I just did this recently and i’ve been wanting to for a long time. I hope you guys would like it! probably would do more in the future.
Characters: gijinka!Baki, gijinka!Mothra, gijinka!Rhagor (mentions of gijinka!Godzilla)
warning: Screaming baby, hints of postpartum depression(?) (search it if you want to know the meaning), crying, Godzilla is not a bad dad i promise. this isnt fully proof-read that much btw.
-
Nothing but the crackling sounds of fire are the only ambiance Baki has, Baki stares at the fire as its light and heat dance and burn against the wood She cut so it can keep on burning. Baki traces the gold marking that designed her robotic leg, its eerily similar gold marks shine from the fire's light. Baki's mind kept on repeating the same memory of the event. It won't stop and she wishes It could just go away. She closes her eyes as she breathes out slowly. Her dinner is getting colder by the second
Suddenly a piercing sound overlapped the fire's ambiance. The piercing sound is different, its wails are all too familiar. A baby. Did Mothra die again? She turns her head to the entrance of her cave, Not expecting to see a tired Mothra. Mothra as a whole did not look as elegant as she used to in public. Her hair is not elegantly styled like she used to be. Styled into a rushed but simple hair bun with only a single accessory probably meant to keep the somewhat bun up, Her clothes only consist of her robe and under it, her nightgown, and around her arm is a screaming child, Baki’s grandson. Baki saw Mothra’s face and knew what the problem was.
“Mother..” Mothra said her voice was already evidence of her tiredness. Baki barely heard it over the child’s wailing screams.
Baki gives a sympathetic look as she extends her arm to her adopted daughter. Mothra sighs as she tiredly walks over to her mother as she bounces her screaming baby trying to calm him the least. Mothra gives an ‘oomph!’ as she sits next to Baki and leans her head on Baki’s shoulder as Baki caresses her shoulder for comfort.
“Help me..” Mothra pleads, she winces at the baby's sudden loud wails.
-
Not a minute goes by as the cave goes silent. Baki cooed at her grandson sleeping in her arms, sucking on his thumb. Mothra looks at the both fascinated by the sudden calmness of her child. Mothra slumps herself to the wall as she gives a loud sigh of relief.
Baki giggles at that. “He’s got your face, I can tell you that,” Baki said as she then faced Mothra.
“Mother, Baki, Whatever magic you have. Give it to me now” Mothra said.
Baki chuckles, “I don't have magic unlike you. You know that.”
“No mother. I mean...I mean this magic!” Mothra said as she extended her arms at Baki,
emphasizing her.
“I have been trying to make Rhagor stop crying and fall asleep for Five hours and you did those two in only under a second!”
“Five Hours?, didn’t Godzilla try to help?”
“No. He is currently away to do his duties.”
Baki's eyes furrow.
“His Majesty didn’t help you to calm the babe?”
“Mother please is not like that. I told him I could handle it and that he should do his work today. And man do I regret it. He did try to stay though I can tell you that. But we both know that he has work to attend to.” Mothra said as she looked at her baby.
She smiled at her child. Sleeping peacefully. Mothra used the back of her finger to softly caress her child's cheek causing the babe to flinch. Mothra immediately pulled back but luckily the Baby continued to sleep.
Baki watches Mothra’s expression quickly to a depressing look. “Somethings in your mind, What are you thinking child?”
Mothra closes her eyes as if trying to keep her expression in check. She opens her eyes once more as she solely focuses on the sleeping baby. Her sleeping baby.
“I’ve tried everything. I fed him, cleaned him, sang to him, and paced around the room until my legs hurt just for him to be calm. But still, he didn't. I tried flying hoping the feeling of flight would calm him but, no he just screamed louder as his little hands held tight to me. I scared him. I frightened my baby” Mothra said as her eyes started to leak tears.
“A-and when I stopped and tried to calm him to let him know that he shouldn't be scared and t-that I'm here. But he just kept on crying and crying.” Mothra inhales deeply as her emotion overcomes her. “Then I saw your island and knew that I should go and ask for help and...”
Mothra looked at her mother in tears and snot covered her face. She was never scared to be vulnerable around her mother.
Mothra then remembered the time where She and Godzilla were planning to start a family. And during this, she excitedly told Baki her plans. She remembers Baki giving her an excited look with a hint of sadness in them, She remembers Baki’s hands cupping both of her cheeks as her thumbs caressed her cheek.
You’re going to be a good mother, my Queen.
“Momma..I-I am not a good mother. Mommy all the simple things a mother could do I couldn't even do. I can't even-”
Mothra didn't get to finish her sentence as Baki embraced her, crushing Mothra’s face into her shoulder, grounding her. Mothra returns the embrace as she holds onto Baki tightly.
Baki pulls away as she places her forehead against Mothra's forehead.
“You are a good mother Mothra.”
“I am not..”
“Yes, you are.” Baki holds Mothra’s face as she makes Mothra look at her.
“Look at your child Mothra. He is healthy, he is heavy and he is happy. you feed him, you give him the love that he needs and you care for him. He is a lucky baby.”
“But I couldn't put him to sleep I-”
“Yes, you couldn’t. You needed my help, and needing my help doesn't make you less of a mother than you are now. You know by asking me for help you knew that could calm him down. You knew what was best. You are a good mother, Mayona.” Baki said as she placed a kiss between Mothra’s brow.
“Never think that because of this moment, you aren't a good mother.”
Mothra was stunned and emotional at her mother's words not noticing that Baki had passed the sleeping child over to her. Rhagor stirred but quickly went back to sleep when he felt it was his mother who was holding him. He grunts contently as his small hand comes to grip tightly on his mother's nightgown not wanting to be separated from her.
“Even your babe knows it. You are good Mayon-a. You are good.”
Baki said as she embraced Mothra, placing another kiss on her temple as Mothra continued to cry, holding her son tightly as ever.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
There a moments that the words don't reach
There is suffering too terrible to name
You hold your child as tight as you can
And push away the unimaginable
"Mr. Stark…I don’t feel so good-"
AU: Pianist!Baekhyun, ???!Au
Genre: Smut
Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader
Wordcount: 1031
Notes for Update: Comment if you want more!
Warnings: Smut
A/N: This is the third one guys, you know the drill, comment for more, if it reached the desired amount of notes we’ll see about more ;)
His hands were everywhere, smoothing over your sides, tugging at your hair. You felt his chest heave against yours as he pressed you into the mattress. Hot breath fanning out of your neck, before he kissed the skin, sucking, scraping his teeth over it till you were a whimpering mess in his embrace.
“Baekhyun.” You breathed, fingers dancing along the nape of his neck. He smelled heavily of his cologne, the tinge of it filling your nose along with the scent of sweat and your own perfume.
He hummed, moving his kissed further down your body as you pulled him closer to you with your legs. His lips were smooth against the top of your chest, tongue darting out to taste you there. It was hot in the back of the car, the material scarping against your back as he rocked his hips into you slowly. He was taking too long for your liking, stringing you along in his game like he owned you. And he did.
Your hands traveled down the planes of his back, his muscles shifting with his every movement. He was playing you like a fine instrument, in control of every little sound he had you make. The way his fingers danced over your body like they did with his piano, perfectly altering pressure when he needed to, creating symphonies in the form of your pleasure.
He looked up at you when his mouth descended over your nipple, eyes dark with desire. Baekhyun was expensive, exquisite, so at home here in the back of his Rolls Royce, unlike you. There was a way in which he exuded his status, how he held himself, that made your knees weak.
With deft hands, you helped him out of his pants, quickly pulling him back to you. He was warm, hot almost, as it was freezing outside. The material of the seat was becoming slippery with your sweat, as he finally dragged his fingers up your folds. So slowly, barely touching you.
You keened high in your throat when he slipped a finger inside, his eyes studying the way your back arched of the seat. For Baekhyun, his fingers were what he owned his money with. And you felt it, in his firm strokes and soft taps against your clit. “Baek.” You moaned, reaching out for him, clawing your nails over his shoulder.
He chuckled. “You’d do with only my hands for the rest of your life, wouldn’t you?”
Could you even tell him no? Another moan escaped your lips as you tried to answer him. He’d set out to take you to dinner, but you’d never made it. There was nothing innocent in the way his hand had skimming your thighs under the dress that he’d bought for you. Embroidered with real crystals and made of the finest silk. He’d set out to show you off, to government officials and his fellow musicians at one of the biggest events of the year. But now he was just showing off to you, as per usual.
You keened again, as his fingers slowly moved inside of you. With a hand you reached for him, trying to pull him closer.
“Use your words Dolce.” He mused, light smirk playing on his lips as he whispered his little nickname for you. His hair colour reminded you of Dulce the Leche, a soft caramel flavour that you loved.
“Want you.” You mumbled, closing your eyes in sheer pleasure. “Please.”
He chuckled. “But you have me already.”
Your body rocked as he pinched you lightly, your mouth falling open. He was always one to drag everything out as long as possible. Every single one of your interactions were inspirations to hime. Goodmornings under his silk sheets, hot nights spent in his piano room when he got frustrated with the large instrument, or passionate spur of the moment things like this. Sex, in the back of his car.
“Baek.” You whined, not one to easily give him what he wanted when it came to words. Everything he did to you, ever push and pull inside of you, every little touch, pinch, flick, was more than enough to make you feel like heaven, but not enough to send you into ecstasy. He knew that.
He scolded you, with a familiar glean in his eyes, before he came back over you, chest brushing yours. Your hands ran through his hand, and up his side. Baekhyun kissed you, lips enveloping yours, tongues dancing to a melody he was creating in his mind. He slowly pushed inside of you, rocking his body against yours softly, savouring every moment he got like this.
Like always, he created the perfect tempo, with dips and spikes that made you see stars. How long you’d been here, you didn’t know, but everything felt good. Until it felt too good and your body stilled and shivered beneath him in a silent crescendo. He followed you, face buried in your neck, fingers bruising your hips.
An hour later you arrived at the venue, 2 hours too late but just in time for his performance. His friends had looked at him with curious eyes, and looked at you with judgements. He’d briefly introduced you to some, before he left you alone with Chanyeol’s wife to take place behind his piano. Chanyeol was his manager, his wife was 2 years older than you, you got along well. She knew her way around the world of riches and music, like her husband.
Baekhyun started playing, creating a pattern of goosebumps on your skin in a way that only he could. From behind the glossy black grand piano he looked at you with a loving smiles. His eyes closed, deft fingers dancing over ivory keys in a way you’d never heard. This composition was new, it was slow, painfully so, making you want more. You wanted the speed, a firmer touch of the keys. But he wouldn’t give it.
This was inspired by what had happened, in the car. You helped him create the most beautiful melodies like these, because he loved you. Because you made him love you. Why? Because he’d made a deal with your employer, the devil.
Summary: AU where the Vinsmokes have each other’s backs. [multiple one-shots]
Note: In which Sanji has a nightmare and his siblings wake him up.
Note 2: I wasn’t sure if I should go with a fiction or one-shots, but then I was like ‘one-shots it is’ cause like you can get so many things out and come up with so much too. I’m sleep deprived so I apologize ahead if nothing makes sense. I know I don’t make any sense either, but popcorn. I also wasn’t sure which one to end first (there’s one more in the work), but I went for the nightmare one and I hope you like it asdfghjkl I’m not the best writer there is, but feedback is appreciative. (*´꒳`*)
Tagging @askstrawhatsanji since you motivated me to write it.
Fanfiction
“No…” Sanji whined and tossed in his bed, sweating. “D-don’t lock me…” he mumbled and turned the other way. He shuddered, the blankets on the ground beside his bed. He laid on the side and pulled his legs to his chest, a whimper escaping his lips. “P-please…”
Ichiji opened his eyes and groaned. Having another restless night after rough training, he was aching for some good sleep. He let out a sigh and turned on his stomach. Just as he was about to close his eyes, his head snapped up when he heard a sob. He straightened up on his bed and looked at Niji, who was lying on bed, one of his hands scratching his stomach. He was sleeping.
“Not him…” Ichiji murmured to himself and looked at Yonji, who laid not too far from him. Yonji was mumbling under his breath, but he was asleep as well. Narrowing his eyebrows, he looked at Sanji and frowned.
“I-I’ll be good…” Sanji sobbed and curled in a ball.
Jumping off his bed, Ichiji looked around, his eyes meeting with Niji’s, who was now wide awake. He looked at Yonji, who groggy sat up and rubbed his eyes before he became completely alerted at the sound of sobs. The three brothers looked at each other with quiet nods. They stepped on the ground and walked to Sanji’s bed.
Ichiji leaned on Sanji’s bed and observed his brother. He blinked in silence and reached out his hand. His finger was millimeters away from his cheek when he gulped, hesitating.
“What are you waiting for?” Niji hissed.
“W-what if he starts crying?” Ichiji looked at him.
“Well would you rather see him wake up whole mansion or only hear him cry and wake up whole mansion either way?” He asked with a frown.
Ichiji groaned and looked back at Sanji, who whimpered. “Sanji…” His voice was quiet like a mouse; almost a whisper.
Niji gave him a look of bafflement before he looked at Yonji, who was quietly standing behind Ichiji. He was holding on his pajama. “Where is Reiju?” he looked back at Ichiji, who immediately looked around the room.
“Did she even come last night?” Ichiji asked.
Niji shrugged while Yonji narrowed his eyebrows. Their attention was back on Sanji, who startled like something scared him.
“Sanji,” Ichiji called and shook his brother.
“N-no…” Sanji shivered.
“Oi, Sanji,” Niji followed and poked his brother in the cheek. “Wake up…” he called, but Sanji only tossed. He frowned when he spotted Yonji on Sanji’s bed, looking at him before he leaned down and shook him with both hands.
“Sanji, wake up.” Yonji called rather loud. Yet he continued to sleep. “Weird…” he murmured and looked at Ichiji and Niji. “Doesn’t Sanji usually wake up when he has nightmares?” he asked.
“He does,” Ichiji nodded. “Must be more serious now…” he said and climbed on bed, Niji following right after. “Hey, Sanji!” He called louder and shook him.
Sanji snapped his eyes open and sat up, startling the three brothers. He was shivering as he stared in front of himself, breath hitched. “S-sorry…” He stammered when he saw all three of them watching him in silence and worry. He averted his gaze, his eyes tearing up. He hiccuped and wrapped arms around himself.
The first one to react was Ichiji, who scooted to Sanji and hugged him. “It’s okay.” He spoke in soft voice. “It was only a bad dream.” he didn’t like to say it was nightmare, knowing Sanji was more expressive than they were.
“Who should I punch in the morning?” Yonji spoke, his voice suddenly serious.
Ichiji, Niji and Sanji looked at Yonji, who stared at Sanji before he burst out laughing. Now it was their turn to look at Sanji, who was laughing. His laughter was rather quiet, but contagious. No sooner all four of them were laughing. They didn't hear the footsteps that stopped right outside their bedroom.
“My question still remains.” Yonji said after they calmed down and sat on bed in a small circle.
“It’s nothing…” Sanji scratched his head and looked away.
“What did you dream about?” Niji didn’t hesitate to ask.
“Niji,” Ichiji shot him a glare and cast a worried glance at Sanji, who quietened down. “It’s okay, Sanji. You don’t have to tell us if-”
“D-dad locked me away…” Sanji stuttered.
Everything became quiet. Ichiji’s expression changed into unreadable, but his eyes widened when he processed. Niji gaped while Yonji quietly stared at Sanji, looking for something.
“I was scared…” Sanji continued and pulled legs to his chest, leaning chin on top of his knees. His eyes teared up once more. “I don’t like dark places, but he locked me away and didn’t give me food.”
No one said a word, but Yonji was the first one to move. He sat closer to Sanji and wrapped his arms around him. Sanji widened his eyes and tears began streaming down his cheeks. Ichiji was second to wrap his arms before he looked at Niji. With a silent groan, Niji scurried and hugged Sanji around his neck, making them fall down on bed. All four groaned, but they laughed.
“There’s no way we’ll let dad lock you away.” Ichiji spoke. “You’re our brother and we have your back.”
“That’s right,” Niji agreed. “If anyone has a problem with you, he’ll have to deal with us.”
“And be sure we’ll kick their ass no matter the size.” Yonji ended.
Sanji looked from one to another before his lips turned up in a wide smile. “I got your back too.” He said.
They smiled and snuggled closer to each other. Sanji felt and knew he was safe as he drifted back to sleep.
Reiju quietly skipped down the hallway until she stopped in front of doors. She smiled at the worker that passed her by and opened the doors. Peeking inside, she frowned when she saw first bed empty. With a frown on her face, she opened doors wider and looked at second bed, seeing it empty as well.
“Ichi...ji?” She looked on next bed and blinked in surprise. Her lips turned up in a wide smile when she saw all four brothers sleeping on Sanji’s bed. They were all snuggling closer to Sanji. The moment she was standing beside and tried reaching out to poke at Sanji’s cheek, Yonji groaned.
Looking at the youngest brother in amusement, she looked at the oldest, who swatted her hand away. She chuckled and shook with head, before she rushed back to doors when she heard her father’s voice.
“Yes, father?” She called, closing the doors behind.
“Where are the boys?” he asked and looked at doors.
“They weren’t in the room.” she answered. “I think they’re already in the dining room or they went out.” She said and tilted head to the side. Judge shook with head and continued walking away.
Reiju’s lips betrayed her as they turned into a small smile, followed by a chuckle that was heard behind her hand. She looked back at doors, hearing murmurs of her brothers. Looking back in front she quietly walked after her father towards dining room, letting them sleep for a while more. She will protect them even if it is against their own father.
AU: see warnings
Genre: Smut-ish
Pairing: Jongdae x Reader
Wordcount: 940
Notes for Update: Comment if you want more!
Warnings: Smutty things, not mentioning anything to not spoil anything but i don't think there's anything triggering, i'm just hiding the au. Read at own risk!
A/N: This is the shortest thing I've ever written. Shoutout to the amazing @sootemptation (prev. paark-haaraa) for pre-reading this and helping me pick the title. And honourable mention to my babe @oh-beyond have a little of this, I think (hope) you'll like it.
You walked back into the room, wide sweater slipping of one shoulder as the dimmed red lighting reflected on your pale skin. It was warm inside, the smell familiar to you, soft and flowery, but a little spicy. Your eyes followed the lines of the black velvet couch that was placed along the wall, finding his slim figure waiting for you. His head thrown back, hair disheveled, the beautiful lines of his throat exposed. The blue of his veins stood out against his ever so pale complexion.
He didn't seem to notice your presence, or chose to ignore it, while taking a deep drag of his cigarette and blowing out the smoke into the air above him. Even from the door, the way his eyelashes fluttered over his skin was clear.
"I missed you." he whispered, voice raspy with need. Need for you.
Your skin tingled at the sound of it, spreading a delightfully warm fire in the pit of your stomach. He opened one eye, letting his head fall to the side. He drank you in, eyes scanning over your body. You wanted to close your eyes, feel him even from this distance. There was a longing in you, that drew you closer, step by step until he could reach out for you.
His soft skinned fingers immediately searched place under your sweater and onto your bare skin. The way his fingers only lightly ghosted you, before gripping firmly and guiding you closer. There had always been something about his scent that you'd loved, like burnt caramel and smoke, bitterness that used to be sweet. You inhaled him, as you parted your legs over his, sitting down in his lap.
"No lace today?" he mused, light smile playing on his lips. His fingers drew slight circles, as he looked at you with hooded eyes. You felt the anticipation crawl over your skin, sinking and rising like his chest did with every breath.
You chuckled at his comment, light and airy. "You know my work hours are just over. Yet, here you are."
When he'd taken the last drag of his cigarette, he crushed it against the glass tray on the side, gliding his now free hand up your leg. "You're done with work, yet you came for me." he whispered, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
You smiled, closing your eyes and just feeling him. "Why are you here?" There came no answer from him, he spread his hands out over your lower back. Being with him was different every time. Today was agonisingly slow, but there was playfulness in his smile, a childish shimmer in his eyes. He always reminded you of a young boy, but the seal around his throat told you otherwise.
"I already told you." he shifted you a little closer, sitting up, and you felt his warmth. In the tacky red lighting his face carved out deeper than it was, making his cheeks seem hollow, his eyes sunken. "I missed you." His hands pushed you towards him, arching your back to your breasts lightly brushed against his chest. "I've never seen you wear clothes like this?" With a little grin that was familiar to you, like everything about him was, he looked at your beige knitted sweater. "Or this colour. I like it."
It's true, you normally wore lace, or leather, when you were with him. For him, seeing you in a sweater and jeans was completely new, and somehow it made you feel vulnerable. Which was odd since you were more dressed than you had ever been with him. "You're aware I can't provide for you outside of work hours, right?"
He hummed, pressing you ever closer and dropping his face into the crook of your neck. Only then, you touched him, bracing one hand on a strong shoulder, the other cradling the back of his head. His black hair was soft, velvety, and the waves slipped through your fingers seamlessly. You shivered, not daring to suppress it, as the tip of his tongue darted out ever so slightly to taste your skin.
"Jongdae." you whispered, warning him with a slight tug to his hair.
"God." he breathed. "I'll pay your boss." His energy changed and you felt it electrify your skin. There was a deep growl from his chest, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. He leant you back, slipping your sweater over your head and throwing it across the room. His maroon eyes seemed almost burgundy as they landed on your bare chest. "I definitely like this more." Briefly, he halted, taking his time to brush his thumb over your nipple, watching it harden. "A lot more." He bent you back further, and you held onto his shoulders, comfortably pressing the apex of your thighs to his hips. You noticed then, that he was hard, painfully so. Not that he gave you much time to acknowledge that before he leant down and licked a broad stripe up your skin. Starting in the valley between your breast and going up one side of your neck.
Then he stopped his breath hot and heavy, lips parted. You felt them lightly, scraping your skin, familiar but yet still exciting. But he'd never take you without your consent, not once had he been that overbearing. Today however, you wondered if he would. You craved it though, he'd made you crave for it. So you slid your fingers back into his hair and tilted your head, baring your throat to him. "Please." you whimpered.
He groaned at the sound of you begging for him. Then he sank his teeth deep into your skin.
AU: Fey!Au
Genre: Future Angst / Violence / Smut
Pairing: Minseok x Reader, Yixing x Reader, ???? x Reader
Wordcount: 1025
Notes for Update: Comment if you want more!
Warnings: nothing.....
A/N: This is an idea i've worked on a while ago and i think i talked about it with @messyscriptorium but i'm not sure sorry if I tagged you wrong. Give it love guys <3 my second Yixing works.
You were awoken by a melody yet unfamiliar to you, Minseok stirring against you and pulling you back against his naked chest. He pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck as you listened to the bow move against the strings of the violin. The tune kept you awake, as it swayed in the dark night. It sounded deep, and hollow, and lonely. It’s been so long since you’d heard him play this late at night, or heard him play at all.
“You want to go?” Minseok asked.
You sighed deeply, you hadn’t actually seen Yixing in weeks, too busy with training the new recruits. “He sounds lonely.”
“He does.” Your partner answered, disentangling his legs with yours. “Go.” He said, letting go of your body. You hovered for a bit, waiting and listening a little more. The music moved you, taking you out of the bed and into simple clothes that’d protect you from the cold night. You looked at Minseok before leaving, catching him smile in the dark of the hut.
You went outside, crossing the simple wooden bridge to the large tree that held Yixing’s large home. A home fit for an Exalt, you thought, as you listened to his song. The whole city could hear it, up in the trees, and down below. They took pride in the music their Exalt made, claiming it to be the most beautiful and moving sound ever. And it was, really, you’d never heard anyone play the violin like he had. With so much emotion and personality, the instrument was an extension of his soul. It was at home on his shoulder, and his fingers knew the paths of the strings like the roads of the forests he’s walked many times.
His room was big, bed large with the softest fur overlay. You watched him, standing by the open window that showed you the perfect crescent moon which lit up his distinct features. His eyes were closed, his black hair messily pushed back from today’s occasions. Deft fingers dance across the neck of the instrument, as his other hand pushes and pulled the sounds from the strings in manners that seemed natural and unpracticed.
Then he stopped, and opened his eyes to look at you. His gaze roamed over you, and he smiled sweetly, dark blue eyes seemingly black in the night. “Did I wake you up?” he asked, putting down the instrument on the chair.
You shook your head. “Don’t stop on my account.”
He walked over to you, reaching out to touch your hair. “Your hair has gotten much longer.” You noticed he was still wearing his official attire, the dark purple silk embroidered with rhinestones of all colours, the buttons undone to reveal pale, unscarred skin.
“Who’d you see today?” you asked, as he played with the ends of your hair.
He sighed, and you immediately knew the answer. “Baekhyun’s officials, they called for me a week ago.” Yixing, as ruler of the Dorcha Fey, also known as the dark ones, had important correspondences with the neighbouring nation. The nation of the Solas Fey was ruled by Baekhyun’s parents, king and queen of the light ones. There has been an eternal fued between both nations, fuelled by events from the past that created misconceptions and prejudices against both. Yixing has been trying his utmost best to create peace for both, to no avail. Baekhyun was always out for blood, for land, for sovereignty. He’d do anything to impress his father and grant him the sacred land you lived on that his nation’s been after for centuries.
Baekhyun’s father was the one who murdered Yixing’s parents, but your mom and Minseok’s father the ones who lead the army that pushed their forces far enough back to maintain rule over the land. Yixing was merely a kid then, and his father’s closest brother took over the place of Exalt until Yixing was of age. Until then, he’d lived with your family and Minseok’s, he was almost a brother to you.
Now, it sometimes felt like history might repeat, as you were appointed to Yixing’s personal guard alongside Minseok when your friend was announced king. Baekhyun was out for him, and you and your partner had killed many of his assassin’s, but nobody would ever get past you. Both of you would protect Yixing with your life, even if he’d never ask it of you.
“You’re lost in thought?” he said, bringing you back, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Oh, sorry. I guess I’m tired.”
He nodded, moving back towards the window. “You’ve been training new soldiers for weeks now, while Minseok has been with me alongside Luhan and Jongdae. You need to rest well.”
“It’s my duty to ensure that all protection that serves you and our nation is of the best skill. It doesn’t do to have half ready young men and women at the front lines to protect our borders.” You said, ending your sentence with a yawn.
Yixing smiled at you, picking up his beloved violin. It was Minseok’s mother that had taught him to play, that had spent her nights with him playing old folk songs and love stories. You had followed in your mother’s footsteps, like Minseok has in his father’s, who had been each other’s Cèile, just like you and Minseok were now. Cèile was a term used for soldiers that worked together for the rest of their service, you pick your Cèile halfway through your training. You and Minseok had picked each other when you were kids.
“Baekhyun’s coming here tomorrow.” Yixing suddenly spoke, and your eyes grew wide.
“How can you let that animal into our lands?!” you almost raised your voice at him. “Do you have any idea how dangerous he can be? He’ll bring assassins, soldiers, anything that he can to take you down.” Yixing wasn’t only your king, he was also your closest friend, your brother. Him and Minseok were your world, and you couldn’t understand how he was being so stupid.
Yixing sighed, and the look he gave you scared you in a way he had never before. “He’s not coming for me, he’s coming for you.”
You know the drill, comment, reblog to reach the note count! likes are appreciated <3
AU: yet unknown ;)
Genre: Angst / Violence
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Wordcount: 1073
Notes for Update: Comment if you want more!
Warnings: Angst, loosing someone, violence, blood
A/N: This is my first ever bts thin I’ve written. Not counting Engraved and my yet unpublished bts halloween fic Atonement. This is just me writing out the first parts of ideas i’ve had into short drabbles :3
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Hoseok’s worried voice sounded on the other end of the line as you walked down the stairs towards the trash room of your building. He was always looking out for you, especially for the last few months. Without him, you wouldn’t have known what to do. “You haven’t been alone ever since he left.”
He wasn’t wrong, he knew you like the back of his hand. Your boyfriend Jimin had disappeared of the face of the earth 3 months ago. Jimin, with his clear, azure blue eyes and soft blonde hair, with his beautiful bright smile that could light up any room. To you, he had seemed like a raging waterfall at first, wild and untamed, by the way he’d held himself and wore the sunglasses on the tip of his nose. Then he’d seen you, sitting in the corner of the library, and had lowered them to smile at you with the most unique eyes you’d ever seen. No, he wasn’t wild, he was calm, like the steady stream of the river. He was just what you had needed to ground you.
Then he disappeared.
3 months ago, he’d kissed you goodbye and gotten into his car. There was no text saying he was home, there was no call to say goodnight, there was nothing. His number was deactivated, his apartment empty, his car left in the parking lot. Jimin’s parents had never liked you, but they’d worried just like you when their son was nowhere to be found. The police sought for him for weeks, through the city, and the forests on the outskirts. There were constant pictures of him on the news, but there was never a reaction.
If it wasn’t for the pictures on your phone and his scarf on your coat hanger it was almost as if he had never existed. You didn’t speak to his parents anymore, his friends you’d never met. His number was still in your phone, a painful reminder of what had been. Of what will never be. The police said he was most likely dead, murdered, left in a ditch somewhere. Their words had left a bitter aftertaste in your mouth in the form of the bile that had risen in your throat when you heard it. They couldn’t keep looking for him.
“Teddie?” Hoseok asked, pulling you out of your train of thoughts. Teddie was his nickname for you, that stemmed from way back in your childhood.
You always called him Hobi. “Yeah?”
“I’m one call away.”
“I know Hobi, thank you.”
“I’ll get going then, goodnight.”
“Night.” You said, putting your phone in your pocket and continuing down the stairs. The hallway felt eerie, like something of a horror movie. It must be a busted light, you thought as you walked into the dark with steady steps, reaching for where you thought was the door.
You flinched when you bumped into something, almost screaming when you noticed that it was merely the open door. With an angry grumble you cursed yourself for getting scared by a door. “Where’s this god damn light.” You felt along the wall beside you until you found the switch, which didn’t work. From you pocket you retrieved your phone to shine the flashlight around the trash container room that smelled a disgusting as always. You quickly deposited your bag in the right one and moved back up the stairs.
It was late, 2am, and your body was tired of doing utterly nothing all day. You were stuck in a slur, a slur of laying in your bed, snoozing under the cover. Only to step under the shower way to late to even do anything productive other than make yourself some food. People from work had called you, too many times, your boss fuming with your absence. But Hoseok mentioned he’d taken care of it.
When you exited the stairwell to your floor, you stopped. The door to your apartment was open. You contemplated calling someone, when the rational part of your mind told you that you’d probably left it open.
You slowly walked closer, peering inside and not seeing anything. Must be nothing. Your music was still playing from the cd-player, filling the room with the slow tune of a piano.
Then you noticed, a sound. Water running. The shower? What the actual fuck? You immediately shot up, looking around you. From the kitchen, you grabbed a knife, freshly sharpened tonight before you cooked dinner. You grabbed it how you’d learnt, firm but not too tight, as you slowly tiptoed towards the bathroom.
When you opened the door, you let the knife clatter to the floor. Your eyes were wide, staring at the scene in front of you. The bloody towel on the floor, streaks of red on the wall. And there, in the bathtub, was Jimin.
He was sitting, clothes on, soaked form the water that streamed down on him. The sound of the knife drew his attention, causing him to slowly open his eyes and look at you. His face scared you. There was a cut on his forehead, his full lip was split and bleeding.
Your brain wasn’t thinking, and before you knew it you found your self in the tub, between his legs. He held you close, and you pressed your face against the crook of his neck, tears streaming down your face. “Jiminnie.” You whispered, heart pounding against his chest.
He shushed you, cupping the back of your head. “I’m here love.”
You inspected his face, the water now running clear. The cuts weren’t deep, but his cheek was swollen, probably coming up with a bruise. His hands holding your waist, your clothes now drenched like his, but the feeling was so overwhelming. Three months of nothing, and here he was, bleeding and bruised in your bathtub.
There was something different though, you couldn’t pinpoint it. Maybe his jaw was a little sharper, his blue eyes a bit more hooded. You thought for a second he’d lost a lot of weight, but you’d felt the hard planes of muscles on his stomach.
Then he smiled at you. “It’s okay.” That was your Jimin, with that ever so beautiful smile that made your heart flutter. He briefly looked past you, at what you assumed was the door.
His smile changes, morphing into a dark grin that made you reel back. You screamed when someone pulled a bag over your head and slammed it against the wall, knocking you unconscious.
