a strand of hair off of his sweaty face, “Don't you remember?” you ask, wanting to keep him awake as long as you can. He shakes his head slowly and winces.
“You were on my doorstep this morning.” you answer, watching him carefully but his eyelids slowly close again.
“I…didn't know…where else…to go.” he responds, before the blanket of sleep pulls him under again and you repeating his name does nothing to rouse him.
Panic squeezes your insides, making your lungs feel tight and unable to get enough air in and when your front door swings open, slamming against the wall, you almost send a bolt of death to the culprit.
Hester rushes in, arms full of ingredients, eyes unwavering from the stranger in your bed.
“I could have killed you.” you scold, standing and hurrying to her side to help.
“Sorry,” she winces as she quickly hands you vials and jars, “A dragon bite?” she asks and you respond with a curt nod. “I figured as much with the ingredients list Muninn said you need.” She nods her head towards the raven, now sitting on his perch in your kitchen. “How did you find him?”
You tell her about your morning and just before you both begin mixing the potion in the cauldron at the bedside, she freezes.
“Wait, he's a witch hunter.”
Looking up at her accusing stare, focused now on you, you pause briefly, “So…I'm supposed to let him die?”
For a moment she hesitates, “If he was awake, he'd slaughter us if he could.”
“He wouldn't, trust me.” you continue mixing, as she speaks out loud in the order she places them into the cauldron.
“Water from the stream on the winter mountain, scales from the ice salamander,” with every vial poured in you get closer to helping him but your fingers shake around the wooden spoon, under the pressure of his life in your hands, “ashes from the blessed oak tree, tears of the fire phoenix and dragonbone dust from the forbidden pit.”
You look at each other nervously when the mixture sparks and a cloud of smoke engulfs you both momentarily before dissipating in the air around you.
“I'll bind his wrists, he won't like you putting this on one bit.” she whispers, glancing nervously at him as if he's a snake that could strike at any moment.
“No.” you say quickly, your heart making you weak, “I'll bind him, you apply it.”
She nods, getting it ready, as you pull out two leather belts from your wardrobe and wrap them carefully around each of his wrists. You tie his injured arm down, looping the belt under the bed, to keep his shoulder as visible as possible and the other, to your bed posts, tightening them as much as you can.
You nod to her to start. She reaches in and scoops the thick, grey mixture out with her hands and rubs it gently onto the wound. But the moment it touches the broken skin, his body jolts and he lets out a scream that turns your blood to ice. Pain seizes your heart, finding it unbearable to watch him in such agony but you force your frozen limbs to move, to hold his body still as he writhes and thrashes on your bed.
He calls out your name, begging you to stop and you don't miss the questioning look Hester flashes you with, as you try your best to calm him with false promises.
“Do it quickly, please.” you say through gritted teeth, blinking back the tears pricking at your eyes.
His muscles strain against the leather binds, veins bulging in his neck as he calls out to you. Inside you're screaming, wanting nothing more than to end his pain and if you could transfer it from him to you, you wouldn't have to think twice about it. But unfortunately, that wasn't in your power element, you were only able to bring darkness and decay.
“Ok, done.” Her voice interrupts the screeching in your mind and silences it, just as Jungkook collapses back onto the bed.
Hester wraps his wound with bandages but you're unable to move, hands still on him where you were pinning him down. Eyes fixed on the wrinkle between his brow, still seeming tortured even in sleep.
She clears her throat, and snaps your attention back to her and it's only then you can feel the cold trail from tears on your cheeks. “Who is he?” she asks, almost as if she knows the answer already.
“Jungkook.”
Your voice comes out in a horse whisper as you stroke back the hair slicked to his forehead, smiling when he leans into your touch slightly.
“Well, now this makes sense.” she says quietly.
Clasping your hand in his, your thumb rubbing gentle circles on his wrist, as an attempt to comfort him and to let him know you're still with him.
“I need you to be prepared that this potion might not work,” she says quietly, hand on your shoulder, “and if he dies, the witch hunters will be coming and they will capture and kill us both.”
The image of his face starts to blur from the tears filling your eyes, the idea of him not making it didn't bear thinking about but it is a reality you should consider, you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. You knew the ripple effect his death would have, not just within his community, but on you too. And you did not want anyone in your path if that happened, you dread to think of the devastation your grieving could cause. And whatever fate awaits for you, you would accept it. But Hester shouldn't have to deal with the repercussions of your choices.
“No, you go. No one will know you were here.”
She squeezes your shoulder. “Not a chance, I'm not leaving you alone. I'll clean up, you sit with him.”
Her warmth from your side vanishes, as you hear her busy herself in your kitchen, deciding to settle into your armchair, pulling it as close to Jungkook as you could and taking his hand in yours again. You wait.
And wait.
Sometime later a blanket of darkness falls upon your room and Hester's footsteps are the only sound that fills the space as she lights all the candles you have scattered around your home. The amber light flickers against Jungkook's face making him look even more angelic where he lay. You watch his chest anxiously, ensuring there's still movement with each shallow, silent breath he takes.
“The other witch hunters will be scouting the area for him.” Hester’s voice whispers by your ear.
“I know, which is why you should go, you have the cover of darkness to use to your advantage. Muninn will accompany you and lead you out of the woods, he will tell me when you're home and safe.”
She hesitates, looking out the window. “I don't want to leave you.”
Your heart swells as you turn to her, taking her hand in yours and giving it an encouraging squeeze. “Hester, I'll be fine. I can take care of myself. Please, go. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you.”
She stares off into the night and you can practically see the cogs turning in her mind, before her resolve falters and she gives you a tight nod. “Stay safe.” she whispers, kissing you lightly on the cheek before grabbing her shawl and leaving you alone with your previous love, your raven hot on her tail.
As soon as the door closes behind them, Jungkook sits up suddenly with a gasp that has you at his side instantly.
“The witches…your old coven…” he gasps, chest heaving as he struggles for breath.
“Hey, it’s ok, you need to rest, calm down.” you attempt to reassure him with your hand on his chest, easing him back down to the bed but he fights you, muscles straining under your touch.
“No, you have to listen…I don’t have much time…”
You frown at his words, an urgency inside you to tell him he’s wrong almost interrupts him again but with each word he says his breath billows out in a mist around him and your heart plummets. The air around you becomes thick and uncomfortable, the candles seem to dim and the room shrinks into darkness as if being smothered in shadow. And when you glance down at your hands still against the hard planes of his chest you notice the goosebumps appearing in a rapid trail up your forearms, sending a shiver through your body that unnerves you. You know what's about to happen, you’ve seen this before, many times but denial has you ignoring the dark presence that has appeared beside you.
“You don’t understand,” he turns to you, his large ebony pools open and desperate, pleading with you to listen. “your old coven…I followed them last night…to dragon mountain.”
This catches your attention but the shadowed figure looming beside you steals your focus as reality slips through the hopefulness you’re trying to will into existence.
Jungkook reaches out and takes your hand, squeezing it and jolting you back to him. “I can see him and I know you can too, he’s here to take me, isn’t he?”
Your mouth opens but you can’t bring yourself to say the words, unwilling to believe them yourself.
“I need to tell you this first, please.” he frowns, wincing in pain as he lays down, and clutching at his shoulder, when you nod. “The witches…did something…forbidden,” he gasps, each breath more ragged by the second. “I watched them slaughter a dragon.”
Your back straightens so fast it’s as if someone shoved a hot poker straight up your spine. A small part of you wants to disagree and say that it must be a mistake but remembering that the reason you left the coven in the first place; for their growing use of dark magic, it silences any other thoughts. The figure beside you reaches a disfigured hand out towards Jungkook and panic swells in your throat concealing a scream that hurts your chest.
He arches his back, writhing in agony but he continues on, “They collected its blood in vials and took it.” he calls out, and suddenly your throat is contracting in a swallow in an attempt to wet your painfully dry mouth.
Glancing at the hooded shadow, face concealed in darkness as usual, now just as frozen as you are, you’re surprised when it nods at you, something it’s never done before. But this makes you relax a little, it’s giving you more time and your mind scrambles to think of a way to use it but what Jungkook is telling you has your blood curdling inside you.
“You know what they’ll do with it, don’t you?” he says through gritted teeth, panting and growling like a wild animal as his skin heats alarmingly beneath your touch.
You did. There was only one spell that required dragon's blood but it's so outlawed that no-one has tried to use it in a hundred years, not that you’re aware of.
Someone is trying to open a portal to hell, but why? And why would these witches do it, what could they possibly gain from that?
“You have to stop them.” he gasps, his breath seeming caught somewhere in his chest, the panic in his eyes as he meets yours slices into you like a knife, cutting your heart open and bleeding love in the expanse of your lonely cottage.
As the entity continues to reach out, panic squeezes your heart, feeling like it could burst and take the entire world with it.
“Wait…not yet…I’m sorry…I'm so sorry…” he continues, looking at you with wide, glassy eyes, “...I have always loved you. Forgive….me…” his body stills and voice fades out before he says that last word. Words that any other time you would have been desperate to hear, but not now, not when you can’t say anything back.
Your lungs burn with every raking breath, as you suck in air, in an attempt to release the suffocating pressure in your chest. Tears run wildly down your face, and the sound of a choked sob echoes in the room but something deep inside you boils, something you’ve never felt before…rising up until a bloodcurdling scream escapes and silences everything else around you. And the shadowed figure stills, just before its icy grip of death clasps Jungkook's arm, and its head turns slowly in your direction.
Summary: Day after day, your life in the facility is planned down to the second. Emotionless and controlled, the citizens of Strictland are leading what can hardly be called an existence. The emergence of latent powers has caused the Enforcers to capture and incinerate anyone that threatens their absolute control, using implants to suppress those they can't bend to their will. Yet, amidst those being purged of their will and shaped into weapons, one man reaches out his hand to give you one tiny shred of hope.
Pairing: Yunho x Reader
Genre(s): Angst
AU(s): Dystopian AU based on Ateez lore, but I definitely took some liberties with it. A play on witch/witch hunter AUs?
Word Count: 1904
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Dystopian environment, government control, magic use, blood, graphic description of fire magic and violence ending in death, escaping government control.
A/N: This is my very radical take on @lapydiaries Witch Hunt first anniversary event! I decided to use Ateez lore (though as I said, I took some liberties and introduced magic emerging from emotions with it). Thank you to @sanjoongie for support, encouragement and keeping me focused on working on things even though I'm a pain in the ass sometimes with my writing! @pars-ley for always supporting me, encouraging me, for this gorgeous banner and for beta reading! I love you both! And ofc @cafekitsune for the beautiful dividers!
“Wake up.”
The rising blare of a horn yanks you from your slumber as red flashing lights breach the barrier of your eyelids.
You remain still, lying on your narrow cot as the warning siren reaches its crescendo and you begin to count in your head.
One…two…three…four…
The wail finally begins its descent as you wiggle your fingers and toes. The emergency system occasionally woke you and those lying in rows around you, and you’d been taught to bide your time by doing your checklist. Distant voices can be heard barking out precise instructions as the horn winds down, causing your eardrums to throb in the silence.
One…two…three…four…
Despite feeling the physical pounding of your heart, the connection to your mind is muted and numb. As the siren begins its ascent once again, you start taking stock of your surroundings, allowing yourself to ground yourself with the sensation of touch.
Scratchy blanket, check. Threadbare pillow, check. The gentle tug of a hand, a sharp searing pain behind your ear-
Your mouth parts in a sudden inhalation, but a warm palm clamps over it before you can make a sound.
“Quiet!” A familiar voice hisses in your ear even as the searing pain intensifies, his hot breath tickling your skin in an odd contrast to the discomfort. Finally opening your eyes, you try to turn your head to look at him but his hand slips from your mouth to your chin to hold you fast.
“Don’t move. Almost done-” Yunho whispers, and you can feel the hot trickle of what you can only assume is your blood before his fingers are digging into the fresh wound.
You muffle a hiss of pain as you feel his fingers slip in and prod around under your skin, staring up at the metal frame of your bunk as you wait for him to finish his impromptu procedure. You barely hear his quiet grunt as the horn begins yet another round of wailing but finally his fingernails catch on the implant.
“Yu-” You begin, but he shushes you quickly as he suddenly tugs, the device separating from wet tissue with a sickening yank. Your stomach roils wildly as his fingers extract the tiny metal chip, your mind threatening to fracture as it reconnects with long forgotten stimuli.
“We don’t have time for you to acclimate, just breathe-” He commands softly, his hand grasping yours as he tugs you from the bed. You try to focus on the sticky warmth of his fingers entwining with yours as bile threatens to climb your throat. The flashing lights don’t help the waves of nausea that cause you to stumble as he leads you through the rows of other subjects, all lying still and unmoving.
Your gaze finally settles on his silhouette in the angry red pulsating around you, your eyes drawn to the shadow of a wound, dark and wet behind his own ear to match yours. The foreign throb of alarm wars with too many other barely remembered emotions, as he draws you to a halt at the door, and finally he turns his head to look at you.
No words are spoken as he gazes down at you, the deep brown depths alive with a fire you’ve never seen before. Something buried deep within you seems to ignite as he conveys everything you need to know with that one single look.
He gives you a single nod, his hand squeezing yours gently as his lips curl into a ghost of a smile. The weight of what you’re doing is choked back as you close your eyes, breathing deeply through your nose. Though you know there’s no time for this, he gives you the moment you need to collect yourself before he suddenly produces a keycard and swipes it. The door unlocks with a hiss and he peeks out, scanning the hall before he sucks in a deep breath and you both begin to run.
Your escape is a blur, a series of stops and starts as he leads you through a maze of twists and turns. He seems to inherently know how to evade the few enforcers left behind, and before you know it he’s leading you deeper into the facility. Your confusion is smothered by your overwhelming trust in him, and eventually he’s tugging you through a long tunnel and up a rusty staircase to a heavy, reinforced door.
Before you can voice any concern, he rests his free hand on the mechanism beside the door, and his body tenses, his hand going rigid around yours. The acrid scent of burnt electronics tickles your nose as the device begins to smoke, then spark before the lock releases with a crackle and hiss.
He gives you a single look, squeezing your hand before forcing the door open and breaking into a run again, leaving behind the pulsing red lights and deafening blaring of the siren.
Your heart pounds in your chest, your lungs burning as you both race towards the horizon. The sun begins to bleed into the night sky, washing away the purples and blues with warm ochre. You’ve studied the names of colors extensively, but you’ve never felt them before. Not like this.
Hot tears prick your eyes as you run, alien sounds of elation bubbling up out of your throat as you race towards freedom. He glances back, his dark hair tousled by the wind, his eyes like wildfire as he joins in your laughter.
It feels as if you sprint for hours before he finally draws you to a halt near the edge of the city, near a large reservoir. The sun climbs the sky as you hunker down near some overgrown brush, alert for any signs of life nearby.
After a few moments of scanning the surroundings, he finally turns his attention to you. His throat works as his free hand reaches up to tentatively touch the wound where he removed your implant, his eyes pained.
“I…I didn’t mean to hurt you but…I had to.” he says, his voice rough from exertion.
“I know, Yun-” you reply, but a sudden wave of dizziness hits you, causing you to turn away and dry heave into the dried foliage beside you. He rubs your back gently as you retch until your stomach is aching from the strain.
“It…it gets better, I promise…” he soothes, waiting you out. You can feel the time slipping like a noose as you steady your breathing.
“We have to move.” He reminds you, but before he can drag you into another mad dash, you stop him with a touch. “Yunho…your ear, let me-” You touch the gash behind his ear, your fingertips brushing his torn flesh to concentrate on reknitting it.
“We don’t have time-” he urges, knowing how hard you’ve struggled with utilizing your ability in the past. To your relief, the flesh begins to fuse after a moment. It’s not perfect, leaving behind a jagged scar.
“It worked-it’s not very nice looking but-” You start to say, but you’re interrupted by the hum of a drone as it quickly approaches.
“We have to go!” he gasps, yanking you up onto your feet in a panic as you realize your escape hasn’t gone unnoticed.
Before you can make it far, another drone joins the first and you can hear voices drawing closer, calling for you to halt.
No, no, not when we’ve come this far, not when we’re almost free-
Your footfalls slap against the broken pavement as he tugs you along behind him, your heart thrumming in your throat as he suddenly turns and races down the bridge over the reservoir. “Not that way-” you shout, catching the familiar figures of masked enforcers pursuing you in your periphery.
Time seems to slow as his head turns, his eyes wide with panic and terror. His gaze meets yours as he pants out agonizingly slow breaths. Something within his eyes gives you pause, but there’s no time to process it. He seems to run through a labyrinth of emotions within that single hairsbreadth of time, and settles on one single thought that bridges the gap beyond words.
Trust me.
He suddenly pivots, halting your momentum and facing your pursuers with his hand splayed out. A terrible cry rips from his chest, and a blaze builds on his outstretched palm.
“Yunho!” You cry in warning, wanting to run, not face them. There’s no way you can face them, and get out alive.
His skin heats in your grip, and the writhing mass of fire in his palm explodes outwards, incinerating the two enforcers closest to you into a cloud of ash.
The heat wave washes over you, stealing your breath as it eats up the air around you. He collapses onto one knee, his hand still clutching yours, and you're horrified to see his other hand red and scorched from the effort.
“No-!” you scream, as more enforcers rush towards you; there’s no way you can even attempt to assist in any way. The only thing you can do is heal him, and that’s not even a guarantee. You’re completely useless and there’s no way to get out of this-
You can feel tears rushing down your cheeks, sweat beading on your brow as you start tugging him frantically. “Yunho, get up! Get up-we have to run!” You’re screaming, and you have a momentary surge of hope as he staggers to his feet. You dig deep down to your very core to try to pour any amount of healing into his body as you struggle to get him to flee.
There’s no going back. The only thing that awaits you if you’re captured is incineration.
We’ll become nothing but ash.
But when he glances back at you, instead of running, his lips curl into a devastating, sorrowful smile.
His hair is plastered to his forehead, the flaky ash already peppering his cheeks like some horrifying omen. Every cell of your being riots against the resolve in his gaze, your heart wrenching in your chest as if he’s carving it from your ribcage with that one single look.
No…no no no-
His face contorts as he quickly turns, a pained scream tearing from his throat as another ball of fire erupts from his mangled and scorched hand. The minor amount of recovery you’d managed in knitting his flesh back together is quickly undone by the action, the ground in front of you both igniting in flame.
His entire body emits a feverish heat, his clothing starting to smolder. A choked cry leaves you as he wavers, lurching forward to catch him before he can fall.
But then he’s turning, tearing his hand from yours to hoist you up under your armpits, using the last bit of his strength to propel both of you towards the side of the bridge.
“Yunho, no, don’t you dare-!” you shriek as you clutch at him, grasping onto the smoking material of his shirt, but before you can stop him, he’s heaving you up and launching you over the side.
The world above you falls away as gravity takes hold, your hand extended in a futile attempt to reconnect with him.
Your final image of Yunho is the bloodied hand that you’d never wanted to let go of reaching for you, the momentary illusion of hope shattering at the tragic grief in his dark eyes.
This fic is insane and I am desperately pleading for part two please, cause what the hell? How can you leave me high and dry like that. My heart was racing throughout, I was on the edge of my seat, biting my nails, willing them to escape!
