lost in a maze

The shot that was fired was aimed at the ground, near Seokjin’s paws. A warning to you and the hybrids that they’re armed and not afraid to use their weapons. The wolf hybrid shifts into his human form, but his ears are pinned back against his head and his tail is between his legs as he backs away, startled but luckily unharmed. You stand between them and the group of vile men before you, including the man you’re supposed to marry.

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding.” Kangdae takes one look at you and bursts into mocking laughter. “What the hell are you wearing, babe? That’s not sexy at all!”

You feel your cheeks burn with humiliation. “What do you want, Kangdae? How did you even find me?”

“You were a pain in the ass to track down,” he mutters, shaking his head. “The whole town was worried about you, babe. My folks got everyone searching. Someone found your car in these woods, thought you were good as dead. And yet, here you are, gallivanting with these … abominations.”

“Shut up! Don’t talk to us like that!” Seokjin snaps. Two of Kangdae’s lackeys point their guns at him, ready to fire.

“Easy, pup. I’m having a conversation with my stupid woman.” He doesn’t divert his gaze away as he stares you down. A growl rumbles from Seokjin’s throat, but you step in front of him, shielding him and the other hybrids.

“Tell them to put the guns down,” you order tersely, trying not to look as frightened as you feel when you see the ends of the barrels being pointed at the hybrids. “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, Kangdae. Just leave us alone.”

“Babe, I’m just here to talk. That’s all.” He raises his hands up and cracks a smile as if he has no intentions of hurting you. It feels condescending. “Just hear me out, and we’ll pretend we never saw them.”

“Whatever you have to say to her, you can say in front of us,” Namjoon speaks up as he stands by your side. The hand he presses against the small of your back gives you the tiniest bit of comfort, even if you feel it trembling with rage.

“I don’t think so, beast,” he quips, finally turning his gaze away from you to look at Namjoon. If he recognizes him, it doesn’t show on Kangdae’s face. He does, however, look intrigued with how close Namjoon stands to you. How protective he is over you. When Kangdae looks at you again, his smile is gone. “You and I talk. Alone. And no one gets hurt.”

Guns cock and more are aimed at the hybrids. Kangdae begins to count down.

“Okay! Okay!” you give in before the next number leaves his lips. You give Namjoon an apologetic look. It feels like this is all your fault. If you hadn’t stayed this long, if you had left when you were supposed to, maybe they’d never find this place.

The smug smirk dances on Kangdae’s lips again as he meets Namjoon’s gaze. It’s like that dark and stormy night all those years ago, when the two of them stood against each other on the stage. The arrogance that Kangdae had that day hasn’t diminished at all. In fact, it’s gotten even worse as he grabs your arm and yanks you closer to him, childishly possessive like you’re a pretty doll that Namjoon can’t have.

The hybrid’s rage is silent, but he clenches his jaw and scowls as he watches Kangdae pull you away, out of ear-shot for even the hybrids to eavesdrop. You look over your shoulder at him, helpless, scared. Not because of him, but of the human that has you in his grasp. The indigo in Namjoon’s eyes darkens and looks sharper, the black pupils thinner like slits. The air around his mouth as he exhales becomes visible like smoke.

You’ve never seen Namjoon look so angry.

When you and Kangdae are far enough, he eyes you again and gives you a sleazy smirk. “You know, for an old dress, it makes your tits look nice.”

“What do you want, Kangdae?” you repeat, exasperated, stepping away from him before he could think of touching you.

“To take you home, of course. My folks planned a nice ceremony for us, you know?” He moves closer to you, until your back hits the trunk of a tree. Then, he cages you in with his arms. Objectively, Kangdae is good-looking, especially up close like this, but his beauty is only skin-deep. All you see before you is a monster. “Then, you pulled your little stunt. So, what the fuck happened? Did you want to rebel? Did you think you’d get away? You’re usually so quiet and obedient.”

“Stop.” You pull Kangdae’s arms as he squeezes your cheeks together. 

“Stop,” he repeats in a whine, mocking you again. “It was never supposed to be serious between us. You were the prettiest girl in school. We looked so good together, but all you do is read and stay home. You can’t even talk to people without getting nervous. So, I thought maybe you’re just the girl I can bring home to my parents. Someone that makes me look good during social events and family parties. So that people can get off my fucking back about the actual fun girls I date. But it turns out, my folks really like you. Especially after you started working at our company. Not only are you beautiful. They said you’re smart and hardworking, too. They thought you’d be a good match for me, and even threatened to cut me off if I didn’t propose to you. They’ll write me off my inheritance if I don’t marry you. But you’re just a prudish, annoying bitch that got cold feet and ran away.”

The truth spills out. Every word confirms what you’ve already known about you and Kangdae. Hearing him tell you all of this to your face, however, makes you spite him even more. “I hate you. You never loved me.”

“No one would,” he sneers, pinning you harder against the tree and watching your feeble attempts to push him off. “Don’t you know what people say about you? How you’re a weird, little freak? The whole town is only nice to you because you’re dating me. Or have you forgotten? Is that why you’re hanging out with hybrids of all fucking things?”

“They’re not things, they’re—”

“Monsters,” he finishes for you. “I know, babe.”

“They’re not that either.”

Kangdae loudly laughs as if that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “Let’s not speak nonsense, okay? Where is he?”

“Who?”

“The hybrid. The bunny,” he clarifies, and your eyes widen slightly when you realize he’s talking about Jungkook. “Tell me where you’re hiding him, and I’ll forgive you.”

Dread weighs heavily on your heart as you glance at the others he came with. You don’t recognize any of them, but they look more menacing than a pack of wolves. They’re not just here for you, but they’re after Jungkook as well. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t fuck with me, babe. I know you ran away with him.” His grip around you tightens. “Is he with those other hybrids? That guy from the fighting ring has been threatening me since you took off together. That bunny was his prized fighter. Didn’t you think he’d want him back?”

“Fuck you.” You’d never give him up. Jungkook is your friend.

He looks over his shoulder where his men continue to point their guns at the manor’s residents. The hybrids are looking at you. Even from this distance, you can feel their worried gazes. “That’s okay, though. I see a leopard, a bear, and a wolf among the other hybrids you’re hiding. I could make a lot of money selling them off.”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Kangdae.”

“Here’s the deal, princess,” Kangdae begins, his voice low and angry as he digs into his pocket for something. “People have been hounding me for six months straight. Either you be a good girl and marry me, and I’ll leave your hybrids alone. Once I get my inheritance, I’ll take you straight to the guy from the ring. You’ll explain why his prized fighter is still missing, and you better pray that it’s only money that he wants from you.”

Your stomach feels sick at the implication.

“Or, if you’re still going to be stubborn, I’ll send my men to raid the manor and capture every single hybrid you’re hiding in there. I’ll make you watch as my men and I use them for target practice.” There’s a wicked smile on his face as he unveils something you’d never thought you’d see again. The engagement ring you left behind. “The choice is yours, babe.”

A tense silence fills the air as Kangdae pulls you aside to talk. Namjoon doesn’t keep his eyes off you. His jaw is locked and his gaze is steady as you look back at him.

He’s never smelled fear on you before. Not like this. Not with him or his pack. At least, not since you first stepped into the manor. Even then, it was never to this degree.

You’re terrified of Kangdae.

And all Namjoon can do is stay where he is – between his pack and the guns pointed at them – and helplessly watch you become more distressed.

The conversation feels longer than it is. A soft, worried whine from Seokjin, a small hiss from Yoongi. Even Taehyung stops himself from anxiously pacing as he guards the door, keeping the other hybrids inside the manor out of sight.

As for Namjoon, he feels his self-control slipping.

Anger rises when Kangdae puts his hands on you. How he pins you against the tree. How he roughly grabs your face. You struggle against his hold, but Kangdae is bigger and stronger than you are. His body now blocks you from his view, but when Kangdae turns to look at where his men are holding them hostage, he meets Namjoon’s eyes. 

And he smirks.

“Careful, Namjoon,” Yoongi whispers, grounding him.

For a split second, the beast inside him almost takes form. It shows on his cracking skin and his glowing eyes, like a broken mask unveiling his true self. He covers his face with his hand, but his eyes are still glued on you.

If you’re to see him now – if you’re to see what he really looks like – you’ll hate him. 

When you and Kangdae return, he has his arm around you. There’s a look of haughty triumph on his face as he makes a show to kiss the top of your head. 

“Fifteen minutes,” he gives you before releasing you from his hold. It’s not much time at all, but you head straight to Namjoon.

“What’s going on?” he asks you, touching your arm. You still smell so distressed, it’s bitter and almost tannic from your usual warm, sweet scent.

“I’m going with them, Namjoon,” you tell him, your voice so quiet, it’s almost a whisper. Tears glisten in your eyes, and honestly, it makes Namjoon want to cry too.

“Wh-What are you saying? You can’t go with them,” Namjoon begins as waves of emotions hit him at once: anger, confusion, disbelief, hurt, sadness, yearning. “No. I won’t let them take you.”

“Please don’t make this harder for me. I made my choice.”

A glimmer catches his attention, and his eyes are drawn to the band around your finger. His heart breaks when he realizes it’s an engagement ring.

He… he feels like a fool. Of course, you couldn’t be his. Of course, you’d choose to be with someone else. Why would you ever love a beast like him?

“Thirteen minutes,” Kangdae loudly counts down from behind you, relishing the look on Namjoon's face.

And like that, you step away from him. Cold air escapes with your warmth, and he barely registers the thanks you give him for taking care of you all this time. Your voice feels like it’s underwater. His packmates are shocked and unhappy, their own feelings adding to the bitterness Namjoon could practically taste in the air.

He feels numb when you step in front of him again several minutes later, dressed in something more comfortable and with your duffle bag slung around your shoulder. It only occurs to him that he’s been crying when he glances up at you, his vision blurred by his tears.

There’s an apologetic look on your face. Words at the tip of your tongue that you can’t say to him. Truths that can’t be told. “Take care of Jungkook for me, okay?”

“You’re just letting her go?” Jimin berates, standing in the middle of Namjoon’s room in the west wing. It’s the only area in the mansion that hasn’t been fixed yet. A gaping hole on the side of the wall exposes the room to the dark clouds that cover the night sky whenever Namjoon is in a sour mood. “Why didn’t you try to stop her?”

“She’s already promised to someone else.” Namjoon’s voice is low and calm, almost matter-of-fact. But the scales on his face are cracking again. He’s able to control himself better at night, when the beast inside him is quiet and asleep, but after everything that’s happened, his emotions are all over the place.

For six months, Namjoon has been very careful to hide the monster he is. Afraid he’d scare you off if you know the truth. Afraid to show you any part of himself that doesn’t appear human. He’s been patient, yearning, glad to have you around but terrified for the inevitable day this would come.

The day you decide to leave.

Once Kangdae and his men got what they came for, they retreated. As if they never saw them, as promised.

It’s been hours since then. Namjoon, and the others return to the manor where Hoseok and Jimin anxiously question what had happened and where you’ve gone. 

“You know damn well as much as I do that she doesn’t love that man,” Jimin hisses, his black feathers ruffled with agitation. “You’re so happy with her, Namjoon. You’ve been lonely for so long, and you told me it was a miracle that you found each other again. Every night, you’ve been courting her. Every night, you two were getting closer. And now, you’re just letting her leave without a fight? What if she doesn’t come back?”

“It’s okay, Jimin. She made her decision.” Namjoon’s voice is still calm, still quiet, as if trying to be complacent. But his voice breaks as he admits, “I’ll miss her too.”

The swan hybrid falls silent. Fresh tears sting his eyes, terrified that you’ve abandoned them. After they’ve all gotten used to you being around. After they began to consider you and Jungkook a part of their pack.

Jimin knows it’s not Namjoon’s fault that you left. He knows it isn’t yours either. That if those men hadn’t found the manor, you’d still be with them. 

But as much as it pains him to question if you’ll ever come back to him, nothing could compare to how hurt Namjoon must be.

After all, you’re his mate. Namjoon wanted to finally tell you that tonight.

To love and to be loved in return.

If Namjoon could wish for anything, it would be that.

A single petal falls from a smeraldo flower Namjoon keeps in a vase. A beautiful flower that means an untold truth.

Jimin watches as it delicately lands on the table. It almost feels like watching sand in an hourglass. Every second that slips by seems emptier and emptier, and it makes him anxiously wonder if you’ll ever know how much Namjoon truly loves you.

Footsteps hurry toward the west wing, and Hoseok appears, out of breath. There’s urgency in his eyes as he looks at Namjoon and Jimin. “Those men! They’re back!”

“I thought they left,” Namjoon practically snarls. What more could they take from him?

Taehyung is with Hoseok. There’s a frown on his face as he says, “I don’t think they left at all. They just brought reinforcements.”

Namjoon’s eyes are ablaze. He’s barely in control of himself and it makes Jimin and the others eye each other nervously. He shoves past them, the scales on his skin becoming more apparent and glistening with the moonlight. “Find the others and stay inside!”

He storms out before he could hear their responses. The clear and starry sky now shrouded with dark clouds as a sudden storm picks up. Lightning flashes and Namjoon is gone, a menacing roar drowned by the rumble of thunder.

The three look at each other, unable to hide their worry. It’s been a long time since they’ve seen Namjoon like this, consumed by his anger and self-hatred. Where chaos and destruction mark his path, and the storms outside are strong enough to sweep everything away.

Seokjin and Yoongi join them, wearing similar expressions of concern. Jimin looks at his pack before him and realizes there’s one missing. “Where’s Jungkook?”

A bump in the road stirs you from sleep. In the back of the car like an arrested suspect, you must have dozed off. You’ve been crying the whole time. Tears stain your cheeks and the puffiness in your eyes and face are evident of that.

It’s just you and Kangdae in the white van. One, you’re certain, specifically designed for capturing hybrids.

The backdoors aren’t unlockable from the inside, and there are strong chains hooked against the sides and bottoms to keep the hybrid in place. A cage mesh separates you from the front seats of the car, keeping you contained like an animal.

The other men he was with must have taken separate vehicles, but you all seem to be going to the same place. Back to that small, provincial town.

Where everyone knows you as the odd, quiet, but beautiful girl who is incredibly lucky to be with someone as handsome and wealthy as Kangdae. Where you’re about to sign your life away to a loveless marriage with a terrible man. Where you could only hope that this is the right choice, and that nothing will harm the hybrids.

Emotional exhaustion still has its hold on your body. You hear Kangdae’s voice, but you could barely make out what he’s saying. He’s speaking so quietly, he must think you’re still asleep. Your eyes start to adjust to the darkness in the back of the van. There isn’t much to look at anyway. It’s empty except for your opened duffle bag and…

You nearly scream at the pair of big, doe-shaped eyes staring at you in the shadows. Before you could make a sound, he quickly covers your mouth with the palm of his hand and places a finger to his pouty lips, gesturing you to keep quiet.

“Jungkook? What the hell are you doing here?” you question, bewildered, when he finally lets you go. He must’ve snuck into your bag while you were in a rush to pack your things.

The bunny hybrid smiles so widely, his nose crinkles a little. “I couldn’t let you face the bad humans alone, can I?”

Conflicted between relief and upset upon seeing him, you’re touched that he’s here. Even if he’s supposed to be in the manor with everyone else. Before you could question it, he motions you to keep quiet again. One of his long ears is pressed against the divider as he crouches in Kangdae’s blindspot.

“It’s even better than that,” Kangdae continues, keeping his voice low as he talks to someone on the phone. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice that you aren’t alone in the back. His attention is focused on the road ahead. “There’s a house full of them.”

Your eyes widen when you realize Kangdae is talking about the hybrids.

You can’t make out the response on the other line, but you recognize the tone Kangdae is using. It’s the voice he uses whenever he makes a sales pitch. He describes the other hybrids one by one: how bigger Seokjin is compared to other wolf hybrids, the rarity of Yoongi’s leopard skin, the pros of Taehyung’s strength as a bear hybrid for intense work labor. Your stomach knots as he talks about how much profit he could make if he were to capture and sell them.

The more you listen, the sicker you feel. Whatever Kangdae is planning, it sounds like it will happen as soon as tonight, and you and Jungkook need to come up with something quickly if you want to warn the others in time.

“Kangdae,” you call out to him, back in the same position you woke up in as Jungkook shifts into a bunny and blends in the shadows. “I need to use the restroom.”

“Shit. I gotta go,” Kangdae mutters in annoyance before he hangs up the phone. “Hold it in, babe. We’ll be in the closest town soon.”

“I can’t,” you whine, wiggling around and squeezing your thighs together. “Kangdae, please. Can you pull over?”

He glares at you from the rearview mirror and curses, suddenly swerving. Tires screech in an abrupt halt that slams you forward against the cage. Luckily, you and Jungkook aren’t hurt as Kangdae rips the car door open and slams it shut. In his bunny form, you watch Jungkook dart toward the other end of the van. You catch your breath as the door opens and Kangdae grabs you. “You better make it fast or I’ll—”

Before he could finish, Jungkook shifts and jumps out at him. The sharp snap of his knuckles hitting Kangdae square in the face is the most satisfying sound you’ve ever heard. He instantly lets you go and yelps in pain, but Jungkook quickly pins him to the ground, throwing his legs around Kangdae’s torso, and uses his brute strength to keep him in a chokehold. “His keys!”

You snap out of it and yank the van’s keys from Kangdae’s jeans.

“Bitch!” he wheezes, choking a bit more as Jungkook’s hold on him tightens. His face looks like a mess. You’re pretty sure Jungkook broke his nose and blood drips freely onto the hybrid’s arm. 

You shut the back doors and jump to the driver’s seat. “Jungkook, come on!”

It’s only then that he lets Kangdae go. The bunny hybrid kicks him in the ribs for good measure, snapping that the kick was for calling you a bitch, and then quickly climbs onto the passenger seat beside you. 

Tires screech again as you turn the van around and floor it back to the road that you came from. You glance at the rearview mirror to see Kangdae still on the ground, but struggling to get back on his feet. You don’t see any of the other men around, but you’re sure it won’t be long until they’re on your trail.

You glance at Jungkook, who is rubbing his knuckles and taking deep breaths to let the adrenaline die down. His eyes are fixed on the road as he tells you, “I don’t think we lost too much time, but he told them where the manor is. We should hurry.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to remember the path you took all those months ago that led you to the manor. “You were amazing back there, you know?”

“I told you I’m strong,” Jungkook teases with a flex of his muscles. His smile falls as he admits, “I’m just glad that I was able to use it for something other than fighting other hybrids, you know?”

“You’ll never have to,” you promise as the van speeds along, reminiscent of how your adventure started. Back when you were so lost and scared, and not sure where to go. But now, you have direction. Now, you have a place to go to. “Let’s go home, Jungkook.”

What once was a clear and starry night becomes dark and stormy. Black clouds hang over the manor by the time you reach it, and rain pours as heavily as it did the night you first arrived. An old and forgotten manor, once peaceful and unassuming, now holds the aftermath of a perilous battle.

You and Jungkook step out of the van with caution. Blood is spilled on the ground. Grass is singed with ash and dying embers. Weapons have been dropped and shells of bullets discarded. Something tore through here, and you can only assume that the carcasses and severed limbs are the men that foolishly stayed behind.

Your stomach twists with worry and grief. Had Kangdae ordered his men to attack the hybrids as soon as you left? Are any of them hurt?

“We have to get inside,” you remind Jungkook. More men are coming, based on what you overheard Kangdae say. You need to warn them before it’s too late.

“Don’t give up!” a voice in the roughly distance exclaims. You and Jungkook immediately hide around the van, noticing a group of armed men by the front doors. “Break the doors open! I want those hybrids captured alive!”

Your heart sinks when you realize you might be too late.

Jungkook nudges you, grabbing your attention. He nods toward the side of the manor – that there still might be another entryway you can sneak into without alerting the men outside. Both of you jog toward the east side of the manor and see a window that you could climb into. Jungkook gives you a boost before he easily jumps in after you.

At the entryway, you see the hybrids have barricaded the doors. Taehyung in his bear form is leaning against the furniture, but you’re not sure how long he can keep holding them back. The others are on their guard, getting ready to attack. Everyone is there but one person.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

The hybrids snap their attention toward you when they hear your voice. Hoseok’s eyes widen in shock. “You came back?”

“I came home,” you correct as they return your smile. Taehyung grunts as he struggles to keep the barricade up. You grab the heaviest thing you could use as a weapon and signal for him and the others to hide.

The front doors slowly creak up with a loud, echoing groan. The intruders slowly enter, pushing aside the furniture piled up by the door. It feels haunted with how old and antique the style of the manor is, and although it seems empty, they can feel pairs of eyes watching them from the shadows.

Jimin drops something from above, startling the men, distracting them as the rest of you sneak in and attack. The fight is instant. In your hands is a heavy candelabra, and you swing it at the back of a man’s head. It disorients him, causing him to drop his gun, and you kick it out of reach. You then swing the candelabra into another man in front of you, nearly knocking him back into another person, and causing both of them to stumble on the ground.

The others around you are fairing just as well.

Taehyung’s ferocious roar is enough to scare some of them off. From above, Jimin snatches weapons out of their hands and tosses them where they can’t reach. Hoseok uses his antlers to ram into multiple people, and Yoongi’s agility makes it difficult for anyone to catch him. Seokjin’s bite is powerful as he chases them out of the manor, and Jungkook, who is trained in hand-to-hand combat, uses his skills to knock them down before they could hurt anyone from the pack.

The battle spills outside. Most of the intruders have given up and fled, vowing to never return when they realize the price of the hybrids aren’t worth their lives. They slip on the wet mud mixed with blood and scream in horror when they finally see the carnage and are reminded of what their fates could be. The hybrids around you are breathing hard from exertion, worn from battle but otherwise unhurt.

It’s almost over. Only a few stragglers are left, but the victory is yours. The manor is safe for another day, but you haven’t seen Namjoon yet.

“He’s in the west wing,” Yoongi tells you as you eye the forbidden area. He grabs the collar of a random man and starts to drag him away. “We got things covered here. You should go to him.”

Adrenaline still pumps in your veins, but you nod your head, enter the manor, and climb up the stairs to see him. At first glance, the westside of the manor seems identical to the eastside. However, the further you go, the darker and desolate it becomes.

Time always seems at a standstill within the manor. The furniture is old, the floorboards creak, the wallpaper is outdated, but it isn’t until you enter the west wing when you truly see the effects of time and abandonment. White sheets cover the furniture, cracks and holes on the walls, old paintings are weathered and an armor suit with a sword is rusted.

At the end of the long hallway is a large doorway that’s cracked open. Rain spills from the exposed area, further damaging the soaked floorboards. The cold wind makes you shiver as you slowly cross the threshold. It looks like you’re in the master bedroom. A large bed, antique furniture, a vase with a smeraldo flower, but more notably, by the tall windows, is Namjoon.

His clothes are torn, as if he’s been clutching them so tightly, they’ve ripped. You see that he’s breathing heavily, gasping for air, curling into himself as if he’s in pain. Your heart suddenly yearns for him – wanting to comfort him, wanting to kiss his burdens away – as you take a step forward and carefully call out his name. “Namjoon?”

When he looks at you, he’s almost unrecognizable. Half-shifted to whatever hybrid he is. The smoothness of his sun-kissed skin has turned into scales that glimmer slightly in the moonlight. His fingernails have grown to long claws, painting his entire hand black and shaping it like a talon. Horns grow out of his head, bending back. Blood covers his mouth and clothes, and you can’t tell if it’s his blood or not. The whites of his eyes are gone, but they still look at you with the same surprise, gentleness, and worry that the Namjoon you know would always have.

“What are you doing here?” he questions, his voice rough with a low growl. He tries to hide from you, curling up into a tight ball, clearly ashamed of his appearance. It looks like he’s trying to fully shift back into a human, but isn’t able to. “Don’t look at me. I won’t– I can’t hold it back!”

But you don’t care. You take another step forward. “Namjoon, I–”

Out of nowhere, someone grabs you by your hair and yanks you back. A yelp of pain escapes your lips as one of the intruders, who followed you through the west wing, hisses down your neck. “Bitch. Did you think you’d get away from me?”

“Kangdae!” you cry out, trying to pry his fingers off you, but he just pulls you harder, forcing you down on your knees.

Tears prick your eyes as he starts to drag you by your hair, and you scream for him to stop. To let you go. You don’t want anything to do with this man. You don’t want a future with him. You never wanted one to begin with.

He only manages to pull you out of the master bedroom when a deep rumble for the shadows comes from within. The ground shakes and bits of debris fall from the ceiling. Kangdae’s grip tightens around you, this time, out of fear.

In the shadows, a pair of angry, glowing indigo eyes glare at him. Lightning flashes, giving a glimpse of a monster in its depths.

Then, since the night you first arrived at the mansion, you hear it. The same sound that spooked Jungkook all those months ago. The sound of an ungodly roar.

Namjoon never wanted you to see him like this.

A pitifully lonely, ugly, beastly creature like him doesn’t deserve to even be looked at by someone as beautiful and precious as you. He’s seen the terror in the eyes of everyone who’s witnessed this form, even from his own pack mates. He can’t bear the thought of scaring you, but Namjoon is selfish. Because he can’t bear the thought of losing you either.

Perhaps it's fate that drew him to participate in that underground battle all those years ago. His hatred and anger for himself and for the world could be catalyzed in forms of words and poetry as a writer, as a rapper. He wanted to at least try.

Namjoon noticed you right away among the crowd. You were breathtaking then, and even more so now. Namjoon doesn’t know much about love. He doesn’t have much for himself, let alone for others. But something akin to it – something warm, something right – he felt it that night. He knew you were someone special to him before he even knew your name.

The second time, after thinking about you nonstop, it’s like you manifested for him. Again, he saw you in the crowd, looking up at him with intrigue. Then, to his horror, his disguise falls off and the only sign of him being a hybrid is unveiled to the room. He remembers the shock, the disgust, the fear. He can smell it on their skins, but among all that is your sweet one. 

You aren’t afraid when you approach him and hand back his sunglasses. There’s a gentle kindness in your voice when you speak to him. As you look him in the eyes, you don’t flinch from fear or nerves. You treat him like he’s human.

The interaction is too brief, but he’s never forgotten it.

Perhaps it’s fate that drew you to the manor half a year ago. He never thought he’d see you again. He’s mourned that idea more times than he’d like to admit: you were the girl who got away, a girl who he’d be too afraid to show his true self to anyway, a girl he could love but would never love him back in return. 

As the poor weather matches his uneasy heart, he still asks you every night to spend time with him, expecting that you’d refuse and turn him down. But you never did. Even if he shows you boring things like his plants or his books, you still look at them with fascination because those boring things mean a lot to him.

Like waves of the ocean meeting the shore, you ebb away his loneliness and sorrows. The raging storm inside him subsides, and he feels content with just your presence. It makes him happy, seeing you bond with his packmates. It makes him happy, hearing your laughter and listening to you talk about your day. It makes him happy when you decide to stay.

Namjoon is already upset that the intruders have taken you from him, invaded his home, and threatened his pack. The anger and self-hatred rolls back like a tsunami, crashing into him so viciously that he feels the beast taking over, consuming him. Namjoon is so scared of losing that control he’s maintained while you were here, but now, it’s like he can’t think. He can’t breathe.

Someone is hurting his mate.

It’s all he thinks about as the manor rumbles around him and he fully shifts before your eyes. In the piercing darkness, he glares at the man who has his hand on you. He watches as he falls down and scrambles back, eyes shaking but never looking away as Namjoon steps closer into the light, revealing his monstrous form.

Namjoon isn’t just one hybrid. He’s several of them at once: nose of a pig, iridescent blue scales of a reptile, tail and long whiskers of a carp, long body of a serpent, talons of a falcon, beard of a goat. An ancient creature that only exists in stories and legends.

Namjoon is a dragon.

Kangdae screams as the dragon roars at him. He scrambles backwards on the ground, unable to tear his eyes away from the monster in the shadows. Namjoon lunges after him but isn’t able to fit through the doorway. With a snarl, he exits from the exposed hole in the corner of the room.

You hear Namjoon on the rooftop, trying to find Kangdae. The two of you are startled when a window breaks in, glass shattering on the floor, followed by his frustrated grunts when he still can’t reach him.

You’re still in shock, but Kangdae is quick to recover. His nose is broken from earlier and dried blood stains his shirt and skin. But in the backpocket of his jeans is a gun.

 “Kangdae, stop. Don’t hurt him.”

“He’s a monster, babe,” he reminds you coldly. “One that will make me so rich and famous when I capture it. Imagine, a dragon hybrid under my command.”

“As if he’d listen to you!” Jungkook must’ve hit him harder than you thought. He’s insane to go after Namjoon like this.

“No,” he agrees, voice low like a growl as he eyes you. “But he’ll listen to you.”

With his gun drawn, he grabs you and drags you back into the master bedroom, near the exposed opening. Cold rain continues to pour down, drenching both of you. Vines and smeraldo flowers cover a lattice panel against the wall, and Kangdae barks at you to climb it. You’re trembling from both the fear and the cold as you glance down, hand shaking as you grasp the thin, wet wood. 

One slip, and it’s over.

Kangdae nearly shoves you off the ledge, demanding you to climb. Slowly, carefully, you get to the roof of the manor with Kangdae right behind you. Below, you hear the other hybrids call out to you. It’s hard to see from the storm, but Kangdae waves his gun around and fires it at random. You scream at the sound, clutching the wood so tightly as you shut your eyes. Thankfully, it doesn’t sound like he hit anyone, but you practically scramble the rest of the way when he snaps at you to move.

Thunder rumbles and lightning flashes as you finally reach the top. And it’s only then that you’re able to get a good glimpse of Namjoon’s hybrid form.

He looks nothing like any creature you’ve seen before. His scales are white-blue, shining the same way the smeraldo flowers do with the heavy rain. His body is incredibly long like a serpent, with long talons on his feet and claws. He looks intimidating, but as you look into his eyes, you can see that it’s so clearly Namjoon.

You could never forget how beautiful his eyes are.

“Nam—” you begin to call out, but Kangdae covers your mouth with one hand. The other holds a gun at the dragon.

“What’s the matter, beast? Are you in love with her?” he taunts, cackling sinisterly at the angry fire in the hybrid’s eyes. “Do you honestly think she’d want you, when she has someone like me?”

But Kangdae couldn’t be more wrong.

You struggle in his hold again, elbowing him off you, yanking his hand away from your mouth. “Don’t believe him, Namjoon! I’ll never love him!”

“Shut up, babe! Or I’ll make you regret it!”

“It’s you, Namjoon! You’re the one I love!”

You see the dragon’s eyes widen at your confession.

“I said shut the fuck up!” Kangdae shouts, trying to grab you again, but you manage to slip out of his hold, nearly falling forward as you scramble away from him. Namjoon stands over you protectively once you’re close enough, roaring so loudly it makes the whole manor tremble.

Kangdae nearly loses his balance too, almost slipping off the edge. He aims his gun at Namjoon and fires, but the bullets do little to harm him. Namjoon lunges to bite him, but Kangdae shoots again at his face. This time, it makes him flinch and recoil in pain.

You scream when you see Namjoon is hurt, just as the other hybrids catch up to you guys. Kangdae comes toward you again, his hand reaching to grab you once more. But you’ve had enough.

He threatens to make your life miserable, like he always does. Because he’s always been the man that never gets rejected. That always gets his way. 

And you’re so sick and tired of it.

Every single day with him has been a living hell.

“Fuck you!” you curse, shoving him as hard as you can. He stumbles toward the ledge. It’s raining so hard, you can barely see. The roof is slippery. Even you start to lose your balance until Jungkook comes up and holds you steady. As Kangdae starts to fall back, you barely notice that he’s pointing his gun right at you.

But Namjoon does. His roar shakes the entire manor, causing Kangdae to fall off the ledge before he could fire his gun.

It feels like everything is slowed-down. You’re thankful Jungkook turns your head away, cradling you to his chest so you don’t have to see. That he covers your ears as the heavy rain drowns out Kangdae’s final scream. You’re thankful the rain hides your tears as you try to process what just happened.

You feel shocked. You feel sad how it came to this. Relieved that it’s over. Scared, even.

But not as scared as Namjoon.

The dragon hybrid tries to hide away from you again, curling up in himself like a tight ball some meters away. If you hadn’t thought he was a monster before, surely you do now. That seems to be what he and the other hybrids are thinking because, after a while, you hear Taehyung quietly plead, “Please don’t be afraid of him.”

“He looks like one now, but he’s not a monster,” Hoseok adds as you finally look at where Namjoon is. 

“I know,” you reply softly. Of course they’re not. None of them are. Joy lights up on their faces as you move out of Jungkook’s hold, careful not to trip as you head toward the cowering beast. Up close, Namjoon looks ethereal. Carefully, you place your hand on his iridescent scales, rubbing it gently, petting him like you would Jungkook. You feel him tense beneath your fingertips before he turns his head to look at you – cautious, confused, maybe a bit hopeful. You smile at him, looking him in the eyes. “You’re so pretty, Namjoon.”

The rain begins to stop. Cold scales are replaced with warm skin as he shifts back to his human form. His large hand cups the side of your face as he looks into your eyes. You watch waves of emotion soar through him at once as he asks, “Did you mean what you said? Do you love me?”

“I do–” He barely lets you answer before he kisses you.

Deep in the woods, in an area that humans haven’t come across in many years, lies an old, abandoned manor. Harboring inside are neither men nor animals, but outcasts who have been shunned for their appearances. Grotesque mutations and behaviors deemed unfavorable to a society that treats them so cruelly.

Until, one day, you come along.

Beautiful as you are kind, but in some ways, you’re a bit of an outcast yourself. You never felt like you belonged in that small, provincial town. Burdened by expectations of keeping appearances to what others saw fit.

Perhaps that’s why you could never be afraid of them. You relate to the hybrids more than you had any other human.

“Ah,” Yoongi complains, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just replaced these floor tiles a month ago.”

“Sorry, hyung,” Namjoon apologizes sheepishly. “I’ll help you fix the mess.”

“Don’t bother,” he tells him, though he eyes Jimin and the others for an unspoken plea for help. One that Jimin pretends to not see as he helps you sweep up the debris. The leopard gives you a pointed glance and says, “Keep him distracted before he breaks anything else, okay?”

“Sure, Yoongi.” You look over at Namjoon, grinning to yourself at how flustered he looks at the request. And how easily you agreed to it.

Last night took a toll on everyone. You’re not sure what the hybrids did with Kangdae’s body, and honestly, you don’t want to ask. Whether they buried him in a shallow grave or left him to the wolves, it doesn’t matter to you anymore.

The westside looks more deteriorated than before Namjoon’s transformation, and all of you ended up staying in the east wing with what little sleep you could manage. The other hybrids piled together in Jungkook’s room while Namjoon stayed in yours.

And it’s between soft kisses and scenting that he tells you the one truth that was left untold. That you’re his mate.

To be loved and to be loved in return. It’s a new and unfamiliar feeling to you. It’s the same for Namjoon as well. That warm and precious feeling that novels you’ve read often retell, you’re willing to know it all with him.

Your hand slips into Namjoon’s, drawing his attention. There’s a fondness in his eyes when you don’t shy away from him, despite knowing what he is. His eyes linger at your hands for a moment, his gaze already telling you that he loves you before he even speaks the words. And you meet his beautiful eyes with a teasing glint in yours.

“Namjoon, would you like to spend the evening with me?”

Because the greatest thing you’ll ever learn is to love and to be loved in return.

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Hours have passed since you and the bunny hybrid left your home and hit the road. 

You’ve wrestled with the idea of packing your bags and leaving everything behind before. It’s something you thought about more than you’d like to admit. After violent arguments between you and Kangdae, where you’ve had enough and where he’d leave you to “cool off” and come back whenever he pleases, you’d throw your things in a duffel bag: clothes, toiletries, a hidden wad of cash, food, the first-aid kit, whatever you could get your hands on.

But every time before, you weren’t able to cross that threshold out the door. You weren’t able to do this alone.

Fear has a tight grip on you. Insecurity as well. Kangdae is well off and financially stable. He could get any girl he wants and make her feel special, just as he’s done with you and all the other women he’s cheated on you with. He has nothing to lose if you leave, but you’ll lose everything: your job, your reputation, your family, your dignity.

Kangdae’s family has control of every business in town. It’s hard to find a job that isn’t directly influenced by them. Your reputation would be tarnished as well. You’ll be the girl who ran away from the most sought-after bachelor in town, and people would think you’re insane. Your family would be disappointed, and you know that running to them would mean they’d just try to make you change your mind and go back to Kangdae before you make things worse. And if you’re not able to make it on your own, what then? Could you even come back to this town once you leave?

The hybrid follows you from room to room, nervous as he helps you carry your things into the car. There were several times when you had a moment of reconsideration, second-guessing yourself that maybe you can’t do this after all and that this whole thing is stupid and reckless.

But the moment you catch a glimpse of his hopeful, doe-shaped eyes, your morale returns. You weren’t able to cross the threshold on your own, but this time, with another person depending on you, you did. With the engagement ring and your cell phone left behind, you don’t look back.

Soon, you find yourself here. In a car with a hybrid, and no real direction on where to go yet. Your options are limited, and the hybrid’s even more so.

You’ve stopped at your bank and withdrew as much cash as you’re able to before closing the account. You’ve stopped at a car mechanic to check your tires and do a quick maintenance, as you’re expecting to be on the road for quite some time. You’ve stopped at a 24-hour pharmacy to purchase more bandages and antibacterial sprays and ointments before re-cleaning the hybrid’s wounds in a parking lot. You’ve stopped at a library to do some research on inexpensive hotels and lodges that allow hybrids, and click away from any shelters and advertised sanctuaries that the hybrid doesn’t look comfortable staying in.

It’s been nonstop since you finally walked out the door, trying to drown away your fears and doubts by keeping busy. By mustering your courage and being prepared.

But now, things have quieted down. There aren’t many cars at this time of night. Many people are in bed or are out spending the rest of their evening with friends and their significant other. Streetlights illuminate the dark roads ahead, but your mind wanders as the music quietly plays from the radio.

It feels crazy. You feel insane doing this.

What if Kangdae comes home? How soon would it be until he finds you? How long would it take until your parents notice? Or your neighbors? Or anyone else? Wouldn’t the hybrid’s abusive owner be looking for him too? Wouldn’t this be considered kidnapping? Rescuing? Are you going to be arrested if you’re caught?

Yet, as you glance at the hybrid next to you, you know you can’t let Kangdae or the owner continue to hurt him. You have to take him somewhere safe at least, and then you’ll deal with the consequences later.

“Do you have a family? Friends? A place to go?”

“No…” the hybrid answers, shaking his head. He doesn’t have any of those. Your heart sinks at the realization.

So, you ask him something that he can answer. “Are you hungry?”

The diner is relatively empty when you and the hybrid are seated. There are a couple truck drivers that are grabbing a quick meal and a cup of coffee before they continue on with their deliveries. A man in a janitorial uniform seems to have just gotten off his late shift and is tiredly eating a sandwich. And a small group of teenagers are enjoying a very late dinner together after a concert or party before they head home.

The hybrid makes sure that his ears are covered with the hat, tugging on the rim to keep it down as he glances at the warning sign on the window that disallows hybrids from entering the establishment. Though, the night staff seems too tired to really care or notice anyway.

“Go ahead and order whatever you want, okay?” you assure him, noting how he seems fixed on the page that lists their salads.

A waitress comes to take your orders and brings you hot coffee and the hybrid a glass of milk. While the two of you wait for your food, you’re so lost in thought, you haven’t noticed the hybrid eyeing you until he finally speaks up. “You’re so nice.”

“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” you reply with a tiny shrug, grabbing the little cups of coffee creamer and packets of sugar.

“Not a lot of humans would do what you’re doing for me,” he says quietly.

Again, you feel your heart sink a little.

Hybrids have been around for thousands of years, yet they’ve always been treated as sub-human. For centuries, humans would overtake their natural habitats, hunt and capture them for sport or to make money, separate them from their packs, enslave them or force them into violence and entertainment. Co-existing with them is still a fairly new and controversial concept as the politics dictating hybrid rights and laws are a heated topic every year.

How much humanity or animal instincts hybrids have or not never really mattered to you. They’re still intelligent, some even more so than humans are. They look human other than some distinct animal features they can’t hide. Yet, they’re treated like vicious monsters, even if humans are the worst.

“More people should,” you simply say as you mix your coffee with cream and sugar.

Soon enough, the waitress sets a big bowl of salad in front of the hybrid and a plate of pancakes and strawberries for you. Just like before, the hybrid scarfs down his food quickly, barely letting himself savor the taste. As if he’s worried that someone would snatch the bowl away from him if he doesn’t eat it fast enough.

“Hey, slow down a little,” you warn him, and he immediately puts down the salad bowl. His eyes flash with guilt and fear, afraid that he made you upset. You offer him a small, friendly smile. “I just don’t want you to choke. Here, I’ll give you some of mine too. This diner claims to be famous for their hot cakes.”

The hybrid watches as you cut up a generous portion and place it on his plate. He still seems a bit confused and hesitant with your actions, but nibbles on the red fruit first.

“You’re nice,” he repeats, more as a reminder to himself than anything.

“Thank you.”

“Why are you with that mean human?”

Your smile fades a little. “You mean Kangdae?”

He nods his head, chewing on his bottom lip, as if he’s still a little nervous about making you angry.

You sigh. “That’s another good question.”

To be honest, it’s something you wonder about all the time. Other than your beauty, you don’t know what else he sees in you. Neither of you really have anything in common. His lifestyle indulges in women, parties, and whatever puts him in the spotlight. Yours is quieter, calmer, and ideally, surrounded by arts and books.

There have been times when it was actually nice to be with him. Days where he’s in a good mood and makes you feel like you’re the one. When his flattery actually charms you and he remembers things like your birthday or an anniversary. Dating him has also opened doors that you wouldn’t have been able to walk through on your own: your job under his parent’s company, a nice apartment in town, trips to resorts and beautiful places, financial stability among other things.

A lot of people say you’re lucky to have him. And at some point, you started to believe that Kangdae is it. That you can’t do any better than him.

Kangdae loved you, and you thought, maybe, you could love him in return.

Even if it isn’t what you envisioned love to be at all.

Things started to become worse after you two moved in together. His gigs as a rapper, an influencer, or a vlogger, weren’t making much income, and he refused to work under his parents, so he never contributed to the bills. He argued with you all the time: about money, about bills, about some random guy being too friendly with you when he’s taking your coffee order, about you spending too much time away from home when your company throws a mandatory get-together, about you not getting dinner hot and ready for him the second he comes home, about you always being too tired or not in the mood for sex. The list goes on.

Yet, somehow, he convinced you to stay.

Out of convenience. Out of the inevitable threat of financial instability. Out of knowing you’d be disappointing everyone who ever told you you’re lucky to be with him. Out of insecurity that you’d honestly not find anyone else who’d love you.

But the hybrid before you is your last straw.

He’s chewing on the lettuce. The motion of his mouth reminds you very much of actual bunnies as he continues to stare at you with big, round eyes, waiting for you to continue.

“It doesn’t matter why I was with him,” you decide, stabbing your fork into your pancake. “What matters is that I’m never going back to him again.”

“Did you love him?”

You frown at your plate. Other than what you gave to the hybrid, you haven’t taken a bite. “I thought I did. But now, I’m not sure. Love always seems so different in books and movies. It looks nicer. Warmer. Sweeter than anything.”

“I think love can be like that in real life too,” the hybrid tells you, seeming a bit shy. “But you won’t find it with that guy. You’re too nice to be with someone like him.”

You smile a little at that. Perhaps it’s because he’s part bunny, but you feel incredibly endeared by him. “You know, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“I’m good with any name,” he replies with a tiny shrug. “That guy… the owner… he didn’t give me a name.”

“Is there anything you want me to call you?”

The hybrid rolls his eyes to the ceiling and scratches his cheek in thought. “Jungkook. That’s what I used to be called.”

“Jungkook?”

He nods his head. A small smile forms on his lips. “It’s nice when you say it.”

You laugh a little. “Thank you.”

“No, no. I should be thanking you,” he insists, looking at you quite seriously. “I’ll figure out a way to repay you. I promise.”

“You already did.”

He blinks. “I did? When?”

“Earlier, when you asked me to help you,” you tell him with a wry smile. “I couldn’t save myself, but I had to save you. From your owner, from Kangdae, from all the other mean people. So, thank you for giving me the courage to get us both out of that situation.”

For the next couple of days, you and Jungkook drive as far as you can without much of a destination in mind. 

At first, the two of you stopped at different shelters and adoption centers, but there was always some excuse that made you pull out of the parking lot before you could even make it to the building. The place looked too shabby with faded paint and deteriorating plaster, or the place looked too sterile and heartless to be called a home. Jungkook didn’t trust that they’d actually take care of him, or you’re afraid his owner would find him too easily at that location. 

Eventually, you stopped bothering and skipped potential centers altogether. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind, though. He seems to rather be with you than to be dropped off at a mysterious and scary place, and part of you doesn’t even mind.

He’s good company and an easy person to talk to during the long hours on the road. Even when the radio is off, he’d sing to you or talk for hours straight.

Sometimes, he talks to you about what it’s like to be a hybrid.

“So, you can actually turn into an animal?” you exclaim, shocked by the news. You assume that hybrids stay stuck as a mix between human and animal forever. When Jungkook doesn’t answer you, you glance over at the passenger seat and see a black bunny with the same, doe-shaped eyes staring up at you. “Oh my god, you can!”

He transforms back in a blink of an eye, grabbing the steering wheel when you begin to swerve off the road as he shouts, “Be careful!”

Sometimes, you talk about what it’s like to be human.

“You’re actually a little weak, aren’t you?” Jungkook teases, helping you carry a pack of water bottles among other snacks and road trip essentials to the trunk. “Are all humans like this, or is it just you?”

“I can return the ice cream you picked out, you know,” you threaten as he loads up the trunk. “And the banana milk.”

“No, no, don’t do that,” he says with a chuckle and a shake of his head. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh.

Every now and then, you’d stop by at gas stations, rest stops, convenience stores, motels, and fast-food joints. It’s tolling on your body to drive for hours at a time, but the hybrid tries to keep you entertained. And you’re thankful for his company.

“I didn’t think you’d be into this type of music,” Jungkook admits as he fiddles around with the radio. The passenger side where he’s at is wide open as you hand him a drink from the vending machine.

“Why? You don’t like hip hop?” you ask, opening a bottle of water and glugging it down. The two of you are parked at a rest stop so you could stretch your legs and use the public restroom. 

“I like all kinds of music,” he tells you, his thin lips stretching to a shy smile that exposes his bunny teeth. He uncaps his own bottle and asks, “Who’s your favorite artist?”

You almost choke at the question. Honestly, you haven’t really thought about it much, but there is one person that comes to mind. “I don’t think you’d hear him on the radio.”

“Oh yeah? What’s his name?”

“Rap Monster.”

While traveling on the road is daring, fun, full of deep talks, laughter, and singing, it’s also a little scary. In the back of your mind, there’s always that fear that you’ll get caught. That the police would take you back to Kangdae, or that Jungkook’s owner would find you and force him back into more brutal fights and beatings. That someone suspicious would approach you when you’re filling up for gas in the middle of the night, or that you’d end up in an unsafe area.

“Don’t be scared,” Jungkook whispers to you, placing a hand on the small of your back. He eyes the group of men loitering in front of the motel wearily. “If they try to mess with you, I’ll protect you. I’m strong.”

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you murmur back, feeling a bit safer. Taking a deep breath, you briskly walk across the parking lot with the hybrid right behind you. Your gaze is kept firmly on the building, even as the sleazy men in front of it try to whistle and call for your attention. You hear them laughing at how scared you must look.

Had it been Kangdae instead of Jungkook, he’d either start a fight with those men and put the blame on you – claiming that you wanted it, that the way you’re dressed was asking for unwanted attention, that you’re trying to make him jealous by making eye contact with them. If he really felt like being an asshole, he’d shove you toward them until you’re crying and clinging onto him, and Kangdae would laugh and simply say you should feel flattered by the attention.

By the time you check in, Jungkook is already taking all your belongings from the car into the room so you don’t have to go back out there. He doesn’t question you when he finds you sitting on the bed and crying. And you don’t ask him about the redness on his knuckles when you check on his wounds later that night.

At the motel, Jungkook lets you take the bed as he plops down on the couch. It can’t be that comfortable, but he always insists on sleeping there, claiming it’s better than the cage he usually sleeps in. Your heart drops every time he mentions it.

Without a phone, it’s hard to keep researching hybrid centers, checking on the reviews, and looking up their locations. But there are pamphlets of maps, restaurant menus, and local business fliers on the nightstand.

“This place claims to be a humane shelter for hybrids,” you read out loud, looking at the picturesque photos of a variety of hybrids with humans: dog-hybrids of mixed breeds, domestic cat-hybrids with pointy ears and fluffy tails, birds with talons on their feet, and bunnies like Jungkook with long ears and a cute tail. “No kill, free-range, very thorough adoption process to ensure your hybrid finds a new forever home.”

“They’re lies,” Jungkook bitterly states without even looking at it. “All of them are.”

You toss the flier in the nearby wastebasket and sigh. “We need to at least look at some of these places. We can’t keep driving around like this forever.”

Jungkook peeks over at you. Then, in a quieter voice, he asks, “Why not?”

“I want to find you a proper home. With a home gym where you can workout anytime you want. And a nice kitchen with a full fridge where you can eat actual meals instead of living off ramen packets and potato chips. And maybe even a karaoke machine with colorful mood lights so you can sing your heart out,” you explain, imagining he’d have so much fun and be well-taken care of. “I want you to feel comfortable and happy instead of being stuck in my car all the time, and just wandering around aimlessly until our money runs out.”

You see the pout jutting out of his lip. “What if I just want to stay with you?”

“I’m not exactly living in the lap of luxury right now,” you tell him with a sad smile. It’ll be hard to let him go, but you know it’s for the best. Even if he doesn’t agree.

“Then what about you?”

“I’m… still figuring it out,” you reply, sighing again. Finding a home for Jungkook is a priority, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t been thinking about your next step. “I have a sister who might be able to take us in for now. I haven’t talked to her for years. She might not even remember me or want to help. But I can’t think of anyone else. She still lives far from here, but if we cut through the forest instead of taking the main roads, we’ll get to her much sooner.”

His silence makes you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing: this is a bad idea.

“It’s going to rain,” he reminds you with a frown. You don’t need animal instincts to know that. The looming, grey clouds in the sky tells you that a storm is near.

Still, you turn on the TV to look at the weather forecast. “I’ll drive slow.”

“It’ll still be dangerous.”

Breaking news. Missing person report. If you have seen this woman, please contact your local authorities immediately. Last seen wearing—

You stare at a photo of yourself on the television. Your heart picks up as Jungkook’s eyes widen. If you thought the cops were after you before, they surely are now.

They’ll find you if you take the main road to your sister’s place.

“We don’t have much of a choice.”

A thick tension hangs in the air between you and Jungkook. It’s something that you haven’t felt since the night the two of you spontaneously decided to run away from your abusers. Every passing car has you on edge, making you wonder how long the two of you can pull this off. If you could even make it to your sister’s place.

Would someone recognize your license plate? Are the cops already on your trail? Would Kangdae and Jungkook’s owner be out there looking for the two of you? What if they catch you? What would you do then?

The windshield wipers swipe back and forth against the heavy rain, but it doesn’t do much good. It’s still so hard to see as your car pulls up to the road leading into the dense forest.

“Just drive slow,” Jungkook reminds you, his voice gentle.

You nod your head. Then, carefully, you step on the gas.

Tall trees cover both sides of the narrow road. Under much nicer weather and better circumstances, perhaps it would be a relaxing, scenic drive to go through. But as it is, it’s terrifying. And dark. You can barely see past what your headlights illuminate.

But at least no one is following you two. For now, anyway.

After a while, everything starts to look the same. It makes you wonder if you’re just driving around in circles. In the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook yawning and trying hard to stay awake with you. But the constant rainfall and the occasional rumbles of thunder seems to lull him to sleep.

“If you’re tired, you could take a nap,” you tell him. It’ll still be a little while until you get to your sister’s place anyway.

“No, no, I should stay up with you,” he mumbles, though his eyes are already closed. His head starts to droop as he nods off, but then, Jungkook suddenly snaps awake. His whole body stiffens as his hand shoots up to grab you.

“Ow! Jungkook, what–?”

Then, you hear it.

A deep, animalistic roar.

Your heart hammers in your chest as your car halts to a stop. It sounds so close.

“Don’t stop. Keep driving,” Jungkook urges.

“Right,” you mutter, stepping on the gas again. You’re not even sure what kind of animal it is, but you can’t see anything but shrouds of darkness among the trees. Whatever it is, though, has Jungkook spooked.

“Faster,” he insists. His hand around your arm tightens a little. You push the gas pedal a little more. “Faster!”

Somehow, the roar sounds closer.

The two of you are speeding through the dirt path as safely as you can. Rain continues to fall without letting up. The heavy patter of raindrops hits hard against the rapid swipes of your windshield wipers. You can’t even see what’s even chasing you, but it has Jungkook terrified.

“What do you think it is?” you try to ask him, eyes flickering toward him worriedly.

“I don’t know, but— WATCH OUT!”

A deer is in the middle of the dirt road. Caught in the headlights, it stands frozen.

It feels like everything happens in slow motion.

You and Jungkook are screaming as your hands turn the wheel, swerving out of the way before you hit the poor animal.

Your foot is on the brakes, but the roads are slippery. You’re not able to stop.

Your car slams against a tree. Jungkook’s arm protectively shields you as the airbags trigger upon impact.

Everything feels slowed down, but it happens in an instant.

“Don’t hurt her.”

You’re not sure when, but you must have passed out.

With effort, you try to open your eyes. Your vision is blurry, but you can see that you’ve been pulled out of your car. The front is completely wrecked. Your car door is open and the airbags on both sides are deflated.

It’s still raining. You can feel yourself getting soaked, but you’re pressed against something solid and warm. How did you get here? Is that deer okay?

Where’s Jungkook?

“You don’t need her. You don’t need any of them.”

You don’t recognize that voice. It’s deep and has a bit of a drawl. But you can practically feel the hatred in their voice as you start to drift back into unconsciousness.

“No, she’s different. Please. Please don’t hurt her,” you hear Jungkook begging. His voice wavers as he holds you tighter. “She’s my human.”

“Guys, that’s enough.” A different voice cuts in. This one, somehow, sounds familiar. Deeper than the previous speaker, but warm and smooth. Whoever this voice belongs to seems to recognize one of you too. “Is that— Who are you?”

When you wake up again, you can still hear the rain. It’s soothing this time. The heavy pellets hit the large window, obscuring the view with a watery, grey blur. Your eyes are drawn to the curtains, velvet in color and tied with a knotted rope. There’s a bench in front of the window, stacked with cushions, that looks cozy. You could easily imagine yourself curled up with a book, a blanket, and a bunch of pillows in that spot.

You don’t remember seeing a little nook like that at the motel before.

Actually, you don’t remember any of the motels having one at all.

Where are you?

Panic starts to seep in when you don’t recognize the room you’re in. It looks old. Stuck in a forgotten time with antique furniture and outdated flooring and wallpaper. As you move beneath the duvet, you realize that your clothes have been removed and you’re now wearing one of Kangdae’s shirts that you let Jungkook borrow.

Did he do this? Where is Jungkook anyway?

It looks like you’re alone in this room. But beyond the bedroom door, you’re not sure what’s waiting for you out there.

Across the room, you’re surprised to see your belongings on a chair. Whoever Jungkook was talking to, they must have brought you and your stuff here. You waste no time to get out of Kangdae’s clothes and dress into your own, your feet creaking loudly against the floorboards as you make your way to your duffel bag.

Other than your hybrid friend, nothing else seems to be missing. Everything you packed, including what money you have left, is still there.

You glance over at the door again. One thing is for sure. Jungkook is on the other side somewhere. You can’t just wait around here forever.

The floorboards continue to creak beneath your feet as you make your way to the door. Once you pull it open, the hinges squealing as you do, you nearly scream.

A tall man with dark, wavy hair and small, round ears is just at the other side. His face is strikingly handsome, and his gaze is penetrating as he rests his arm against the doorway and leans so close to you, you can see the tiny beauty marks beneath his eye, on the tip of his nose, his cheek, and his bottom lip.

“Little human. Aren’t you being too noisy?”

“I’m sorry!” you quickly reply, thoroughly mortified. It must have been the floorboards, or maybe even when you were rummaging through your duffel bag for clothes. You didn’t think you were being too loud, but…

“Taehyung, don’t scare our guest away,” another voice says from the hallway.

When you look at the newcomer’s voice, your eyes widen in shock. For a moment, you think you’re looking at an angel. His face looks soft and kind, with full lips and a defined jaw. Some of his dark bangs cover his sharp eyes. But where one of his arms is human, lean and toned with muscle, his other arm is a long, feathered black wing that makes him somehow look more ethereal.

“I’m not scaring her, Jimin,” the one named Taehyung whines, straightening up. It’s when he’s at his full length when you realize just how tall this man is. And how sharp his claws are. He peers down at you and confirms, “Right, little human?”

“Um. Yes?”

The one named Jimin moves so gracefully as he approaches you two. There’s a friendly smile on his angelic face. “Don’t mind him. He usually hibernates around this time, so he’s a little cranky. Bear hybrids tend to sleep more than the rest of us.”

Taehyung snorts and scratches his belly. Even if he doesn’t admit it, Jimin must be right. There’s a hint of tiredness in his stoic face.

“It’s all right,” Taehyung mumbles, now scratching his head.

“You must be hungry,” Jimin guesses, and at the very mention of food, your stomach growls in agreement. Heat colors your cheeks, but Jimin continues to smile and merely nods to where he came from. “Follow me, then. I’ll tell Seokjin and Yoongi to make something for you.”

Again, it looks like he’s floating with every step he takes. It’s obvious that he’s a bird hybrid, but his graceful movements remind you of a swan. A black swan.

Behind you, much to your surprise, Taehyung follows. Earlier, he seemed so adamant about going back to sleep. There’s still a grumpy, tired look on his face – brown eyes glazed over with drowsiness and his lips pouting slightly – yet, he still trails behind both you and Jimin.

The swan hybrid notices and smirks a little. “He’s curious about you.”

You can’t really imagine why. Or if that’s even a good thing.

Jimin leads you both to a foyer. There are more hybrids sitting around the fireplace. It’s warm, orange glow casts lights upon each of their animalistic features.

From the lounge chair is a man with pale skin and leopard-printed ears and a long tail. Along one side of his neck, shoulder, and arm are spots that look like tattoos. His gaze feels intimidating the moment he locks eyes with you, and his long tail swishes back and forth slowly.

On the other chair, another man turns to look at you as well. Like Taehyung, his face is strikingly handsome. Pointed ears and a long tail indicate that he’s a wolf, but bigger. You’re not sure if it’s the reflection of the fire, but his sharp eyes look golden and are practically glowing.

The last one, sitting comfortably with the predator hybrids, is an elaphocentuar – half-human, half-deer. The upper-part of his body is of a human man with strong antlers on his head, but the bottom-half is of a spotted deer. The reddish-brown of his fur matches the hair on his head.

A few days ago, you’ve rarely seen a hybrid in person. Now, you’re in a room full of them.

“You’re awake!” a familiar voice exclaims before a solid mass just pulls you into a tight hug. Relief washes over you when you recognize who it is.

“Jungkook! Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” you immediately ask, your voice a little muffled from his hold. You pull away enough to get a good look at him. There are some fresh bruises from the accident, but no broken bones or concerning wounds from what you can tell.

“I’m fine. I was more worried about you,” he admits as he begins to ramble. “I was a little disoriented, but I managed to get out of the car. I pulled you out of the driver’s seat too. The car is completely wrecked! I don’t know if you’ll be able to drive it anymore. But that deer we almost hit was a hybrid!”

You glance over at the deer hybrid. He moves a little closer to the leopard-hybrid, body entirely stiff since you stepped into the room, and staring at you like he’s still caught in the headlights. You feel awful and you don’t blame him at all for being scared of you.

“I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

The deer-hybrid merely blinks, as if he isn’t sure you’re talking to him. Then, meekly, he replies, “I’m not hurt.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re not,” you tell him sincerely.

“Me too,” Jungkook agrees, offering a small smile at the deer-hybrid as well. “They found us right after the accident. You were so cold and wet, I was worried you wouldn’t wake up. They said I had to get you out of your wet clothes or you’d get sick, but I promise I didn’t do anything weird! And then, I just waited for you to wake up on your own. You’ve been asleep for a while, and I’m glad you’re okay.”

“We recognized Jungkook as one of us, so we had to check on him,” the leopard-hybrid explains, his gaze not once leaving you. You vaguely recognize his voice as the one Jungkook was arguing with. “He insisted that we had to help you too.”

“She’s different from the other humans!” Jungkook defends. His arms are still around you rather protectively. “She’s so nice. She’s been helping me and taking care of me. I couldn’t just leave her behind.”

“We don’t normally allow humans anywhere near this place,” the handsome wolf adds on. It’s obvious why. Not only are they hybrids, but they’re exotic. Black swan, clouded leopard, dire wolf. Even the bear and deer hybrids are uncommon compared to the rabbits, dogs, cats, rodents, and bird hybrids. “But the young master of this manor made an exception for you.”

“The master?”

“That would be me.”

The final resident of this house of hybrids steps in. He’s tall and muscular with perfect body proportions. He has short, brown hair and tanned skin. But the fullness of his lips, the deep dimples in his cheeks, and the dark sunglasses over his eyes are things you instantly recognize.

You haven't seen him since that night all those years ago.

“Rap Monster?”

His lips stretch into a smile. “I haven’t been called that in a long time.”

Jungkook looks between you and the master of the house, eyes wide with awe and surprise. “That’s Rap Monster? Your favorite artist?”

Rap Monster arches an eyebrow. “Favorite artist?”

You feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Yeah, you, uh. You rap good.”

The leopard snorts, and you feel the curious gazes of the hybrids around you. You’re ready to crawl back into the room you woke up in and hide forever until you hear Rap Monster’s laughter.

Unlike the other hybrids, Rap Monster doesn’t have any animal parts to his body. No round ears or fluffy tails, no antlers or hooves, no feathered wings or webbed feet.

He looks completely human.

Except for one thing.

“I’ve gotten a lot better at rapping over the years. I’ll have to show you sometime,” he says, taking off his sunglasses. The move is unexpected to the hybrids living with him as he reveals to you his serpent eyes. The irises are a beautiful blend of indigo, deeper and more purple on the outer edges and bluer and lighter in the inner parts – unlike anything humans could naturally have. Warm brown is around the dark pupils that are vertically slitted, and they’re even more beautiful than you remember.

You could never forget eyes like his. They’re mesmerizing.

“That would be really nice,” you tell him, forcing yourself to look away from them. “But I don’t want to be a bother. I really appreciate the help and I can’t thank you enough for bringing us in, but I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

He arches an eyebrow at you again. It makes your stomach flip a little, and not in an entirely bad way. “How? The storm is still going and your car is damaged.”

Your heart sinks a little. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

Truth be told, you have no idea what to do now. Your car was your only means of transportation, and it’s undrivable. It’s too dangerous for you to travel around in the forest by foot, especially if you don’t know how far you are from the main roads. And even then, you’re reported as a missing person. Kangdae and the others are trying to find you.

“Don’t be silly. Just stay with us,” Rap Monster kindly offers. “I wouldn’t have allowed you in if I thought you’d be a danger to my pack.”

You glance at the other hybrids in the room. They’re looking at you with uncertainty, and perhaps, a bit of annoyance. They’ve told you themselves that they’re weary of humans, and given the history between your species and theirs, you can’t exactly blame them for that. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You won’t,” he assures you gently. In those two words alone, the doubt and hesitation start to leave your mind. “Stay as long as you like.”

It feels crazy and stupid, but at this point, trying to leave this shelter in the middle of a storm feels crazier and stupider.

“Okay,” you decide, peering up at his beautiful eyes again. “Until the storm passes.”

“Until the storm passes,” he agrees, as the clash of thunder and lightning seem even louder than before.

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

One of his friends has her arm linked with yours, anchoring you to her. Her eyes are bright with excitement as she screams in your ear, “Fighting! Kangdae!”

The one you’re all here to see stands on the stage, relishing in the audience’s attention. There’s a smug look on his face when he meets your gaze, as if checking to see if you’re just as impressed with his performance as the rest of the audience is.

Politely, you clap your hands, not quite sure what the etiquette for these types of things are.

The host continues to rile up the crowd, daring any of the other contestants to step forward and challenge Kangdae.

No one does.

Except for one.

Silence follows as a lanky, tall contestant comes onstage. One that no one has heard from yet. Sunglasses cover his eyes, but you can make out some of his predominant features: his full lips, the deep dimples in his shy smile, his tanned skin.

“Okay, kid,” the host says, intrigued. “Show us what you got.”

The kid is handed a mic. Kangdae looks him up and down and scoffs.

The difference between the two is telling. 

Kangdae lives for the attention, wildly gesturing and getting into his opponent’s face. He encourages the crowd to cheer him on like that. Their hoots and hollering pumps the adrenaline in his veins as he verbally attacks the guy ballsy enough to challenge him.

His opponent, to your surprise, stands quietly as he’s thrown insult after insult. Then, when it’s his turn, the room falls in awe. His flow makes him sound professional, even though he sounds quite young. You’re impressed with his wordplay, how he keeps up with the rhythm, how he delivers the lines.

He’s by far your favorite of all the ones you’ve heard tonight.

There’s a clear winner after the boy with sunglasses is done, though rather than shove his victory at his opponent’s face, he holds out his hand to Kangdae and offers a dimpled smile.

Rap Monster.

That’s what they call him.

And as Kangdae bitterly shakes his hand, stunned at the turn of events, you’re beginning to see why they call him that.

In your small, provincial town, Kangdae has it all. He’s a handsome young man, athletic and popular. His family is well-off; so much so that he can indulge in expensive clothing brands, own the newest models and gadgets, and party every weekend at some bougie club or resort. Guys look up to him. Girls are in love with him. He lives off the attention and praise from his big circle of friends.

And yet, for whatever shallow reason, he seems fixated on you.

Unlike Kangdae, you hate being in the spotlight. It makes you shy. It makes you feel nervous. You tend to keep to yourself because of that, reading books or watching animal videos on your phone. You feel like you hardly have any friends in the town.

Then, one day, seemingly out of nowhere, Kangdae declares he wants you to be his girl.

And suddenly, you’re on everybody’s radar.

Why would someone so brilliant and outgoing even be interested in a boring and quiet person like you? 

That’s a question even you often wonder.

Finding the answers to that, however, becomes unwarranted.

People start to talk to you. People you’ve never spoken to before suddenly act friendly toward you. People who’ve never spared you a glance suddenly want to know all your dirty secrets. People who don’t even know you begin to spread rumors.

“The whole town already knows you’re my girl,” Kangdae tells you one day, while you’re sitting on the steps of your house, eyes red from tears of a recent bullying incident. He doesn’t seem to care about that though. In fact, you’re certain he’s even laughed about it at your expense. “Why don’t we just make it official? You’re not dating anyone, are you?”

“Are you even attracted to me?” you ask him seriously.

He shrugs. “Yeah, you’re hot. I heard quiet girls can get quite freaky too.”

“No way,” you cut in, repulsed by his insinuation. You stand on your feet, turning to go inside. “I’ll never–”

Before you could open the door, you’re suddenly shoved against it. Kangdae towers over you, anger burning in his eyes. He’s never been rejected. He always gets his way. 

It’s something you learn the hard way.

“Then I’ll make sure your life continues to be a living hell,” he threatens before he releases you.

More than before, unwanted attention is thrown at you. As soon as you enter the classroom, people stare and sneer. You hear them whisper about you in the hallways. You’re confronted in small groups. Accusations that you think you’re too good to be dating someone like Kangdae. How there must be something wrong with you.

In the eyes of many, Kangdae is perfect. Objectively handsome. Popular among his peers. Comes from money. All the guys you know want to be him. All the girls you know want to be with him. What makes a nobody like you think that you can do better?

You hardly had any friends in the town, but not once have you ever felt this isolated. You’ve never felt this singled-out. It feels like the whole world is against you.

You can’t take it.

“Kangdae,” you call out to him, stopping as he’s about to head to the field. He’s dressed in his sports uniform, about to go into a match against another school. “One date.”

A Cheshire smile spreads across his face. “I knew you wouldn’t resist, babe.”

You try not to cringe when he plants a wet kiss on your cheek.

Maybe you’re naïve. But maybe that’s why Kangdae is after you.

You’re quiet, soft-spoken, and incredibly shy. You don’t have a lot of friends, and you haven’t had a serious relationship before him. You don’t know anything about what love really is. Yet, despite what an odd loner you are, you’re a beautiful girl. Innocent and loyal to a fault. An easy target for Kangdae to walk all over. 

With his hand around your waist, you feel like an accessory. Before you ever considered dating him, he already declared you as his girlfriend, telling even strangers that he passed by that you would one day be his.

“Right from the moment I saw you, I think I fell in love,” he admits on your first date, taking you to a nice, upscale restaurant. It’s different from anything you’ve experienced in your small town. The menu items are so expensive, it doesn't list pricing, and each course that is presented at your table is like a work of art.

What’s most interesting about this restaurant, however, isn’t just the food. But the staff.

Gorgeous women in white blouses and black skirts that show off their voluptuous curves and long legs. Poking at the back of the skirts are tails. And on their heads are pairs of animal ears. Some of them have stripes or spots on their skin, some have nails as sharp as claws, and some have unique eyes like cats and reptiles. 

Hybrids.

Neither human, nor animal. But something in-between.

In your town, coming across them is rare but not unheard of. They usually dwell in the cities, where sanctuaries housing them are. Some are adopted into families or are hired to do difficult and dirty work with an employer willing to work with them. But most aren’t as lucky, and are treated as sub-human. Worse than how some people care for their beloved cat or dog.

“What makes you say that?” you ask Kangdae as a bunny hybrid brings out the next course. She, like the other hybrids, is quite beautiful.

“Because you’re gorgeous,” he simply states as he sips on some liquor. Then, suddenly, he smacks the hybrid’s ass. “Hey, isn’t my girlfriend gorgeous?”

“Kangdae!” 

“Yes, sir,” the hybrid quickly answers before practically running away from the table. You feel awful, but Kangdae cackles as if it’s the most entertaining thing he’s seen all evening.

“Babe, don’t be mad. She’s just a hybrid.”

One date turns into another. He showers you with expensive gifts, and takes you out to luxurious places. Sometimes, it’s nice. You never imagined you’d be leaning against the railing of a yacht, feeling the salt air against your skin as the boat cruises through deep blue waters. Or fine dining at rooftop restaurants in the big cities with a breathtaking view of the skylines.

You find yourself watching underground rap contests, and witnessing the skill and poetry of a particular contestant that caught your attention once. A tall boy with a thick pair of sunglasses and a dimpled smile.

Other times, it can feel overwhelming. Like you’re undeserving all the things that he bombards you with, and you owe it to him for one more date. One more party he wants you to come with him too. One more ‘this is the last time’ before he asks you again.

He introduces you to his friends, showing you off to them despite how out of place you feel among them. He texts and calls you all the time, wanting to know where you are and who you’re with, and letting you know that he’s thinking about you in persistent, long messages. He posts about you on his social media, calling you his girl, as engagements of likes, views, and comments fill underneath it.

People tell you all the time that you’re lucky though.

Of all the girls he could’ve been with, he picked you. Someone handsome, rich, and popular fell in love at first sight with a boring, quiet, lonely girl like you.

And maybe that’s why you stay. Who else would love you if not him?

Next week, you find yourself in the same, abandoned warehouse. Another night, another show. Another chance for Kangdae to redeem himself.

One thing about him is that he hates to lose. His pride just wouldn’t allow it.

Yet, once again, he doesn’t stand a chance.

This time, Rap Monster seems to be the crowd favorite. Everyone cheers for him once he steps onstage, wearing the same dark sunglasses over his eyes. He seems a bit more confident as he raps, his flow and rhythm even better than last week.

You feel like a fan as you and your group stand close to the stage. Although you’re supposed to be there for Kangdae, you can’t help but cheer his opponent on. Your heart jumps when you see Rap Monster catch your eye and give you a dimpled smile, bowing like a prince when he ends his round.

A shift can be felt once it’s Kangdae’s turn with the mic. People in your group and some of the audience make some noise, but the majority of strangers in the crowd are merely nodding along or quietly listening. 

Until the first heckle comes. Followed by someone else yelling at him to get off the stage.

Mean laughter fills the room, and you almost feel bad for Kangdae.

Had it not been for what he does next.

Gasps and exclamations of shock are followed when he suddenly punches Rap Monster.

“Hey, no! You can’t do that shit!” the host yells as the security guards make haste to handle the situation. They pull Kangdae away, trying to de-escalate, but it’s too late. The crowd gets riled up, shouting and egging him on. Two men have to hold Kangdae down, but he’s strong. He nearly manages to break free and get to Rap Monster’s face a couple times. Rap Monster’s sunglasses are knocked off, and he’s holding his face with one hand, covering an eye.

Because when he opens the other one… it looks strange.

It doesn’t look human.

A couple people up front scream in terror as they point at him. “A monster!”

“He’s one of them!” another shouts in disgust. “He’s a hybrid!”

Suddenly, the room seems to quiet down as they all look at him, stunned, horrified, disgusted. You could see him trying to hide his face as the host snaps at him, “This event is for humans only!”

The sunglasses have fallen near you, and without thinking, you quickly grab them and climb onto the stage. You don’t know what’s gotten over you. You hate attention. You hate being in the spotlight. You’re often shy and insecure, and always stay in your lane.

But you have to help.

“Here,” you tell him gently, pushing the broken sunglasses toward his hand. Up this close, you feel so small standing next to him. “You should get out of here.” 

He nods his head and takes them from you, seeming grateful and a little scared. His eyes look reptilian like a serpent, but they’re pretty. You feel like you can’t forget them.

In the innermost area of the iris, near his slightly vertical pupil, is a hint of warm brown, but the rest is a mix of deep blue and purple. The color of indigo. 

“Get away from her, you beast,” Kangdae commands, but Rap Monster is already walking away from the stage. Away from you.

Somehow, the rain outside seems to pour harder as he leaves.

It’s been years since that night.

Kangdae seemed over it, wanting to chase his fifteen minutes of fame elsewhere. And while you were interested in one of the rappers, you aren’t keen enough to keep going back. It isn’t like that Rap Monster would be welcomed at the future showings anyway.

However, you start listening to hip-hop music more than other genres these days. Secretly hoping that, if you’re to meet him again, maybe the two of you could talk about some of the artists you like. Books that you’ve read, movies you’ve seen.

But you haven’t seen him since.

You end up working for Kangdae’s family. In such a small, provincial town, there isn’t much of an option. His family seems to own and have connections to everything.

To the point where even your family tells you how lucky you are. Kangdae is a catch. Marrying him would guarantee a well-off life with someone objectively handsome, who thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in town, who you’d be out of your mind to leave or break things off with.

Although your father and your siblings mean well, you could only nod in defeat. You can’t bear to tell them how miserable you are with Kangdae.

The same man who tells you you’re the one for him, but flirts with other women in front of you. Who gets angry over little things and takes it out on you, screaming at your face, throwing things that nearly hit you, punching holes in walls and doors, or leaving you confused and worried for days without a word until he finally decides to come back. He’d shower you with expensive gifts and affection to make up for it, but his sweeter side never stays long before the cycle repeats.

And you can’t seem to find your way out of it.

The constant pressure to be with Kangdae has you wishing you could just disappear from the town.  To run away from it all and never go back.

But you’re a coward, and you don’t know where else to go. Everyone in town likes Kangdae, and even your family wouldn’t believe what a monster he really is.

In the apartment you share with him, it’s dark and empty. Empty bottles of soju and beer are on the coffee table, dirty dishes are in the sink for you to clean, there’s still a gaping hole in the pantry from an argument a couple weeks ago that hasn’t been fixed. But Kangdae’s shoes aren’t by the door, and you don’t imagine he’d be back anytime soon.

With a quiet, defeated sigh, you take off your shoes and your coat, place your purse down, and begin cleaning up the mess. You go through the motions of it, exhausted from work, from having more to do once you get home, and as you gather the bottles, you see that he’s placed some on top of a book.

A fairy tale story about a far-off place, daring sword fights, and a prince in disguise.

It’s your favorite. The local librarian gave it to you as a gift, and Kangdae is using it as a coaster. And one of the half-empty bottles has spilled over, soaking through the pages.

Angry, you drop the bag on the ground, letting the bottles clatter against each other, and pick up the book, trying to salvage the ruined cover. But rings of liquid stain the front, and the pages are wrinkled from the liquid, blurring the texts so they’re unreadable.

Even before, the book is already a bit worn-out when it was gifted to you, but it still makes you want to cry. Kangdae doesn’t seem to care about you at all anymore.

How much longer are you going to put up with this? Shouldn’t you deserve your own happiness? Shouldn’t you deserve to be loved? 

You have to leave him. You don’t know when. You don’t know how. But you have to. 

That much you know.

Your plans are foiled by a single question.

“Will you marry me?”

Horror strikes your face. Down on one knee before you is Kangdae with a beautiful diamond ring. You could feel every person in the room staring at you, waiting for an answer. All his friends, your family, and even random strangers at the venue are gathered unexpectedly and witnessing his proposal. Wide smiles and excited looks surround you, as if they already know you’ll say yes.

Do you want to say yes?

Are you going to tell him no? In front of all these people?

“Kangdae, I—” you start to say, your voice trembling. You could feel the pressure weighed upon you, setting you close to a panic.

Your boyfriend doesn’t notice how uncomfortable you are. He’s busy flashing a bright, charming smile at the anticipating crowd for his big moment. His smile starts to falter when you take too long to respond.

Behind the smile, you could almost sense it. The heat of his anger.

You have to say something. You have to decide.

You have to tell him no.

“I…” you begin again. Your gaze catches Kangdae’s family, and how they nod their head, encouraging you to continue. Your voice is very soft and almost defeated when you say, “Okay.”

“Yes? You’re saying yes?” Kangdae exclaims loudly as the people around cheer and clap. You even see some girls start to burst into tears. Girls you know Kangdae frequently talk to. Your family seems relieved, worried that you’d reject him, that you’d shame and humiliate them with your refusal.

But it’s when you look at Kangdae’s family where your blood runs cold. They whisper to each other and nod, gauging the reaction of those witnessing the proposal. It feels like they’re in a business merger, and it occurs to you that maybe, to them, it is one.

You feel numb as Kangdae pulls you into a kiss and a tight embrace.

You’re engaged now.

And it makes you want to throw up.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Kangdae whines, trying to pull you closer to him. “Why are you upset? We’re engaged now!”

“Is it because you want to marry me? Or because your family made you?”

He scoffs. “What are you saying?”

It’s been years since the two of you have been together. Years of you being compliant, years of you arguing behind closed doors, of you silently suffering and hoping that things will get better. That, perhaps, one day you could convince yourself that he’ll change his ways. That he'll love you.

Perhaps in front of your family and friends, the two of you act like a happy couple.

You’re the girlfriend he brags about. Arm candy that he can show off because you’re the prettiest girl in town. Someone that his parents approve of, and often question when he’ll pop the question to you. A question, you suspect, puts his inheritance on the line if he hadn’t proposed so soon.

“Kangdae, do you even love me?”

Kangdae laughs. It’s a dark, biting chuckle that makes your skin crawl. “For a pretty girl, you sure say a lot of stupid shit. What kind of fucking question is that?”

Your mouth snaps shut. Until he snaps at you to answer him. “Kangdae, I…”

“Didn’t I propose to you? What more do you want, huh?”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you realize how lucky you are to be with a guy like me? I spent so much money on you! I buy you nice things. I take you to beautiful places. I’ve helped you get a job at my parents’ company. I’ve bought you a home. And this is how you repay me?”

“Kangdae, please, just hear me out,” you plead, but the guilt and fear are already eating at you. It’s true that he’s provided you with so much. Are you being foolish? Ungrateful?

“Don’t forget, stupid bitch,” he threatens, his voice low as he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks with his grip. “You will be my wife. You’re nothing without me. I will make your life a living hell. If you think this is the worst, then you’ve seen nothing yet.”

He storms out. 

And as the door slams shut, you slowly sink to the floor, trembling as his words of a very bleak future run through your head. Crying in misery and frustration that you, once again, couldn’t stand up for yourself. That you still feel too scared to just leave him and all you know behind. That his anger and selfishness will continue to wear you down.

That, soon, you’ll be married to a monster.

It’s after a long day at work when you see Kangdae again. However, he isn’t alone.

“What’s going on? What is this?”

You frown at the sight before you. Kangdae is on the couch, and kneeling by his feet and wrapped in a ribbon is a young man.

No, a hybrid. A bunny hybrid.

He’s very muscular, with bruises and scratches covering his golden skin. His hair is dark, matching the long, black ears on his head. And his eyes are big, round, and full of fear as he stares back at you.

“Don’t you like him? Watched him in a fight last night. He’s pretty tough for a bunny, but lost in the final round. His owner was pissed! Nearly knocked him out himself!” Kangdae cackles with laughter, seeming to have found it amusing. "But babe, remember our first date? Remember those hybrid servers you kept staring at?”

“Yes,” you reply with a frown, not really sure what he’s getting at. What do they have to do with the bunny hybrid currently in your living room?

“I convinced the owner to let me borrow his hybrid for the night. As an apology gift,” he states with a proud smile. “Had to fork up a lot of money, but the guy wasn’t too pleased about his prized fighter losing the match anyway.”

“I-I’m not… he’s…” You’re at a loss of words. How could he explain this to you so casually?

“I wanted to make it up to you, babe. Girls dig shit like this, right? Owner kept bragging on and on about how obedient he is and how much stamina he has.” Kangdae can see you’re not into the idea and comes up to you, touching your arm. “I don’t mind. I’d love to watch. Hell, I might even invite the girls over to give him a try.”

“Stop. You’re disgusting.”

How could he think you’d be okay with this? How could anyone?

Hybrids often get treated like pets, but they’re still human. 

“Ungrateful cunt. Can't you see I’m trying to do something nice for you?!” Kangdae roars, and you feel the sting on your face before it registers what happened. He just slapped you.

You’re still in shock and a bit of pain as he grabs his car keys and a jacket. You cradle your cheek as you numbly ask, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a drink. Don’t wait up for me.” He slams the door on his way out. You blink back the tears as a deafening silence follows the roar of his engine, the squeals of his tires as he takes off.

Is this all your fault again? Are you being ungrateful?

No, no. Kangdae is the one taking things too far. And you’re so fed up with it.

You've always been afraid to speak up for yourself. You’ve always been a coward, and wanted to play things safe. You’ve always let him walk all over you. You could never save yourself from such a miserable situation.

You’re so preoccupied with your thoughts, you almost forgot you aren’t alone. The sound of rustling catches your attention, and you see the bunny hybrid trying to unravel himself from the ribbon binding him.

“I can help you,” you offer, and he flinches at your voice. You soften your tone and try again. “Would you let me? I promise, I won’t hurt you.”

He thinks about it for a moment, glancing at you with suspicion and weariness. But he nods his head. Despite how bruised up he is, he probably figures he could overpower you if you really intended to harm him.

The two of you are silent as you untie the long ribbon from his wrists and slip it off his torso. But being this close to him also gives you a good view on all the cuts and sores he received from the fight.

Your heart sinks for him. Not only is it highly illegal, but this one is a prey. They’re not supposed to fight in the first place.

“Wait here,” you tell him once he’s free from the bondage. He rubs his wrist, but continues to sit on the floor. Nothing is really stopping him from leaving on his own, so you hurry to find a first-aid kit.

When you return to the living room, the bunny hybrid is still there. He hasn’t moved an inch from his spot. He eyes the little box in your hands, seeming to recognize it.

“I think this should help with some of your wounds. Is it okay if I help you with this too?”

This time, he nods his head more eagerly.

Again, a silence falls between you two. But it isn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it’s been a while since you’ve been in the presence of someone else and the silence felt natural. Every now and then, you’d give him a head’s up about the sting of a topical spray or ask him if the bandage you’re wrapping around him is too tight. And he watches you the whole time, nodding and shaking his head when prompted, seeming used to this. You wonder how often he has to treat his own wounds after being thrown in battle.

The silence is cut when his stomach growls loudly. He looks incredibly embarrassed as you offer a small smile. “I have some food in the fridge if you’re hungry. Let me just finish doing this.”

It doesn’t take too much time at all to treat his wounds and wrap fresh bandages on his injuries. You’ve only encountered hybrids a couple times, so you’re not entirely sure what he’d like to eat. You assume fruits and vegetables, but would that be enough?

You start to pull them out and you’re startled when you see the hybrid standing over your shoulder. You see him eyeing a jar of kimchi and take that out as well.

“Does kimchi fried rice sound good to you?” you ask him, and he nods his head more excitedly. His eyes look brighter too, as if you guessed exactly what he’s craving.

Endeared, you begin to get to work. You pull out the leftover rice, sauces, and the ingredients needed to cook it. The hybrid watches as you chop the vegetables and first cook out the onions before adding in the other vegetables and rice. In another pan, you fry a couple eggs to serve over the rice, and sprinkle some toppings of sesame seeds, nori, and sliced green onion. You ransack your fridge for some side dishes you could pair it with, serving some yellow pickled radishes, pickled cucumbers, and seaweed salad in small bowls.

The hybrid watches with big, round eyes and a jittering leg as you set the food before him. You tell him to eat and you barely take a bite of your own dish before he picks up his bowl and devours it like he hasn’t eaten in days. His brows are furrowed and he starts huffing, but he’s quick to grab the side dish closest to him and cleans that as well.

“Is it good?” you ask him tentatively. 

He gives a brief nod, mouth too full to answer, and fills his bowl with seconds.

“I’m glad. I would’ve made more if I had known you’d be this hungry,” you tell him, heart full just seeing him eat well.

You can’t help but feel sorry for him. You can’t imagine what he’s been through, and you don’t want him to be sent back to his owner. You don’t want him to be put in another dangerous and exploiting situation.

“I’m sorry about him. That guy that was here earlier,” you begin. You’ve barely eaten, but you push your share toward him. “He’s not a nice person.”

The bowl he takes from you covers his face, but his ears twitch toward you. They show that he’s listening to you.

“Your owner isn’t a nice person either, huh?”

The hybrid freezes at the mention of his owner. He lowers the bowl a little and he looks terrified. For the first time, he speaks to you. His word is barely a whisper. “Don’t…”

This time, your eyes widen. “What?”

“Please…” he begs, putting the bowl down. Grains of rice stick around his mouth as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Please don’t let me go back to him. Please help me.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

I also love how the atmosphere was described. There is such a stark, heartbreaking contrast between the cold, trapped reality the reader escapes from and the warmth of the manor. The worldbuilding is so thoughtful, but ugh…my heart hurts on how hybrids are treated here. I literally teared up in Chapter 3 when Taehyung keeps asking if she thought they were monsters.

Also, as someone who knows the animated Beauty and the Beast by heart, I absolutely loved the nostalgic parallels (the library, the ballroom, and even some of the quotes). It feels beautifully familiar yet entirely special on its own.

Other favorite parts:

Found Family trope - I wasn't expecting this trope at all, but seeing the pack slowly warm up to MC was pure heart.

The Dynamics - The protective bond between MC and Jungkook (our precious bunny!) is so endearing, and Namjoon’s characterization is flawless. His final hybrid form (no spoilers here!!!) was just breathtaking and such an unexpected, beautiful surprise at the end!

Smeraldo Lore - The inclusion was so timely for me because I was re-reading the Smeraldo stories; one of my favorites was the gardener x flower girl and it mirrors Namjoon and his greenhouse so well.

It flows seamlessly from cozy domestic fluff to high-stakes action by the end. I was completely immersed and just desperately wanting the best for them in a world where they are outcasts.

He reaches toward a stack of papers on his desk and hands it to you. 

At the top of the pile is an old news article about a missing child that was last seen in the woods. The young boy’s parents were with him during a hike and only took their eyes off of him for a second before he disappeared. Search parties spent days looking for him, but to no avail. In the article is the photo and name of the missing child.

Kim Taehyung.

Your eyes widen.

You look at the next paper and see it’s a dedication page from a self-published book. A grieving, foolish sister still mourns her missing brother, claiming it’s her fault he’s disappeared. Snippets of the story recount her encounter with the Fae and how she fell into debt to them, only to be saved by her selfless little brother. Among the pages is a photo of a young child with deep dimples.

Kim Namjoon.

In your hands is a collection of missing children reports, certified records, news articles, and other documents from your world that identify the Lost Boys – including the six that are remaining. “What is all this?”

“Something once forgotten, but is now found,” Hook says smugly. “I’ve scoured between worlds for any leads about our old friends before they were lured into this hell. Names mean something in Neverland, and I intend to use what I’ve found to set them free from Hope and from being his Lost Boys.”

It must’ve taken years of dedication and ambition for Hook and his crew to gather all these findings. All this research, following slim leads, and running into countless dead ends. He’s truly dedicated everything for his brothers.

“This is incredible, Hook.”

“James,” he corrects, watching as you continue to look through them. “It feels strange hearing you call me anything else.”

“I want to go home, Hobi.”

“Why? Aren’t you having fun?”

It doesn’t make sense to him. You get along with the boys. He showed you beautiful, rare sights. He broadened your horizons, experiencing all the fun indulgences and temptations you couldn’t have in your world. He taught you to be strong, to fight, to fly. Why would you ever want to leave?

“I miss my mother. And my father and Nana. My brothers miss them, too.”

Tears leak from your eyes, and it breaks the young faerie’s heart.

Hope isn’t all that bad. Rather, there are days when he can be all good. But faeries feel things differently than humans. Emotions are simple, but intense. Anger burns. Sadness makes him feel like he’s drowning. Joy gives him the ability to fly. Whatever he feels at the moment consumes him entirely.

Love, however, is a complicated emotion.

Especially for children like you and the faerie prince.

Hope loves you, but in a way that’s frightening. Possessive. He only wants you to look at him, and no one else. He’ll chop off the hand of anyone who dares to touch you because you’re his. He’ll figure out a way to make you stay with him forever.

Even if that means saying goodbye for now.

The faerie prince cradles your face and wipes your tears. Right now, after bringing you to his world for the first time, he is good. Generous.

He wants to make you happy.

“Then, let’s make a deal,” the young faerie proposes. Flecks of gold shimmer in the browns of his eyes as an otherworldly magic begins to happen. “I will take you home whenever you want, as long as you promise to always come back to me.”

You sniffle and look at his extended hand.

This is your first time in Neverland. But while you love the adventures and the friends you’ve made, it’s not home to you. Not yet. You still remember your family, going to school, and the nursery you shared with your brothers.

You still have so much growing up to do.

Which is why – despite all the warnings your Nana had told you – you had no idea you were making a deal with the devil. Your fate is sealed to him the moment you – burdened with homesickness – nod your head and allow him to press his lips against the corner of your lips.

The faerie prince smiles as the invisible contract is made.

You were always meant to be his, but now, it’s official. 

When you’re away, you’ll dream of this place. You’ll dream of him. And when you return, you’ll slowly lose track of time. Until, eventually, you won’t even think of them at all anymore. It’s easy to forget how many days have passed when time stands still in this world.

And, to keep his end of the bargain – because he’s still so good right now – he leans over your ear and tells you the secret you need to bring you home.

His real name.

In total, James has gathered about twenty names.

Only six of them are what’s left of the Lost Boys: Kim Namjoon. Kim Seokjin. Min Yoongi. Park Jimin. Kim Taehyung. Jeon Jungkook.

James leans back against his seat and sighs. “That’s all that’s left of them, huh.”

“Yes,” you confirm, separating their documents from the rest. “Only them.”

“Fuck…”

You frown. It aligns with the story Namjoon told you when you first returned to Neverland. How there used to be about twenty or so of them, and how their numbers dwindled drastically. “What happened to them, exactly? The rest of the boys?”

He doesn’t answer for a while, seeming conflicted on how much to tell you. Then, he sighs again and straightens up on his desk. 

“The last time you left, something dark and twisted grew inside Hope. Something that’s been in him for a very long time now. I noticed it the first time he brought you to Neverland. He hated when you didn’t want to play with him. He’d get jealous if you’d spent too much time with another lost boy. He’d always find a way to make you stay longer, to make excuses so you wouldn’t bring your brothers with you to Neverland, to isolate you from the rest of us so you could be his alone.”

You shiver. As a kid, you liked the attention he gave you. You naively thought it meant he liked you as much as you liked him. But you didn’t know better.

“When Hope realized that he may never see you again, it made him… different. Dangerous. Most of us wanted to get away from him before he hurt one of us. There were rumors about a pirate ship that could travel to other worlds, so we thought of abandoning him and joining their crew,” James continues. His gaze seems far off as he recalls the painful memories. “But we got caught. I watched him slay my brothers before my own eyes.”

“It’s my fault,” you whisper, thinking about the ones that are left and how terrified they are of Hobi. “I shouldn’t have come back.”

“I don’t know the circumstances of why you’re here, but I’m certain Hope didn’t give you much of a choice,” James sympathizes. “What matters now is getting you out of Neverland as quickly as possible. It won’t be long until he starts looking for you here.”

You nod your head as the unspoken truth hangs over your head.

The longer you stay with James and his crew, the more dangerous it’ll be for them.

And once Hobi finds you, it’s game over.

In Neverland, it is so easy to forget.

Time blurs the days. What feels like only a short time out in sea could actually be months in the vast, open waters. Sometimes, the reverse happens, and what feels like a lifetime riding through dangerous and turbulent waves is merely hours of a bad storm. The people in this world don’t age – at least, they didn’t use to. And with the indulgences of treasures, the thrill of the sea and being carried to where the winds set sail, and the comradery of men, it is easy to allow memories to drown in the back of their minds.

But Captain James Hook is a man who never forgets.

Just outside the captain’s quarters, you hear men suddenly shouting over each other. The wooden floors of the ship creak from the weight of their hurried footsteps. Among the commotion, you swear you hear the sound of a pan flute.

“What’s happening?” you ask Hook.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he grabs his red coat, a sword, and a pistol.

Someone bangs on the door urgently. His first mate, Smee, calls to him from the other side. “Captain! It’s him! He’s here!”

“Hobi?”

Hook glances at you. He can’t tell whether you sound afraid or relieved that this monster has come for you. “Stay here and stay hidden,” he instructs as he dawns his hat. “Keep away from the door and the windows.”

James remembers his real name as he carved his initials on a wooden disc and tossed it into an empty treasure chest, officially becoming the first Lost Boy of Neverland. He remembers the faces and aliases of the brothers that followed after him, adding their own initials into the accumulating pile of carved wood.

He remembers the good times he had with them, the bond they all shared with each other, and how they all admired Hope as their leader and friend. The boys slept under the stars together, shared their meals, fought and bled for each other during hunts and pirate ambushes. They’ve become brothers, equals despite how long one has been in Neverland over the other.

James remembers the day you were first brought to the underground bunker as well.

You spared Tae from punishment when he nearly killed you. You hugged him and wiped his tears, showing him nothing but kindness. That had instantly put you in the good graces of Min, Kook, and some of the other boys he’s close with. You laughed at Jin’s jokes and attentively listened to Joon and Yoon’s rambles. You took care of all of them when you didn’t need to, always making sure no one was left behind, teaching them how to pick up after themselves, sewing ripped clothes and stuffed toys, warning them to be careful so they don’t get injured, and telling them stories every night.

Hope introduced you as their mother. And in a way, a lot of boys saw you as that figure to them.

And if you were the mother, Hope was the father. He was already their leader and the one who brought them to Neverland. While you won them over with your gentleness and kindness, he lorded over them with fear and respect.

But James never saw you as a mother. He never saw Hope as a father either.

You changed something in Hope the day you acknowledged him and accepted his offer to take you to his world. Something darker. Something possessive.

James listened as you tell the boys another nightly story – a fairytale about true love’s kiss and ends with a happily ever after. 

And James realizes you changed something within him as well.

“You’re wasting your time, Hope! Your wench isn’t here!”

From the clouds, the faerie prince emerges. Hook’s crew noted that he’s been stalking them all morning, watching from the skies like a predator seeking out its prey. After searching all of Neverland for you, he must’ve turned his suspicions to the pirates.

“Don’t you remember the rules of the Fae, Hook?” Hope asks, merely inches away from the captain’s face. He tilts his head and smirks. “Or should I call you James, old friend?”

Dread pummels into the guts of his men, yet their captain remains steadfast. “You hold no power over me, boy.”

Hope bursts into laughter, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his dark eyes. “I’m just here to take back what’s mine. I won’t harm a single hair on your crew’s head if you hand her over peacefully. You have my word.”

“I already told you,” the captain snaps. “Your wench isn’t here. Look somewhere else.”

“Do not lie to me, Hook,” Hope grits out, eyes wild with fury. He leans back, floating in the air and looking down at him. “I know what this is really about. You’ve always been a bit jealous of us, haven’t you?”

Hook glares. “This has nothing to do with that.”

But Hope smugly continues. “It kills you every time she comes back and chooses to be with me. Doesn’t it?”

Tension. Resentment. Bitterness.

The close bond between James and Hope started to spoil by the time you returned to Neverland the second time. And it only became more and more rotten over time.

Hope only showed you his good sides when you were with him. If someone crossed him, he’d carry out their punishment in the middle of the night when you’re asleep, marooning them in the mermaid’s lagoon or abandoning them in dwarven caves or elven woods. He taught them all how to fight and fly, but only James is able to match his skills and is the only one brave enough to defy him.

It went like this for a long time. James was tasked to rescue his brothers from Hope’s wrath, quietly organizing a resistance against him.

And then, one night, after you and Hope visited the faeries, James found you crying alone. When it came to your feelings, he knew he didn’t stand a chance against Hope. You liked him so much, you didn’t see anyone else. 

That night, he wanted to tell you that Hope wasn’t the only one who harbored feelings for you. He did as well.

But instead, he buried his truth. Instead, he told you, “Go home. And don’t come back.”

“Stop him!” Hook commands. Hope flies away from him – dodging the bullets and attacks from his men –  and goes straight to the captain’s quarters.

Had the doorknob been made of anything else, he’d burst through it. But like the hook on the captain’s hand, it’s made of iron. One touch would singe the faerie’s fingertips.

“I know you’re in there, darling. Come out. You can run from me, but you can’t hide forever,” he pleads from the other side of the door. “Joon, Jin, Yoon, Min, Tae, and Kook. This codfish wants to take them away from us. He wants to take our family.”

“How dare you call them your family after what you did to us!” Hook shouts.

Things got worse when it seemed like you were never coming back to Neverland.

Hope became angrier, more violent. Their numbers were being thinned out for stupid, nonsensical reasons. It was only a matter of time before there’d be no Lost Boys left.

One night, while Hope was away, James decided enough was enough and led most of the remaining Lost Boys out of the bunker. Rumors about the pirates and their vessel that could traverse between worlds had reached them. 

Either stay at the bunker, enslaved to be Hope’s playmates until he gets tired of them. Or join his enemies and become part of a pirate crew. The answer seemed obvious, but only a handful stayed. That handful is still alive, and still trapped with Hope now.

A guttural grunt from a boy in the back signaled that they’ve been caught. The boy falls as Hope pulls the knife from the body, and glares at the rest of them with an icy, angry expression.

Although they outnumbered him, and although they all knew how to fight, they still didn’t stand a chance. Hope was fast and merciless.

The ones that James called his brothers – ones he slept under the stars with, shared meals with, fought and bled for – Hope was killing them like they mean nothing to him.

James was a great swordsman. He fought off Hope the longest, his blue eyes seeing red as he tried to avenge his fallen comrades. But Hope managed to disarm him.

He grabbed his wrist and pinned it down on a rock. He holds his knife over it.

“What did you say to her, James?” he growls as the blade begins to pierce his skin. “Why won’t she come back?”

James screams in pain, but he glares up at Hope and snarls, “Because you’ll never truly love her! She deserves more than to be your pet!”

With a roar, Hope lifts the knife and stabs it through James’ wrist.

“Please, darling. Open the door and it will all be over,” Hope continues, his voice clear despite the attempts the pirates make to keep him away from you. “Forget these guys. Forget them all. The kids miss their mother. I miss you. Come back home.”

Three mistakes happen.

First, Hook, in his anger and frustration, demands, “Leave her alone!”

Second, the doorknob. You try to turn it – maybe to stop him, maybe to give in to him; either way, the command he has over you is still hard to resist – but whimper in pain as the iron burns your hand. You’re not entirely human anymore, after all.

Third, Hook and his crew broke a rule of the Fae. They lied to him.

When the pirates came across James, he was alone, sitting on the beach and cradling an amputated arm. It was a miracle and a curse that he hadn’t fallen with the other Lost Boys in those woods.

Another brotherhood was formed. James quickly proved his worth within the crew, taught himself to fight again with an iron hook as a weapon, and earned his way to becoming a captain. He even made a new name for himself. 

Hook.

After all he’s been through, and despite how much time has passed, James hasn’t forgotten that night. He hasn’t forgotten his brothers that died before his eyes, or the ones that were left behind. He made it his life mission to free them and avenge them all from Hope.

“So, she really is here…” Hope laughs again, his hand pressing against the door that bars you from him. But his laughter sends chills down Hook’s spine. 

The next moments happen too quickly.

Hope grabs the nearest crew member to him – Smee, his first mate – and holds him hostage with a knife to his throat. The others raise their guns, but are hesitant to shoot. They may hurt their comrade with the bullets instead of the fae prince.

Panic fills Hook’s eyes as the memories of that dreadful night – the anguished cries of young boys, the fear in their eyes as they tremble at the sight of Hope’s deadly shadow, the splatter of red mixing with the green grass – flood his mind. “Hope, you promised no one would get hurt. You gave me your word.”

“I always keep my word. I promised I would not harm a single hair on your crew’s head. And this is the one.” He plucks a grey hair on Smee’s head and flicks it toward Hook. “Here, you keep it. The rest of them are mine.”

Hope isn’t always good. But he isn’t always bad either.

When you’re around, Neverland is full of life. Flowers boom. The sun shines warmly. Animals and their young are spotted among the trees and meadows. It feels like spring and new beginnings as the two of you share your first kiss – an acorn for a thimble – with each other.

The longer you stay, the warmer it feels. The summer days feel longer as the sun shines brighter, giving you two more time to spend together: whether cooling off at the lagoon with the mermaids, cozying up by the glow of a bonfire with the elves, or hiking along the dwarven mountains with his hand holding yours. It’s a paradise for him. He never wants these types of days to end.

But when you start to feel a little homesick, everything begins to fall apart. Leaves change their colors and break off from their branches. Plants begin to shrivel, animals start to hide, and the skies become dull and grey. Hope holds you a little tighter as the world around him grows colder.

And when you’re gone, everything is cold and dead. Snow covers the ground and barren trees. Water freezes as the winds and storms howl. And Hope abandons everything as he lingers by your window, waiting for you to let him in and take you away again.

Some would say it’s the faerie prince that controls the seasons in Neverland. But really, it was you.

Nothing else would make his heart feel warmer than when you’d take his hand, ready to go on another big adventure with him. Nothing else could destroy him when you’re not by his side.

At the time, he didn’t have a word for it. This feeling that strikes a fire in his soul. This constant urge to hold your hand and keep you safe. To always hear the sound of your laughter, to see your flustered face when he compliments you, to have you take part in every quest, every meal, every song, every dance together. This fear that one day, you’ll leave him. One day, you’ll forget him. One day, you’ll no longer be his.

He didn’t have a word for it. But you did.

“I love you.”

Love.

Is that what this is?

You watch his reaction, but his words are caught in his throat. His heart hammers in his chest as he swallows.

“I don’t know what that is.”

Your brows furrow a bit, and you frown. You seem confused. “You must know. Don’t you feel the same way?”

He doesn’t get you. You ask him about make-believe. You tell him you want something more than just to have fun. And now you’re asking him about this?

He hates the changes. He hates when the air gets cold and the flowers begin to die. He hates that he can’t understand what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. He hates that you’re growing up without him and realizing things like love – things he needs to grow up to know the meaning of.

He hates that he ever let you return in the first place.

“I don’t want it,” he snarls. Love makes him feel sick. It drives him crazy. He feels like death when he’s not with you, and like he’s on fire when he is. “What’s it to you anyway? This love.”

He hates the way you look at him then. And the pained, quiet answer of, “To love would be the greatest adventure to me.”

Hope isn’t always bad. But he isn’t always good either.

An elaborate door, made of iron and wood, stands between you and the chaos outside. You can’t see through it, but you can hear the guttural cries and the snap of bones. You smell the metallic iron of blood spilled on the wooden deck. You fall back and kick yourself away from the door when you hear a loud thump and see a pool of blood seeping through the crack.

You hear yourself hyperventilating. Your eyes are wide and you’re frozen with fear. All your senses are heightened, and it makes you feel nauseous and overwhelmed.

Any second, Hobi could break through that barrier and snatch you.

You force yourself to stand. To move.

You don’t know what to do.

Panic rises as your feet take you to the captain’s desk. His notes from last night are still there, and you grab a piece of paper at the top of the stack. Grabbing a quilled pen, you quickly jot down names on the articles he’s found.

BANG. BANG BANG BANG BAG.

You bite back a scream as you duck under the desk. With trembling fingers, you rip around the six names you wrote: Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook.

A loud crash is followed by shattering glass.

He’s come through the window.

Even with your heightened senses, he moves so quietly. The floorboards barely creak as he slowly walks around the room. You can almost taste the heat of his anger. The scent of blood on his skin. You feel the intensity of his gaze as he searches for you.

Your heart hammers in your chest as a morbid realization dawns on you.

The chaos from outside has completely stilled. Only the ocean’s waters gently hitting the ship and the sound of your frantic heartbeat is all you hear.

Hook and his whole crew. They must be dead.

And it’s all your fault.

Eventually, he makes his way to you. “I’ve found you, darling.”

Your eyes slowly trail up to meet the Fae prince’s intimidating gaze. He peers down at you, brown eyes almost golden from the lighting. He’s covered in blood. Red paints his sun-kissed skin and the greens of his clothes, sticky and metallic. In one fluid motion, he grabs your arm and pulls you to your feet.

“Hobi…” you whimper, still trembling as he looks you over. “Why? He was your friend. He was one of us.”

You flinch when he brings his bloody hand to caress your cheek, You’re brought back to that party at the Fae Court. All those screams. All that blood.

“There’ll be another Hook. Another Smee. Another Lost Boy,” he simply says, as if their lives are disposable. As if he doesn’t care that they were all once people. “But you. Nothing in this world could replace you. One girl is worth more than twenty boys.”

His hand slips under your chin, lifting your face as he presses his lips against yours. The force of the kiss has you pinned against the desk. The small knobs of the drawers dig behind your back.

Without his medicine to placate you, you know you should push him away and get him off of you. To scream that you never want to see him again. Not after this. Not after everything he’s done.

But… his kiss is so warm. 

“Stop.” You pull away, not sure if you’re saying that to him or yourself.

Hobi chuckles against your temple. His hand slides to your stomach. “If you want, we can be a family for real. If that’s what you wish.”

You shiver at what he’s implying. The terrible thought of bearing his children makes you feel more trapped than you already are.

“Hobi…”

“Don’t you see?” he whispers against your ear, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I’ll give you anything you wish for. I’ll do everything to make you mine. You’re my light, my spring. I need you, darling.”

He kisses the spot just below your ear and trails his kisses down your neck. His heated touch traces familiar paths down your body, groping you lightly as his knee pushes your legs apart. Every fiber of your being feels the compulsion of his magic. When you kiss him, grabbing onto him needily, you taste his desire. It begs you to give in. To have him claim you as his.

“No!”

You push him. Your breath labored as your pulse throbs rapidly. That bit of humanity that’s left in you still fights to resist him. It reminds you of the horrors he’s done, and the blood he’s smearing on your skin and clothes. It has you imagining that blood belonging to one of the other boys – Joon, Jin, Yoon, Min, Tae, Kook – the next time they even look at you in a way that Hobi doesn’t like.

Your eyes meet his, expecting him to be angry or upset by your reaction. Instead, he tilts his head and smirks, looking rather amused by your turmoil.

“I love you, darling.”

Love.

Is that what he thinks this is?

You don’t resist as Hobi scoops up your legs and carries you bridal-style out the window. You don’t argue when he smiles at you brightly, red still splattered on his face against the afternoon sun, as he says he’s taking you home.

You’ve given up trying to escape from this hell yourself.

But you clutch the paper with a list of six names tightly in your fist.

“Why are you crying?”

Caught, you hastily wipe your tears. “Go away, James.”

But the young boy remains only a few meters from you, torn between reaching out to comfort you or giving you space. He doesn’t know what happened between you and Hope, but surely, it must be that damn faerie’s fault that you’re so upset.

“What happened?” he asks, deciding to stay and comfort you. His small hand soothes your back, but the gesture only makes you cry harder.

“I want to go home!” you sob, curling into yourself. Hobi would normally take you back to your world when you say his name and ask, but you refuse to ask for his help this time. Not after he just took your confession and threw it back in your face. “I never want to come back here!”

“Never is an awfully long time,” James sadly reminds you. He likes you, and he cares about you. Even if your heart belongs to someone else. But even he can see that you don’t belong here. “But… maybe that’s for the best.”

You lift your head, teary eyes looking at him. “What?”

“We’ll never grow and never change while we’re here, but you can. Neverland is a paradise of lies, and you don’t need to stay here and pretend anymore. Growing up, experiencing all that life has to offer, sounds like an amazing adventure.”

His words sink in, repeating them in your head over and over.

Hobi can’t love you because he can’t grow up – he can’t change. He’ll only pretend he understands what it means, and play the part to make you happy like it’s a game. Maybe when you’re older, you’ll mean something more to him. Maybe, because you’ve become older, he’ll just forget you.

Even if you know you’ll always remember him.

“You’re right, James,” you finally say, your heart aching at the thought of never seeing him and the other boys again. “Goodbye.”

“Go home,” he tells you, eyes watering as well. “And don’t come back.”

Later, you call Hope to take you back home. It’s a quiet and sad journey. You don’t say much, even if he seems to think you’ll get over the fight the next time you hang out with him.

He takes you to the window of the nursery. Only hours have passed since you left this world, but you’ve been in Neverland for a while. Your brothers are still asleep in their beds as you climb inside as quietly as you can.

Hobi lingers as he always does, quietly waiting until you tuck yourself in bed, thinking that him and all the adventures you just had are just dreams and nothing more. But you stay, looking around the nursery thoughtfully and then turning to face him.

Without a word, you reach out and gently brush your lips against the faerie prince.

“What’s this?” he softly asks.

A goodbye, you think.

“A thimble,” you answer.

A shared and shy smile breaks the tension. A secret meaning between the two of you.

This part is always hard for Hobi, but tonight, it feels different. Sadder.

“Will I see you again?” he asks hesitantly. Afraid of what your answer will be.

“I don’t know.”

A silence follows. It’s neither a yes or no, but, perhaps, there’s still hope.

“Is it because you’re still mad at me?” he asks. “If it’s love that you want, I’ll give it all to you. Whatever that looks like. Whatever that means. I’ll give you anything your heart desires. All I want is for you to be happy with me.”

“I am happy with you, Hobi.”

But it’s not enough. Not for you.

Hobi, however, smiles at you with his achingly beautiful, bright smile.

“You know that place between sleep and awake? The place where you still remember dreaming?” he asks you, as he does every time the two of you part. “That’s where I’ll be waiting.”

That’s where I’ll always love you.

“I know,” you reply back, and already, you yearn to be with him again. To forget all your troubles, worries, and responsibilities and live happily with him.

But you can’t. You know you can’t.

You’re ready to grow up.

“Goodnight, darling.”

“Goodnight, Jung Hoseok.”

Your eyes fly open. You remember that dream – no, that memory – so vividly.

Jung Hoseok. His real name is Jung Hoseok.

Since he brought you back, he’s attached himself to you like a shadow. You can’t eat, breathe, or think without him around. He pulls you to his lap during meals, joins you for baths, and climbs into your bed at night. 

Whenever he needs to leave the bunker, he takes you with him, holding your hand like a chained leash and refusing to let you stray from his side. And you try not to shudder each time he gently touches you – on your inner thigh when you sit next to him, around your waist when he holds you, cupping your face when he wants you to kiss him – knowing those same hands murdered his old comrades in cold blood.

Fighting him scares you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking as you feel the intensity of his gaze, the way he tilts his head as he quietly observes you.

But giving in feels just as terrifying.

The lost boys look like they’ve been through a lot trying to find you while you were with the pirates. Not only did they all seem exhausted and stiff with pain, but you noticed the bruises on Yoon, the cut on Min’s lip, and how Kook’s nose was swollen and bloody. You see the fear in their eyes when the faerie prince cheerfully announces your return.

He’s hurting them. 

Guilt weighs heavily upon you when you realize he’s been taking out his anger and frustration out on them because you were gone. As if it was any of their fault. 

Their relief of knowing you’re unharmed – and the pity in their eyes when they realize you didn’t escape Neverland after all – while they were hurt makes you feel worse.

He would never hurt you. But nothing would stop him from harming them.

Hobi – no, Hoseok – enters your room. You sit up and watch him with guarded eyes as he sits on your bed. He smells of citrus and wood, and there’s a subtle glow about him that makes the room feel too small, that commands attention to his presence.

“You’re not eating enough,” he states, offering you a piece of fruit. A pomegranate, just like the one that trapped you here.

“I’m not hungry,” you reply, pushing the fruit away. You flinch when he takes out his knife, but he only uses it to cut it open for you.

“Our wedding is coming up,” he reminds you. “It won’t be just make-believe anymore.”

Dread twists your stomach. “I know.”

“And will I have your consent?”

You glare at him. “No.”

He frowns at your answer. The pomegranate sharply snaps as he breaks it into pieces. “Is it so terrible to be with me?”

“Yes.” You can’t lie to him. The words get caught in your throat, even if you try.

“Why? Haven’t I done enough to prove that I love you?” he demands, his voice rising as his eyes flash with a dangerous anger. Juice from the red fruit stains his hands, dripping like blood. “All I want is for you to be happy with me, yet you keep running away to that place that forever bars me from you – the one joy I want. You don’t belong there anymore, darling. You’re meant to be here, with me.”

“What if I don’t want to be with you?”

“Where would you go?” he questions, tilting his head and looking down at you in a way that intimidates you. “Do you remember who your parents are? Your brothers? Your grandmother?”

Your heart stills as the answer falls on you.

“No…”

You can only draw blank faces in your mind. You remember nothing about your family.

Forget them, darling. Forget them all. Come with me, and you’ll never have to worry about a thing again.

“Be mine, darling. Marry me, and we can make this world ours. We’ll have so much fun, you and I. Every day could be our own adventure. We can live happily ever after like in your stories,” he continues as you turn away from him. “Don’t you want that? I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you. I’ll give you anything your heart desires, as long as you consent to be my wife.”

“Anything?” you repeat, still keeping your gaze to the wall. 

“Mmhm, anything,” he confirms, seemingly ready to make a deal with you. “As long as you’ll have me. As long as you’ll always love me, as I love you.”

You finally look at him. “This isn’t love, Hobi.”

A silence follows. But he gives you the pomegranate. The small seeds and red juice spills onto your own hands.

“It doesn’t matter. This wedding is going to happen either way,” Hosoek decides, leaning close to whisper in your ear. “In a few days, you won’t have a choice. I will get your consent, darling. Now eat.”

A faerie’s word is binding. That’s what makes them particularly dangerous creatures.

If you catch the attention of mischievous faeries, they may strike a bargain with you. Worldly possessions that are worthless to them, but are priceless to you. A particular talent for a chance of fame. Success in a goal you’ve been wanting to obtain.

A dreamlike paradise you’d run away to, where you’d never have to worry or grow up – where you could be with him forever.

In exchange, the faerie will ask for something in return.

The memory of a first kiss. 

He already has this. An acorn and a thimble. Your first real kiss belongs to him.

A moment of your time. 

Time works so differently in Neverland. A moment could just be a second to you, but could mean much longer to him.

Your firstborn child.

That’s how you ended up here. Your grandmother promised you to him.

Names have power to the Fae. Giving it to them binds you to them magically, allows them to track you no matter how far you try to run from them, and surrenders you to their influence over your thoughts and actions.

It’s suffocating when he’s around. Like the sun that shines too bright. His presence is overpowering. His touch ignites a fire that burns your soul and scorches your skin. You feel the heat of his gaze whenever he looks at you.

But his absence is more unbearable at times. Quiet, dark, and cold  Sometimes, you think of letting your resistance melt away when the burdening sadness and loneliness gets the best of you. Sometimes, just the thought of giving up scares you the most.

However, you remember his name now. You have power over him, too.

But don’t lie to the Fae.

You shudder at the thought of what happened to Hook and his crew.

Don’t accept their gifts and favors.

The medicine. That awful, sticky, sweet faerie wine that changed you.

If a contract between a faerie and mortal has been made, the debt must be seen to the end. The abundance of wealth, then robbed blind by greedy hearts and thieves. The cost of fame is priced with the constant cycle of invasiveness, control, and backlash. The peak of success, and then never achieving another result close to it again, failing in all other endeavours and pursuits.

Unless, of course, something of equal value is exchanged.

For your grandmother, who wanted to live happily with her husband and children after breaking her contract, the faeries wanted the firstborn of the kin they couldn’t have.

For the Lost Boys, to come and live in Neverland, they each exchanged their name – granting their servitude, loyalty, and obedience throughout their endless youth. 

Even the faerie prince, who only wants you to be happy with him, allows you to return to your world whenever you call upon his name and wish for it.

Your time is running out. All of Neverland is preparing for your wedding with the faerie prince, and the possibility that he might hurt one of the Lost Boys makes you uneasy.

“What are you doing, darling?” Hoseok asks, only a few meters from you, casually leaning against the wall.

You ignore him, focused on your task.

One by one, you sort through pieces of wood circles from the old treasure chest. The boys are gathered around you, too, curious about what you’re doing.

Two piles are laid out before you: one matches the six initials to the names you’ve memorized, and the other one doesn’t.

For a brief moment, you pause when one of the last ones you pick up simply says “James.” And with a hard swallow, you place it with the bigger pile – the names of the Lost Boys who didn’t make it. You won’t let Hook’s efforts fall in vain.

“What’s all this, Mother?” Tae asks.

Hoseok watches as you put the bigger pile back in the treasure chest and bring the six that you selected to him. A smirk tugs on his lips when you finally meet his gaze.

“You said you’d give me anything my heart desires,” you remind him, gesturing at the wooden rounds in your arms. “My heart desires these.”

“Really?” he asks, picking one up and pretending to examine it. “A piece of wood with someone’s initials on it?”

“We both know they’re more than that, Hoseok.”

“Clever girl,” he states, genuinely impressed. “You remember it.”

His true name.

“I will consent to marry you in exchange for all six of these,” you tell him almost reluctantly. There is no bigger contract for a faerie than a marriage. “Our deal we made when we were kids still stands. You’ll allow me to visit them every now and then. Just to make sure that they adjust well. That they’re being taken care of and are doing okay.”

“Mother,” Jin interrupts. All of them have mixed reactions as they try to piece together your conversation with the faerie prince. “What are you talking about?”

But the faerie’s eyes are glowing in a way they’ve never seen before. And you’re not answering them, refusing to break eye contact with the creature in front of you.

Hoseok laughs. You’ve made it too easy for him.

“I’m feeling generous, so I accept your offer, darling,” he tells you, stepping forward and closing the gap between you two. “But just know, even if you leave Neverland, you will always belong to me. You’ll always yearn for me, even if we’re worlds apart. You’ll think about me all the time, in restless nights and waking hours. Your body will be there, but your heart will remain here – with me.”

You’ll never leave him. You’ll never want to.

That’s your price to pay.

“I accept.” The words spill out of your mouth before you have a chance to regret it.

The deal is sealed when Hoseok kisses you, stealing your breath away. Immediately, you feel the yearning. You taste the desire. Magic binds you to him as you exchange what’s left of your freedom for theirs.

When you open your eyes, Hoseok is gone.

“What kind of deal did you make with him, Mother?” Min demands to know. The rest of the boys look at you with a mix of horror and confusion.

“These are yours,” you finally reveal, handing each of them a wooden disc with their initials. “An old friend spent a long time searching for a way to set you free.”

The boys look at it blankly. It’s been so long since they’ve carved their initials on it, they’ve forgotten what it means to them – what it really is.

You take out the small stash of pixie dust the elven sage had given you, and lightly coat the disc with a small pinch. Their true name falls from your lips, and you watch the look on each of their faces as something they once lost is returned, and something that was long forgotten is remembered.

“Kim Namjoon,” Joon repeats, testing the way the name sounds. “That’s my name.”

“I’m Kim Seokjin,” Jin follows. His eyes read the carved initials over and over as the memories that are tied to that name come back.

“Min Yoongi.” Yoon says his own name like he can’t believe it’s his again.

“Park Jimin,” Min whispers, looking over at his friend.

“Kim Taehyung,” he replies, looking back at him.

“My name is Jeon Jungkook,” the last of the six states, eyes watering with emotion.

Those little wooden pieces that each boy carved their initials on is more than just a forgotten treasure they’ve been keeping in an old chest  – it’s their contracts as Lost Boys.

They have their names back, and with it, their identities – their freedom.

“Go to the pirate ship. It’ll take you away from here,” you tell them, handing them the remaining stash of pixie dust and hugging each of them goodbye. There’s a sad smile on your face as you add, “Don’t worry. He won’t stop you. He has no power over any of you anymore.”

When you open your eyes, you find yourself in a familiar room. Old furniture from your childhood, with chipped paint and ruined corners, have been rearranged. The stuffed toys are dusty on the shelves, including your little brother’s teddy bear that he used to always carry with him. Thin curtains blow with the breeze from the opened window of the nursery you’re in.

“I told you not to open that,” your grandmother’s gravelly voice scolds. She struggles to pull down the window on her own. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“Sorry, Nana.” You stand up to help her. As the window shuts, you feel the strange urge to open it again. He can’t come in if it isn’t open.

“Is something wrong?” she asks, drawing you from your thoughts. For a long moment, she gives you a peculiar look, as if she’s noticed something different about you that she can’t quite place.

“No.” You feel a sting in your mouth from the lie. “I’ve just… had a strange dream.”

Later that day, you’re coming back from the nearby market. You’ve just gone to grab a few things for tonight's dinner and decided to cut through the park on your way home.

All day, you’ve been feeling off. 

Like something is missing. Like you’re forgetting something important.

The dreams you’ve been having – they’ve also been so vivid. Visions of pirates, mermaids, dwarves, and elves linger in your head all day like memories rather than fantasy. Things you haven’t thought about since you were a kid have been coming back to you lately as nostalgia greets you like an old friend.

Nearby, you see a group of guys playing basketball. The six of them are divided into groups of three, shouting and cheering when someone in their team scores a point. You smile to yourself as you pause to watch them, captivated by their loud laughter and rowdiness.

They’re like a bunch of kids. Yet, your heart feels warm with a strange thought. Like a mother quietly looking over her own children.

Subconsciously, you twist the band around your finger as you sit on a bench and watch the game. It’s made of gold and silver, delicately carved to look like twigs, leaves, and acorns as beautiful gems are embedded within the design. It’s been on your finger since you woke up that morning, but you don’t remember where it came from.

Although it could easily be mistaken as a wedding ring, you don’t want to take it off your finger anyway.

From your peripheral vision, you also see them.

Faeries.

The tiny winged creatures bow and curtsy whenever you make eye contact with them, following you around since you’ve left the cottage. Perhaps it’s their way of saying hello, but you know better than to interact. They seem to flock you wherever you go, strangely visible to your eye when they’re not supposed to.

You take this as your cue to leave before you draw an unwanted audience with them.

There are five rules that your grandmother had taught you. Five rules that she made you follow the moment you started to see them as a child. THey’re meant to keep you safe – to protect you if you ever find the misfortune of becoming their target.

Rule #1: Do not draw the attention of mischievous faeries.

They’re everywhere.

In shapes of unsuspecting animals, as haunting wisps in the nearby woods, as the tiny winged creatures you saw earlier. But sometimes, the Fae appears to you in a strange form. Human. Visible.

Only those high in the Fae Court can do that, like kings and queens.

One of them stands by the old iron gate that leads up to your grandmother’s cottage.

Rule #2: Do not tell them your name.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. What’s your name?”

THe faerie before you is handsome, but oddly familiar. You feel like you’ve seen him before in your dreams. The recognition makes your heart stir with a strange longing, fond of the things you can’t quite remember.

He greets you below the hill of your grandmother’s cottage, shuffling behind an old brown and white shih tzu wearing a onesie and a leash. THe dog, you realize, isn’t a faerie, but an excuse to poke around where he shouldn’t.

Whatever reason a faerie of his rank is doing here – just outside your grandmother’s cottage – can’t be good.

“Shouldn’t you tell me your name first?” you counter, cautious.

The faerie smirks. “Hope.”

Rule #3: Do not lie to them.

“Well, Hope,” you start, and for a brief second, you wonder if that’s even his real name. “What business do you have with my grandmother?”

“Who?”

“This path leads to her cottage,” you explain, nodding to the house that’s closed off from the rest of the town. Places like the park, market, and town center are in the opposite direction. “Is there a reason why you’re here?”

“You caught me.” He holds his hands up in defense. The band around his ring finger looks similar to yours, as if part of a matching set. His lips are shaped like a heart when he smiles at you. “I heard one of the old lady’s grandchildren came to town. I just didn’t expect them to look like you.”

Word travels fast in the Fae world. It couldn’t have been that long since your brother dropped you off to live with your grandmother, and already, the higher-ups in the Fae Court know of your arrival.

You cross your arms. “Disappointed?”

He laughs.

Something stirs inside your heart, like a magic spell has been cast upon you by the sound of it. But you firmly remind yourself of what you’re dealing with. He’s a faerie, and he’s dangerous.

“Not at all,” he replies smoothly with a flirty smile. “I knew she had a granddaughter. You’re just prettier than I imagined.”

Rule #4: Do not accept gifts, food, or favors from the Fae.

A thank you sits on your tongue, almost forming into words that you would’ve said outloud, but you catch yourself. Faeries, from what you understand, don’t take kindly to meaningless words of thanks. Even if you intend to be polite.

You can’t imagine falling into debt with a creature like him. Not after all the horror stories your grandmother warned you about.

You start to feel uneasy with how effortless it is for Hope to charm you. To make you almost forget the very rules that have been embedded in your mind for years.

It feels like he’s just toying with you. That this is all a game for him.

“Well, you’ve met me,” you state indifferently, but still puzzled about him. What does he want? Why is he here? Who is he to you? “I should get going.”

“You’re ready to go home?” he asks, eyeing you from head to toe. His eyes linger on the acorn necklace you always wear around your neck. “I can take you back if you are.”

It’s such an odd question to ask. “I’m already home.”

You hope the conversation ends there. With that said, you give him a small, polite nod and walk around him and his little dog. You feel his eyes on you the entire time, watching you carefully and curiously.

“You know,” he starts again before you could travel too far. Part of you tells yourself to ignore him, pretend you didn’t hear him. But you’re already looking over your shoulder and meeting his gaze. “You still haven’t told me your name.”

Rule #5: If you ever find yourself in their debt, you must give something of equal value in return. Only then will your debt be repaid.

“I’ll only tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

The faerie stares at you for a long moment, as if he isn’t sure what to make of you just yet. And honestly, you’re not sure what you think about him either.

There’s something beyond his good looks and charming smile that draws you to him. Like meeting him has offered a missing piece to something you’ve lost. Something you’ve forgotten.

You expect him to drop it. To insist that Hope is truly his name, and that you’re being silly for accusing him otherwise.

“Jung Hoseok. That’s my name,” he reveals. “When you’re ready to go home, call out to me and I’ll be there. Like always.”

His words are confusing, but your gaze briefly shifts toward the nursery window. You’re compelled to open it again, even though your grandmother says you shouldn’t.

“I will,” you softly reply. The words come out of your mouth, even if it doesn’t make sense to you yet.

Hoseok steps closer to you. Close enough, you could smell the notes of citrus and wood in his cologne, mixed with the sunshine,

You should step back. Push him away. Do something.

But you don’t.

He cups your face with his hand, and you can’t help but notice how warm his touch is. The ring on his finger definitely matches yours, and around his wrist, he fashioned a child-sized thimble into a pendant of a bracelet.

“Don’t make me wait too long, darling,” Hoseok whispers against your ear. “This game is fun, but I’m starting to really miss you.”

“What do you mean?”

Rather than answering, he kisses the corner of your lips. The gesture makes your heart yearn for him even more.

“I’ll see you around, darling.”

And for some reason, it feels like he means it as a promise rather than a goodbye.

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

Truth is, you have been keeping your distance from Jimin for a week, crafting excuses to miss lunch and dodging every opportunity to engage in conversation with him. It's not like he hasn't tried, but each time you've found a way to brush him off with stilted responses and averted eyes.

You could tell every rejection was getting to him more than the previous - his once blinding smile dimmed each time you turned away, and a small part of you ached whenever a flicker of confusion and disappointment passed over his expression. 

Yesterday, just as the days before, you had turned him away with a poor excuse as to why you couldn't accept the coffee he had bought you. As Jimin had walked back to his desk, you could see his wings droop, his precious tail-end feathers dragging across the dirty floor.

You had felt a sense of guilt then – you were only doing this to protect yourself, but somehow, it felt like you were tearing him down in the process. The guilt was fleeting however, gone just as quickly as it arrived when you remembered the conversation you had overheard. 

You simply couldn't shake the hurt of what you heard him say. It replayed on your mind constantly, twisting the knife in your gut deeper with each time. You missed the sound of his laughter and the playful banter that once flowed so easily between you. Everything that was left now was just awkward silence that made you feel vulnerable and exposed. You hated how much it affected you, how exhausting it was to ignore him. One night, you had even found yourself wishing that maybe you had just heard wrong, that you had simply misinterpreted what you thought you heard and that Jimin actually felt the same way. But you were too scared to find out, too scared to reopen a wound that hadn't even had time to close in the first place. It was just easier to keep him at a distance, to push him away before he could do more damage. 

Sighing, you rub the sides of your head, irked by the headache you can feel building up. 

Despite your better judgement, you find yourself casting wry glances toward the small meeting room you had shared with the bird hybrid. Jimin has been working there all morning, only stepping outside to refill his coffee. It's funny how welcoming that room felt only a few days ago, but now you never want to step foot in it ever again - especially not if he's in it. 

"Hey, are you okay? You've been really quiet lately," Jungkook pushes his chair closer to your desk, concern etched on his face.

"Yeah, just tired," You wave him off, averting your eyes back to your screen.

"Tired my ass," Jungkook huffs. "Is it because of–"

"Jungkook," You interrupt, your voice sharper than intended. "Just drop it, okay? I don't want to talk about it right now."

You can feel Jungkook's gaze boring into the side of your face, scrutinizing you. After a few seconds pass, you can hear the pout in his voice as he says, "Alright, but you know I'm here if you need to talk."

"I know. Thank you."

You sigh inwardly, the feeling of guilt that's been rooted in your stomach for the past week only growing heavier as you glance to the side and see Jungkook frowning at his screen. It wasn't his fault; he was just trying to help. But you're not ready to talk about Jimin – not yet. 

Jimin lasts exactly eight days before he approaches your desk, frustration etched across his handsome features as he taps the wood to get your attention. 

"Y/n," He says, a tinge of vulnerability underneath the firmness in his voice, "Can we talk?"

Glancing up, you meet his piercing violet gaze, and feel a familiar pang of guilt. But your instincts tell you to stand your ground and you cross your arms defensively as you reply, "What's there to talk about?"

Jimin's eyes flicker across the room, no doubt seeing the curious eyes of your coworkers staring right back at him. The bird hybrid's voice is just a touch softer as he says, "Please, just give me five minutes. Out in the hall."

You're sure nothing good will come of this, but the morbidly curious part of you just needs to know what Jimin wants to tell you. 

"Fine. Lead the way."

You follow Jimin out of the office, all the way down the hall to the fire escape. It's far enough that no one will be able to overhear you.

Jimin's wings shift as he turns around, feathers ruffling with frustration as he drags a hand through his hair. "Can you please tell me why you've been avoiding me? I don't understand what happened." His voice trembles slightly, betraying the confidence he normally exudes.

The question hangs in the air like a challenge, one that you're entirely unprepared to face.

"You know why," You snap. 

Jimin's expression shifts as he processes your response, his eyes screwing shut momentarily, as if to block out the anger and hurt laced in your tone. 

An embarrassed pink flush eventually spreads up his neck. "You figured out that I like you and you don't feel the same way. I get it now, I'm sorry."

"What?" You whisper, your mind blank, struggling to comprehend the confession that just slipped from his lips. "What did you say?"

"I like you, Y/n." Jimin repeats, his eyes timid as he dares to meet yours, the sincerity in his gaze making your heart ache. In that moment, you couldn't help but think back on all the sweet gestures Jimin had done for you, how attentive and kind he had been as you worked on your project. But–

Your breath catches in your throat, a mixture of surprise and disbelief washing over you. "Oh, you like me now? Just a few days ago, you were saying I wasn't right for you." The accusation drips from your lips, heavy with the hurt you've been trying to suppress. 

"What, how did you–" He stammers, clearly taken aback by your reaction, his confusion only making your heart ache more. 

"Does it matter?" 

He takes a step forward, the hand that was reaching out for yours freezing midair as you pull back.

"Of course it does! You didn't hear everything, Y/n, you misunderstood–" Jimin tries to explain, desperation creeping into his voice. 

"What's there to misunderstand? I heard you Jimin. Not to mention that you've been flirting with every other employee while I've had to watch. How.." You swallow thickly, "How can I take your feelings seriously?"

Jimin's expression crumbles, the bitter truth hanging heavy in the air between you. His voice trembles, "You think I'm just a flirt? That's all you see me as?" 

No.

You know Jimin is way more than that, so why can't you seem to find the words to deny it? 

Before you can muster up an apology, Jimin turns on his heel and storms off, leaving you alone to stew in your hurt. The empty, cold silence left behind feels suffocating, the unsaid words on your tongue heavy and bitter. Regret settles in as the echo of Jimin's footsteps die out. In your attempt to shield yourself from more pain, you had inflicted it on someone else.

You lean against the wall behind you, blinking away the stinging sensation in your eyes. You don't know what's wrong with you. He said it himself that you had gotten it all wrong, that he likes you – so why can't you take his word for it? Jimin has never proved himself to be untrustworthy before. A flirt yes, but never one to intentionally go out his way to hurt you. 

"Fuck," You mutter, rubbing your eyes.

You can't shake the feeling that you just made the biggest mistake of your life. 

The weekend gave you ample time to ponder, to mull over your harsh words. The feeling of regret grew heavier as you replayed the conversation over and over in your mind. You wished you could take it all back, that you would have handled it differently. You know you blew it out of proportion. You were right to feel hurt about what you thought you heard, but you really should've tried to listen to what he was trying to tell you. But you let the moment pass, and all you were left with was a weekend filled with a gnawing sense of guilt. 

Come Monday, you had resolved to apologize. Maybe you didn't fully understand your feelings, but pushing Jimin away like that felt like a mistake. With that in mind, you decided to take a few hours off work in the morning, determined to find a proper gift you could use to apologize to Jimin. 

As you walked slowly down main street, peering into the shops you passed, it didn't take too long before something caught your eye. A bracelet. A simple silver bracelet faceted with a gemstone. You would have considered it plain if it wasn't for how the sunlight caught the stone, a kaleidoscope of deep blues sparkling across the display. The same deep hue as Jimin's wings and hair.

"Perfect," You breathed. 

A little while later – with a hole in your bank account and the bracelet safely tucked inside your pocket – you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come. Your heart is racing with a mixture of excitement and trepidation as you approach Jimin's desk. Your palm grows clammy as you rehearse the words you wanted to say to him one final time. You really didn't want to mess this up again.

"Hey, Jimin," You softly say. The bird hybrid looks up from his computer screen, the surprise that flickers across his face quickly dampened by worry.

You shakily pull out the box from your pocket, presenting it to him shyly. "I wanted to give you something. I had some time to think over the weekend and I'm really sorry for how I acted before. I shouldn't have pushed you away like that. And I didn't mean the things I said. I'm just.. really sorry." 

You keep your voice low as you ramble, clasping your hands awkwardly together as you watch Jimin unbox your gift. The bird hybrid's violet eyes grow large as he sees the bracelet, his cheeks turning flaming red. He gently caresses the blue gemstone as his feathers rustle behind his back. 

"I... I'll have to think about it," Jimin stammers, flustered. 

You don't let the dejection show on your face. You did expect that Jimin would need some time to think too - to decide if he wants to accept your apology or not. 

"Of course," You give him a weak smile, "Take all the time you need."

You feel like you're ready to burst by the time lunch rolls around, jittery energy coursing through your veins as you hurry down to the cafeteria. You know there's one person you can count on to give it to you straight, one that has a bit more special insight than most. Luckily he's not hard to locate, not with his antlers being visible from the other side of the room. 

"Hey, Hoseok, mind if I join you?" You try to keep your voice light as you approach his table, but you know he doesn't buy it. 

The deer hybrid simply gives you a once over, his kind eyes narrowing immediately as he says, "Sit. What's wrong?"

You slump down onto the seat across from him, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. "I need your advice on something, or well, someone. Jimin."

Hoseok's expression shifts, his curiosity piqued. You're aware that he knows something went down between you and the bird hybrid, that the reason you suddenly stopped coming down for lunch was to avoid him.

Hoseok gently clears his throat, placing his fork down on this plate as he tries to act nonchalant,  "What about him? Is everything okay?"

You place your head in your hands with a groan, hesitating as you weigh your words. "I guess it's complicated? There was a misunderstanding, and I reacted badly. I didn't want to get hurt, but I ended up hurting him instead."

"Let me guess, he confessed that he likes you?" 

Your gaze snaps up, bewildered at how quickly Hoseok has caught on. "Did he tell you?"

The deer hybrid shakes his head, "He didn't have to. It was obvious to every hybrid in this building that he was trying to court you." 

"What do you mean?" You ask, a flush creeping up your cheeks as embarrassment mingles with surprise. How could you not have noticed?

Hoseok leans forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Y/n, hybrids have their own ways of expressing interest. Jimin has been showing off–" Hoseok rolls his eyes, "– quite desperately, might I add, trying to impress you with his charm and desirability. It's part of his nature. He was trying to court you, even if you didn't see it."

You feel your heart race at the confirmation. "But I didn't know.. Why didn't he just tell me?"

"He didn't say it straight out because that's not how it works for us. I get that it's confusing, you wouldn't naturally pick up on his courting like other hybrids would, but he has tried really, really hard to show you that he was interested."

Hoseok gives you a wry smile.  "Obviously it hasn't worked that well, so maybe if you talk to him about it, you know, clear the air? Maybe that will set things straight and let you know where you both stand in this."

"Well, I did apologize?" 

"You did?" Hoseok blinks. "When?"

"Earlier today. I felt like a simple apology wouldn't be enough, so I sort of .. got him a gift." 

Hoseok stills for a moment, staring at you with such big eyes that he looks like the true definition of a deer in headlights. "You got him a courting gift?" 

"No!" You hiss. "It was an apology gift, that's all–" 

You suddenly freeze as you remember how shocked Jimin had looked, how flustered he had been to accept your gift. "Oh my god, did I give him a courting gift?"

"Y/n!" Hoseok groans, shaking his head in disbelief. The ears on his head twitch in every direction, reflecting the myriad of thoughts he's trying to sort through at once. 

The deer hybrid eventually drags a hand down his face, his gaze more serious than you've ever seen before as he says, "You need to talk to him. If you really do want to accept his courting then I guess you've done yourself a favor, but if not– then you need to speak with him right away. Don't... don't get his hopes up, Y/n. He can be a brat but he doesn't deserve that kind of heartbreak." 

"I will, I mean, I won't! I–" You fumble over your words, too flustered to properly function.

"Courting is just like dating, alright?" Hoseok cracks a smile at your antsy state. "You got this. Just go talk to him." 

"Okay!" You shoot up from the table, almost tripping over your own feet. You grimace at Hoseok's snort, "I mean.. Yeah, I can do that." 

You don't hear the deer hybrid's reply, your feet already carrying you across the cafeteria. You have no idea where Jimin might be right now, but starting with his desk is probably the right idea. And if he's not there, well, it'll give you some time to definitely not hyperventilate in the bathroom. 

You let out a shuddering breath as the elevator door opens with a soft chime, your heart racing as you step out. Your feet carry you with such urgency that you end up cutting the corner a little too much, the sharp turn sending you stumbling right into someone. You feel warm hands wrap around your arms, steadying your balance so that you don't go crashing to the ground. 

"Sorry, I–" The words die on the tip of your tongue as you glance up and find Jimin staring back at you. There's a concerned furrow between his brows, his eyes sweeping you up and down to make sure you're okay. 

"I'm alright," You blurt, finding yourself growing a little squirmish under Jimin's attentive gaze. "I actually wanted to, well, um, you see.." 

"I accept."

"Accept?" You ask, blinded by the brilliant smile that Jimin gives you. 

"Yes. I didn't expect you to be so straightforward considering you've turned down all of my attempts at wooing you the human way so far, but I could really feel your sincerity with your courting gift." 

You blink. "How? I mean, when, did you attempt to woo me?" 

Jimin's smile grows a little sheepish. "I did try to ask you out for lunch. Many times."

"Wait-" You shake your head, "those were supposed to be dates?"

"Of course! Why did you think I was so persistent in asking you out to eat if I didn't like you?" He replies, a hint of hurt creeping into his voice.

Your racing heart comes to a near stop, your mouth suddenly dry as dust as it hits you just how wrong you have been about him. The words taste like chalk as you force them out,  "I figured you wanted to gloat, maybe rub it in my face a little that I only got into the project because of you."

You feel sick as Jimin's face visibly falls at your explanation. You honestly think the guilt might eat you alive as he weakly says, 

"You've had a very low opinion of me this entire time, haven't you?"

"I'm sorry," You whisper.

There's no point in denying it. You've spent the past months believing that Jimin had some kind of vendetta against you – that he could just charm his way to anything he wanted. That he was just toying with you. 

Jimin gently releases your arms as he uses one hand to run through his hair, leaving it a dark blue mess. "I just–" The confusion is palpable in his voice as he asks, "I know we didn't get off on the right foot last year, I was trying too hard to prove myself and it just came off as me being an asshole. But there has to be something else, right? Or did I leave that bad of a first impression?"

"Ah," You trail off, biting your lip. It all sounds stupid now that you know, but then again, it's not like courting rituals is something you're involved with often (or ever, in fact). 

As you actively try to avoid Jimin's eyes, you find that you seem to have drawn a small crowd. You recognize a few of your coworkers lingering just by the door to the office floor, and you think there might be some from Jimin's old department too. They don't even try to hide their staring as they converse with fervent whispers.

Jimin, sensing your discomfort, suddenly extends his wings with a swoosh. The movement is so abrupt that the nearest onlooker actually stumbles backwards, sending the papers in their hands flying. Jimin clicks his tongue, displeased, before shifting them to wrap around you, cocooning you both off from the rest of the corridor. 

You let out a small gasp as you're engulfed by midnight blue feathers, the sounds outside slightly dampened by his wings. You find that you can't look at anything else but Jimin, his violet eyes taking on an inhuman shine in the low light. 

"Y/n?" Jimin prompts gently.

"It wasn't just the emails," You admit. "It always felt like.. whenever I tried to do something, you were already one step ahead. Like you were always one-upping me. And then you were constantly flirting with everyone, and I just figured–" You cut yourself off with a laugh, small and self-deprecating. "I thought you were messing with me. Or trying to make me look stupid. Even when you said you liked me, I felt like I couldn't trust it."

Jimin shakes his head, embarrassment palpable in his voice as he desperately tries to explain, "Bird hybrids have these.. instincts? Everything I did was my way of trying to prove myself as an attractive and capable mate."

Jimin's wings twitch slightly as he rubs the back of his neck. "When I brought you coffee, I was trying to show that I could provide. When I was showing off and attempting to seem desirable–" Your lips quirk at how hard Jimin tries to avoid the F word, "–I wanted you to know that I was the best well, uh, specimen around. And when I complimented your friends, I thought it would reflect well on me." 

There's something sad and vulnerable in his voice as he says, "I was never trying to compete with you. I only wanted you to notice me."

"I'm sorry," You say, and you mean it. "I didn't know."

In the near darkness, you let your hand seek out Jimin's, your fingers tentatively brushing over his knuckles. He lets out a soft breath at the touch, unfurling his fingers to let them tangle with yours. 

His violet eyes soften as he hesitates, then adds, "And maybe I couldn't help but annoy you just a little bit. You look really cute when you pull that irritated pout."

"I do not do that!" You blurt, but it's too late – your lips already betraying you and curling defensively into the exact expression he mentioned.  

"See?" Jimin lets out a small, fond laugh. A moment passes, the tension melting away into something softer and more sincere. "I really am sorry. I know I messed up. I should have just told you instead of hoping that you would understand."

Having it all laid out in front of you like this, you can't help but feel utterly foolish for the resentment you harboured for so long. You wasted so much time and energy on a rivalry that didn't even exist. But, even though you both fucked up in the past, it doesn't mean that it has to stay that way. 

"I did too. I was too harsh," You say softly. "Maybe we could... start over?"

Jimin squeezes your hand, his expression turning hopeful. "I'd like that." There's a silence, comfortable this time, and then: "So, lunch tomorrow?"

You shake your head with a smile. "I don't think we would be able to find a place to eat in peace with the stunt we just pulled here in the hallway. Instead, how about dinner?"

Jimin’s wings seem to flutter involuntarily based on the blush that dusts his cheeks, as if the prospect of a real date is enough to send him airborne. He swallows, and in the hush you swear you feel his heartbeat echo yours.

“Yeah," He grins, "Dinner sounds good.”

When you return to your desk, Jungkook is spinning in your chair, a pout on his lips. “So, should I congratulate you now, or wait until you’re mated?”

“Shut up,” You whine, scanning for eavesdroppers. “We just… talked.”

“Sure looked like more than talking to me,” He replies, narrowing his eyes.

"Nothing happened!" You lightly smack his arm, "We agreed to go out for dinner, that's all."

Jungkook stills, his eyes growing wide as he dramatically whispers, "Should I tell Jimin to watch out for poison in his food?"

"No, it's not like that.. anymore."

"I swear I picked the worst possible time to take a few days off!" Jungkook whines. "You wanted to bite his head off when I left on Wednesday. What happened between then and now to change your mind this much?" 

You rub your face, shrugging your shoulders as you say, "It's complicated."

"But!" You add, seeing Jungkook opening his mouth to complain, "I promise I'll tell you everything. I just need to talk some things out with Jimin first, I think there's been a lot of misunderstandings between us." 

"Fine," Jungkook concedes, "You have twenty-four hours." 

"Oh, how generous of you," You roll your eyes.

"If you need any advice, let me know," Jungkook chirps as he jumps out of your chair. “I’m an excellent wingman.”

You groan, but under the embarrassment there’s a fizz of something lighter, almost thrilled.

You make it through the day by sheer force of will. The incident that occurred between you and Jimin is definitely the talk of the office, and you can feel your coworkers' amused and envious stares. It certainly doesn't lessen your anxiety ahead of your little date. The entire walk home, you replay the conversation in your head, dissecting every word, every gesture. You’re so distracted that you nearly miss your own apartment building, and have to double back, face burning.

You feel so out of sorts while you're getting ready that it's not until you're standing outside the restaurant, nerves tangling in your stomach, that you realize you've put on a deep blue satin dress – one that matches the hue of Jimin's wings perfectly. 

It's too late to turn back now and standing Jimin up just because you made an embarrassing choice of dress is not an option. So you square your shoulders, take a deep breath and hope that the colour will read more black than blue in the dimly lit restaurant. 

It’s a small place—cozy, with twinkle lights in the window and the smell of fresh bread waftes out as you open the door. You spot Jimin immediately as you step in. 

He’s wearing a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, collar open, wings folded tight and gleaming in the soft light. He’s fidgeting with the edge of the menu, scanning the room every few seconds, and you realize with a tiny jolt that he’s nervous too.

The moment he sees you, he stands up so fast he nearly knocks over his chair. “Hey,” he says, then stops abruptly, blinking at your dress. So much for hoping he wouldn't notice. 

His eyes widen, then soften, mouth quirking into a crooked smile. “You look stunning.”

You want to say something suave in response, but what comes out is, “You too. Good. You look good.” 

You wince inwardly, but Jimin just beams, and you think maybe this won't be so bad after all. 

Dinner is a blur of laughter and awkward stories. You tell him about the time you accidentally sent your boss a meme instead of a quarterly report; he counters with a story about getting his feathers dyed neon pink in a charity event gone wrong. The conversation is easy—easier than you’d expected, the tension from before melting away. 

But when it’s time for the waiter to clear your plates, you feel the weight of the moment. There's still one conversation to be had that you've been dreading all night. “Jimin.. about before,” You begin, voice steady. “I’m sorry I pushed you away. I was scared of how I felt, and I handled it badly. You didn’t deserve that.”

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, as if he were weighing the sincerity of your words. “You really mean that?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You nod, and your whole face feels hot. “I do. I was stupid. And I’m not even sure why it freaked me out so much except—” You sigh. “I don’t know. I guess sometimes it’s easier to expect the worst than to hope for something good.”

Jimin draws in a breath, then lets it out slowly. “I get it,” He says. “I do. I mean, I pretend I don’t, but I know what it’s like to be scared of wanting something too much.” He shrugs, his wings shifting minutely behind him, like they’re echoing his discomfort. 

You open your mouth, then close it, trying to find the right words. The sentences tangle on your tongue, but you force yourself to be honest. “Jimin, I have to tell you something,” You say, voice barely above a whisper. “This whole thing—I didn’t even know I was asking to court you.”

You press on, even as your heart hammers in your chest, “The gift was just an apology for how I acted before. I didn’t mean to send you mixed signals, but I get why you thought it was more. Especially with what you, um, confessed to me last week.”

He blinks, his wings drawing in tight against his back. Something flickers across his face, a quick, vulnerable flinch before he composes himself.

"You didn't know?" The question comes out soft, almost wounded.

“No,” You admit, nothing short of mortified. "You’re the first hybrid I’ve ever – well, you know. I didn’t want to hurt you again, but I keep doing exactly that.”

"No, it's–" He starts, then stops, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his napkin. “It seems we keep misunderstanding each other."

"I'm really sorry. I didn't realize it then but I do know better now and... well, if you still want me, I promise I'll come up with something much better – a proper courting gift."

For a moment, Jimin just blinks at you, slow and deliberate. His lips twitch at the corners, not quite a smile but something close. His left hand, the one closest to you, creeps forward until it’s resting just at the edge of the table, so close to yours that it would be easy, almost accidental, to reach out and brush his fingers.

Still, he waits—giving you the choice to respond.

“You’d do that?” He asks, voice hushed. “You’d try again? Even knowing what that means now?”

You let your fingers brush, gently grasping his hand as you say, “I would, if you let me.”

He finally, properly smiles. It’s small but devastating, the kind of smile that makes a home in your ribcage. "I'd really like that. A lot."

You settle the bill soon after and step out into the night together, the city lights painting everything gold and blue. When your apartment building comes into view, you feel a knot of anticipation tighten in your stomach. Jimin hesitates at the entrance, then follows you to the front steps, his wings folding and unfolding in restless, jittery arcs.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. You can feel the pleasant breeze drag across your skin, ushering a promise of warmer days ahead. But before you can drag your feet up the stairs, Jimin steps close— close enough that you can feel the heat rising from his skin, can see the blue-black feathers at his nape twitch when he swallows.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” You murmur.

“Me too,” He replies, and then his expression goes unreadable for a fraction of a second. “I’m glad you gave me another chance.”

I am too, you think. But saying it doesn't feel like enough. So you step toward him, hands reaching for the lapels of his shirt, and pull him in.

He tastes like cinnamon and something sharp, maybe the wine he was drinking earlier. His lips are tentative, at first, as if he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he’s too forward. You giggle against his mouth, and he responds with this breathless, incredulous little exhale that makes you want to kiss him harder. So you do. The world tilts, just a little. In the press of his body against yours, you feel the tremor of his nerves, the careful shift of his wings so as not to crush you.

When you finally break apart, you’re both out of breath and a little dazed. Jimin’s hair is messed up from where you’d run your hands through it, and he’s looking at you as if you’re the last star in the sky.

“Wow,” You say, because it’s all you can manage.

He laughs — a real, unguarded laugh, and it’s so dazzling you almost want to shield your eyes.

“I know,” He says. There's a pause, as if he's weighing the words in his mouth before he speaks them, “I really do like you.”

It’s simple and raw, and you don’t know what to do with that kind of honesty except accept it. Because you feel the same way.

You reach for his hand, the one that’s been hovering at your side since you left the restaurant. His palm is warm and soft. “I really like you, too.”

He looks down at your joined hands, then back up, lips parted as if he’s working through a dozen possible things to say and discarding them all. He settles for, “Can I see you again?”

“I don’t know,” You tease, “I’m actually very busy with my extremely important spreadsheets and projects.”

Jimin snorts. “I can respect the hustle.” His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand. “But if there’s ever a vacancy in your schedule, let me know.”

"I might be able to fit you in somewhere," You hum. 

Jimin lets out a short, endeared laugh, and gently tugs you closer.

The second kiss is bolder, less hesitant, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. You feel the heat of his body through your dress, the firm pressure of his hands at the small of your back. You match his energy, fingers tangling in his hair, drawing him in as his tongue slides against yours. A soft moan escapes you when he nips at your bottom lip, the sensation sending electricity down your spine. His wings unfurl slightly behind him, feathers trembling with barely restrained desire as Jimin responds in kind, lips moving with urgent confidence, his touch almost reverent even as it borders on desperate. The world fades to black and blue and the sound of your heart, loud and insistent in your ears. You could get used to this, you think, to the weight and warmth and wildness of kissing Park Jimin under the stars.

When you finally part, you’re dizzy and laughing and giddy, and you can’t remember the last time you felt this light.

“Would you, um, like to come up?” You ask, suddenly shy.

There is a beat of silence – just enough for you to panic and wish you could take the words back – before Jimin’s lips curl in a slow, devastatingly sly smile.

“Depends,” He says, voice dipping into something honeyed and dangerous. “Will you be wearing that dress?”

You feel heat rush to your cheeks and you can't help but stammer as you say, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

His wings flutter slightly — a tell you’re learning to read. He's nervous. Excited.

Jimin’s eyes search your face, lingering at the corners of your lips, the slope of your jaw. He reaches up and, impossibly gentle, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Either way,” He murmurs, voice barely a whisper, “I’d follow you anywhere."

a/n: it took almost a year but i'm finally back with the final chapter!! this road sure hasn't been easy for the MC and Jimin – it's hard to look past your own bias when you've made up your mind about a person – but the MC pulled through in the end! they're going to end up being the company's power couple for sure 🤧

ps. jimin is a blue bowerbird hybrid!

Something is missing.

You stare at his handsome face as he begins to stir in his sleep. Groggily, with a deep voice, he asks, “What is it, darling?”

“Hobi,” you say, your eyebrows furrowing together slightly as you wonder why you feel like something is amiss. Then, it dawns on you. “The boys.”

He doesn’t bother opening his eyes. Instead, he snuggles closer to you, his nose brushing slightly against yours. “What about them?”

“They’re not here,” you remind him.

His eyes snap open when he realizes he’s forgotten them at the elven camp. A curse falls from his lips. “Shit. I’ll go get them.”

He gets up from your bed and puts his clothes back on. You sit up, pulling the blanket to cover your own naked body. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, you stay here.” He kisses you, and it feels so warm and inviting. You lean in for more, but he suddenly pulls back. There’s a devilish smile on his face. “Wait for me, darling. When I come back, we’ll have more fun.”

“Okay,” you reply, holding him onto that promise. He kisses you one more, then he flies out the window like a cool breeze.

But something still doesn’t feel right. There must be something else you’ve forgotten.

Silence quickly fills the space. You’ve never realized how incredibly lonely and quiet it is without the boys sleeping soundly in their beds or Hobi guarding you throughout the night. Your body shivers as waves of emotion hit you all at once.

You feel sick. You feel like crying.

You curled up into yourself and probably cried for hours and hours.

Until you became too exhausted and allowed sleep to take over again.

Eventually, you wake up to the rustle of leaves and footsteps just outside your little home. Hobi and the boys have returned home.

You wish to come out and greet them, but you still don’t feel right. Your body feels sore and cold, like darkness had swallowed you whole after the sun had abandoned you. Although they’re still a bit far, you could hear them talking about you.

“Where’s Mother? Is she here?”

Hobi just laughs. “She’s resting. She had a very long night.”

He sends the boys off to bed without further explanation. Then, the door to your little house opens. You barely hear his footsteps, but you feel his warmth.

“Hobi,” you whisper, lips barely moving as you muster your strength to look at him. You feel so fragile and weak.

The smile on his lips scare you. It almost looks sinister, like he sees something about you that you’re not able to see. “Did you miss me?”

You blink a couple times, trying to focus on him. You feel so strange and dizzy, but you immediately reach for him as he helps you sit up and gathers you in his arms. Each kiss he plants on your bare skin warms you up a little more, defrosting you from the cold darkness he left you in. His touch leaves you yearning, even if it feels possessive and dangerous.

Something still doesn’t feel right. There’s still something missing, and you can’t place what it is. You’re forgetting something very important.

But in Hobi’s arms, your worries and fears are shoved away. All is right again, and you feel so warm and happy when you’re with him.

“Yes,” you admit, regaining enough strength to kiss him. You cradle his jaw with your hands and whisper, “Please don’t leave me again.”

Hobi smiles and turns his head slightly to kiss your wrist. A gasp falls from your lips when – suddenly and playfully – Hobi has you back on your bed. His hand pins down the same wrist he just kissed over your head as leans over your ear. 

“Never.”

Morning comes, and you sleep in.

By the time you’re fully awake, it’s too late to go on adventures. No matter how long you sleep, your body feels too tired to get out of bed anyway.

“It’ll get easier,” Hobi says gently, bringing you food. It’s something you’ve eaten before: berries, fish, nuts, and stews. Somehow, you can’t stomach it well. It starts to taste bland and rotten. You shove it away before you vomit, and Hobi threads his fingers through your hair. “It’s just new. You’ll be fine.”

“What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Hobi reaches out and presents a white lily to you. “Drink. It’ll make you feel better.”

Within its petals is a clear liquid. Water, you think. Until it tastes too sweet and sticky. Medicine. Unlike the food, Hobi makes sure you take every last drop.

Before you know it, you’re submerged in a bathtub that’s been pulled into your room. Flower petals and aromatic oils mix with the water as the lit fireplace keeps it warm. Hobi is behind you, also in the tub, meticulously lathering your hair and scalp.

“Have I been asleep all day?”

“Yes,” he replies, now massaging your neck and shoulders. He hands you another lily with the same, clear liquid. “It’s okay, your body needs the rest.”

“Mm,” you hum in agreement. You drink the medicine without hesitation and grimace. “The second day gets better, right?”

Hobi laughs and kisses your temple. “It’s been a week, darling.”

You should be angry. You should be terrified.

Something is happening to you, and you don’t know what.

“No,” you answer, though you can’t recall the question he asked. You’re wearing a dress that you don’t remember owning. The fabric looks, feels, and smells like the soft and smooth texture of tulips. But around your neck, as always, is his kiss.

Whatever the question is, Hobi looks annoyed. “Still?”

The tension that hangs in the air is thick. You’re not sure how, but you can almost taste his irritation. It’s a heat you can almost tangibly feel, crawling under your skin, making you twitch with discomfort.

“Hobi…” you begin, nervous under his piercing gaze. There are words that you want to say, but they’re already forgotten.

He sighs. “The dosage might be too little.”

You frown. Your gaze shifts to the lily in his hand. “No, Hobi. I don’t like it.”

Whatever it is – whatever he’s been giving you – it makes you feel strange.

“It’ll make you feel better. You know that.”

He brings the medicine to your lips, but doesn’t force you to take it. He never does.

Your eyes water as you look at him. “Are you punishing me?”

His expression softens. The tension melts away as he admits, “On the contrary, I’m trying to make it easier for you.”

Hobi doesn’t allow the boys to see you.

Whenever they ask about you, he simply states that you’ve been sick and that he doesn’t want them to disturb you. 

But as the days pass, they become more and more worried.

Only Hobi is allowed to enter your house. He brings you things to eat from the main house, and returns with the food barely touched. He’s put off adventures and visits to the Fae Court to take care of you, only leaving the bunker when he’s certain that you’re in a deep and dreamless sleep. There are times when the boys dare to venture far enough to your house and hear your voice, see your shadow from the window, and have the confirmation that you’re still alive.

“How is Mother still sick?” Tae asks with concern. It feels like they haven’t seen you in a very long time.

“Maybe the ritual from the elves didn’t work,” Yoon reasons sadly.

“That woman didn’t give her anything,” Hobi states, as if he knew all along that the elves would try to fool him. He scoffs, pouring a clear liquid into a lily flower. “She thought she was clever, but she couldn’t outsmart me.”

Min frowns. “If their potion wasn’t going to work, then what was it all for?”

“To see how the elves do their magic,” Hobi reveals.

Transformation can be an awfully painful process. Each of the lost boys felt it when their bodies suddenly grew from a child to a man. The faeries may bestow some of their gifts to humans: sight to see them, to talk to them, to make deals with them. But to turn into one of them completely is a burden only one other person knows.

“Almost, darling,” Hobi gently says, bringing the medication to your lips. He strokes your hair as you obediently drink it. “You’re doing much better already.”

When you finally come out of your house and into the main room, the boys look at you with shock.

“What did he do to you?”

Something isn’t right. Why are your boys so upset?

“What do you mean?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

Why are your boys crying?

“You’re just different, Mother. You’ve changed.”

Time always worked so differently in Neverland. As a child, you’d be away for days on your little adventures. Only to come back the same night you left, just before daybreak.

Here, it’s like time stands still.

People don’t age. They don’t grow up. Bonds between the lost boys are everlasting, just as feud between rival parties never ends.

Somehow, you’ve always had a sense of when it was time to go home. To you, Neverland was a dream you could wake up from. The adventures, the friendships, the fun – they’d all be on pause until your return. And when you do, it’s like nothing has changed. Everything resumes right where it had left off.

However, this time, upon your return, time works differently.

It’s moved forward, aging the residents, changing the flow and rules of the world. The boys are no longer children, but grown men. Many of them have thinned out over time, remembered only by the initials carved in the lost boy’s treasure. Communities around this world have grown as well: newer generations are born, traditions are passed on, and life continues to go on.

Even the youthful, faerie prince now has responsibilities to burden.

“The Court is getting impatient, darling,” Hobi tells you, touching your hand. Your eyes widen, snapping out of that realm between sleep and wake that you tend to drift off into. “I need your consent.”

You pull your hand away. “No.”

Hobi sighs.

No matter how many times he’s carefully adjusted your dosages, no matter how well he’s taken care of you, and no matter how clingy you’ve become with him, there’s still an irritably stubborn part of you that wants to fight off your destiny.

“The Court already has a date set for us,” he presses, taking your hand again. You let him, and he rewards you with a soft kiss to your knuckles. “It’ll be in your best interest to change your mind before then.”

Snatches of time are nothing but blurs and blank spaces for you, almost like you’re in a dream. You’ve lost track of how much time has passed since the day you tasted the forbidden fruit, to when you were last fully aware of your surroundings.

One moment, you’re trying to patch a hole in one of the boy’s shirts. Then, you’re suddenly at a dining table with a feast in front of you. As you reach for something to eat, you’re now outside in the pouring rain, holding your hand out to nothing as droplets fall and the boys call for you.

Pieces of your memories are missing. You’re forgetting things that were important to you – things that made you who you are. Things that made you feel human.

“Mother, don’t cry,” your oldest, Jin, softly pleads. He uses his sleeve to wipe your tears. “Father should be home soon.”

It’s always so hard for you when you’re apart from Hobi for some time. Like the walls close in, and breathing feels more difficult the longer he’s away. But being in the main house with the lost boys dims that anxiety significantly.

“You’re right. I don’t mean to make you worry.”

You care so much for them, but their feelings are so tangible to you now: their worry, their fear, their guilt. 

You wish you knew why they feel this way. You wish you knew what changed.

“I hope you’ll still be kind to us, Mother,” your youngest one whispers.

You’re confused. “Why wouldn’t I be, Kook?”

An uneasy silence follows. Then, in a tiny voice, Joon mentions, “You’re slowly becoming more like them.”

You wish you knew what that meant.

You wish your head wasn’t so foggy and your body wasn’t so fatigued. Maybe then, the memories of who you were – as the boys remember you – wouldn’t be escaping you so quickly. Maybe then, you’d understand a bit more.

Until then, you try to check the differences they see. 

There aren’t any mirrors in the underground, but your ears aren’t any pointier like the elves. You haven’t shrunk in size like the dwarves. And you certainly haven’t woken up with a fish tail as legs like the mermaids.

But your footsteps have become lighter. Your appetite has changed, only craving for sweets and candies that Hobi started to bring you. Under a certain light, you swear your skin was glowing.

You haven’t sprouted wings like faeries, but when Hobi returns home and takes you out on an adventure – just the two of you – you almost feel like one. Chasing each other through the forest, dancing barefoot on the water’s surface beneath the stars and moon, watching flowers bloom for you with one touch. The night always ends with him in your bed, tangled with each other beneath the sheets. Just when you’re about to drift off to sleep, you’d feel him kiss your bare back where your wings would be.

But Hobi is right about one thing.

You are getting better.

The lucid periods are becoming more frequent, yet everything is too bright and too loud. You hear the whispers of the wind and the chatter of insects from a distance. You see every tiny drop of rain and every speck of dirt in the soil if you look at them long enough. You smell mud tracks on their feet and the sun-stale sweat on the boys as they return after a long day of exploring and hunting.

All your senses are heightened, and all your emotions feel more intense. You’re finally starting to see things for what they really are.

You find yourself at the Fae Court, being crowned with a ring of small flowers and offered succulent fruit. Hobi isn’t with you at the moment, caught up in conversations with other high-ranking faeries. Leaving the perfect opportunity for a male faerie to pour you a cup of magical wine.

A realization comes to you as soon as you sip the liquor. It tastes just like the medicine in the white lilies – sweet, a bit sticky, rich and floral. Though, it feels much more potent than anything Hobi’s ever given you, and it instantly puts you in a daze.

Your body feels heavy. Your mind is spinning. You could barely see straight as you’re pulled deeper into the party, further away from where you last saw Hobi. The voices around you sound like they’re underwater as some of the faeries gather around you, saying how they haven’t seen you before and wondering what happened to your wings.

Then, it occurs to them that you’re human – another plaything for tonight’s party.

You feel scared. The way the faeries look at you doesn’t make you feel safe.

“Give her more wine and put her with the others,” one of them instructs. They seem amused by the fear in your eyes as they hold your face and press the rim of a chalice against your lips, forcing you to drink.

“What are you doing, darling?”

The chalice falls before you could finish it, spilling the rest on the floor. The faeries are frozen with terror when they realize their mistake.

“We didn’t know she was yours, Your Highness!”

A chill runs up your spine as a gust of cold wind hits you from behind. It knocks you and the others off their feet. You feel dizzy as you lie on the ground, disoriented but unharmed. But you can’t bring yourself to move as chaos erupts.

“My poor darling,” he says after a few minutes, helping you off the ground and holding you in his arms. He holds your face, forcing you to look at him. “I can’t take my eyes off you for a second, can I?”

You can’t answer. Your whole body trembles as the screams of agony and terror surround you both, drowned out by the loud music and the chatter of the party. Hobi acts like nothing is happening, leaning down to kiss your wine-stained lips. No one dares intervene, either drunkenly oblivious or too afraid to step in.

Suddenly, you snap out of it. The haze and lethargy are gone, and in its place is the tread of your mistake – the monster that has you right where he wants you.

“Hobi,” you whisper, keeping your voice from shaking so he doesn’t suspect a thing. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“As you wish,” he replies, happy to oblige.

Your head is still spinning, your thoughts are running wild.

But you’re certain of what you saw.

While you were on the floor, you saw shadows on the wall. Pixie dust and blood splatter against it, also staining his hand. Blood is smeared on your face from the same hand that held you, proof that your eyes aren’t tricking you.

A silhouette that looks like Hobi had ripped off the wings of those faeries.

“You’re not coming with us, Mother?”

“Not today, Jin,” you tell him, patting his head gently with reassurance. “Mother isn’t feeling well.”

After the party, you genuinely felt sick. Nausea after what you witnessed, what you drank, and what you now know made it impossible for you to feel settled. Hobi stayed with you, holding your hair up and soothingly rubbing your back. He even helped you get cleaned up and tucked you under his chin as he laid in your bed.

“See?” he says, holding you tightly to his chest. “Don’t I make a great husband?”

The horrifying thought of soon being wedded to this monster makes you nauseous all over again.

Min’s eyes darts nervously before he dares to ask, “Father didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Father would never hurt Mother,” Hobi answers, and Min visibly flinches as if expecting the Fae prince to last out for such an implicating question. But Hobi comes to your side and kisses your cheek. “Father loves her very much.”

Love?

Hobi never said that to you before.

You’re not sure if he really means it.

He takes you back to your house as the boys prepare for their adventure without you. It’s hard not to feel nervous. You’re so attached to him – mind, body, and soul – that distance feels so daunting. Hobi helps you get comfortable, and then leaves a lily with the faerie wine at your bedside.

“Be sure to take it,” he reminds you. “It’ll help you sleep.”

You nod your head.

Perhaps if you were still under his spell, you actually would.

Your stomach churns at the thought. A day long ago, if Hobi wishes, you’d dance for him for hours, despite how sore your legs are. If he wishes to venture through treacherous seas and perilous lands, you’d blindly follow him through the danger. If he wishes for you to have chocolate cake, you’d immediately reach for the pile of dirt on the table and attempt to eat it.

Hobi watches as you pour the liquid in your mouth and pretend to doze off. Once your eyes are closed, he kisses your forehead and exits your room. From the main house, you hear him rally up the other boys before they begin to head off.

Then, once you’re certain none of them are coming back anytime soon, you roll to the edge of your bed and spit out the medicine you refused to swallow.

Every second counts when you feel like you’re running out of time, so you quickly spring out of bed and try to come up with a plan.

The elven sage mentioned a pirate ship – the only vessel that could take you out of Neverland. You’ve failed to reach it the first time, but now that you know how to fly, perhaps your chances are better now.

But another creeping thought lingers like a dark shadow: As long as you’re here, Hobi will find you. You’d be a fool for even trying to run away from him.

Still, you can’t stay here. You can’t marry him.

Your heart jumps when you hear voices nearby. Footsteps approach the hideout.

Is it the boys? Did they forget something?

For a moment, you consider going back into your bed and pretending to be asleep in case Hobi checks on you. But as you listen, you pick up that the steps and strides are different, and too many that belong to just seven people. They smell like ash, salt, and seawater. The pitch and tones of their voices don’t seem to match any of the lost boys.

Who are they? Could you figure out a way to sneak past them? Would you dare?

If you stay here, they’ll find you. If you try to leave, they might catch you.

Their footsteps come closer, and you quickly hide in a wardrobe before you hear someone open the door to your house. Your hand is clasped over your mouth, trying not to make a sound. Trying not to even breathe too hard. 

Heavy footsteps slowly circle around the room. Your keen hearing catches the covers of your bed being pulled, of furniture being moved, of your things being rummaged through. Eventually, the person makes their way toward the wardrobe where you’re hiding.

Before they open the wardrobe, someone rushes in. “Captain. The coast is clear.”

The captain sighs and withdraws from your hiding spot. “Okay, Smee. Proceed with the plan.”

You listen as the heavy boots walk out of your room. Somehow, you’re safe.

But only for now.

When it seems like none of them are coming back, you slowly open the door to your wardrobe. You still don’t know who they are or what they were looking for, but it doesn’t seem like any of your things have been stolen.

Your gaze lingers to the door. You try to listen if anyone is there, but you hear nothing.

Carefully, you step out of your house.

A hand clasp over your mouth before you could scream.

“We caught someone, Captain!”

Unfamiliar faces surround your little home, dressed in rags and carrying the salty scent of the sea. Rugged men, on a mission to retrieve their stolen treasure, who’ve found the hidden bunker and were waiting to ambush Hobi and the others.

Until they found you. Something far more precious than any jewel or piece of gold.

Dressed in red and with a hook for his hand, is the captain of the pirates. Icy blue eyes glance down at you and a smirk appears on his face. “There you are, poppet.”

There are many tales about the notorious sea pirates that sail around Neverland.

Oftentimes, they’re the villains of your stories. A ruthless, intimidating bunch with little to no morals. Cross them, and they’ll make you walk the plank to your certain death. That is, if they don’t gut you and skin you alive first. They plunder for riches and wreak havoc wherever they land. Their violent and merciless ways have them feared by all the other residents in the paradise island.

And you’ve been taken as their hostage.

In the captain’s quarters, you sit at the end of a small dining table. Salted pork, sea biscuits, and rum are offered to you, but you barely touch a thing as the man sitting across from you indulges in the savory and rich flavors.

“So what the mermaids said are true,” the captain observes, swirling a chalice of wine. “You really have come back to the Fae World.”

You frown. Fae World? Is that what Neverland truly is?

You seem to recall, in some stories, mermaids, elves, and dwarves could be considered part of the Fae. Perhaps that’s why everyone in Neverland seems to fear and obey him. He’s their prince, too.

“It wasn’t by choice.”

“Perhaps at the beginning, that was the case. You’ve certainly made yourself at home now,” the captain points out. “Word is, you’ll be the queen of all of us soon. The faeries have been decorating for days. The dwarves have been requested to do their finest work for your rings. You’ll live happily ever after, just like the endings in your stories.”

“I won’t marry him.”

The captain arches his eyebrow. “No?”

“Never!”

The captain laughs loudly. “You surprise me, poppet. You aren’t the forlorn little girl that you used to be.”

You scowl. This captain seems to know an awful lot about you. Yet, you know so little of him.

“You’re… Hook, aren’t you?” you ask slowly, eyeing his missing hand. In its place is a curved tool made of the one thing that’s deadly to faeries – iron.

The captain smiles. “I am, but not quite.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am not the same sea villain in your stories. In fact, you and I have a lot more in common than you’d think,” he continues, swirling his chalice again. “Years ago, you could say we were good friends, once – one of the boys, if you will.”

Your eyes widen. “You were a lost boy?”

“Aye. I am… the consequence of what happens when a child grows up too fast in this world,” he states bitterly, sipping the wine. “I was a Lost Boy. I was the very first one. There was once a time when Hope and I considered each other best friends. Now, we’re sworn enemies.”

“What exactly happened between you and Hobi?”

“You did, poppet.”

Three miracles happened the day you arrived in Neverland.

One – Hope didn’t kill Tae on the spot when he almost shot your heart with an arrow and pierced the hidden “kiss” around your neck.

Two – When Tae was on the ground and groveled for your forgiveness, you hugged him. You thanked him and the other lost boys for the new, pretty house they built for you. And as you held the crying boy in your arms, you looked at the faerie prince and said, “Don’t harm my new friends.”

Three – Hope actually listened.

You weren’t the first girl to join the lost boys, but when Hope introduced you as their new mother, they knew you’d be different. You were cute, kind, and reliable. Gentle in ways they’ve never known, yet time and again, you’d prove that you have what it takes to keep up with them and their adventures.

Hope was infatuated with you. Enamored with your smile, your laugh, and your joy. For the first time, Hope cared about something more than himself.

But he wasn’t the only one you caught the attention of.

“James?”

The young boy takes your hand and smiles.

He was the oldest of the group, with dark curls in his hair that contrast his piercing blue eyes. His boyish charm and youthful vigor made him stand out from the others, especially with the way he wielded a sword. Many of the lost boys admired him and saw him as a leader as much as they did Hope.

After all, he was the first Lost Boy.

He was Hope’s best friend, and the only one who remembered his real name.

“Come with me,” he urges, and the two of you run through the dwarven caves, passing by the rest of your group who are scrambling to hide inside mine carts, behind crates and large boulders, and within shadows of dark tunnels. Hope’s voice counts down in a slow pace, echoing a bit as you and James sprint further from the chaos.

“You’re a genius!” you exclaim, impressed with the hiding spot he found as James’ cheeks flush pink. “Hobi will never find us here!”

James motions for you to quiet down, and your hands cover your mouth. Shouts of surprise and distraught are heard from a short distance. Hope is already seeking you all out one by one.

It’s always game over the moment Hope finds you, even if there are some still hiding. And he won’t stop the game until he catches you.

To the Lost Boys, you’ve become their dear friend. Despite being the only girl in a group of twenty or so boys, you got along with each of them – particularly James and seven others that were also close to Hope: Jin, Joon, Yoon, Min, Tae, and Kook.

To the Lost Boys, you were like their mother. You comforted the boys when they cried. You made sure none of them got left behind during adventures. You took care of them and taught them how to upkeep the bunker. You told them stories every night before sending them off to bed.

Above all, to the Lost Boys, you were Hope’s girl.

You’re not sure how many of the Lost Boys have been found, but after a while, all you hear is silence. James breaks it when he suddenly asks, “Do you like Hope?”

“Hobi?” you clarify, and he nods his head. There’s a bashful smile on your face as you admit, “I like him. He’s nice to me, and it’s fun when we play together.”

Hope is infatuated with you, but the feeling has always been mutual. You pay more attention to him than any other boy in their group. And why wouldn’t you? He’s taught you how to fight and how to fly. He’s filled your head with pretty thoughts and courted you with intentions you’ve yet to understand.

James looks at you for a long time. “Do you love him?”

“Love?” you echo as a look of confusion crosses your face. Until now, you haven’t really thought about it. What is love? What does it mean to you? Is that how you feel toward him? “I… I suppose I do.”

James tilts his head. “How do you know?”

“I talk about it in my stories all the time.”

“But that’s just make-believe, isn’t it?”

Before you can answer, the two of you are caught. 

“I’ve found you, darling.” Hope smiles as he gathers you in his arms. Your scream of surprise turns to laughter as you hold onto him. As James also emerges, Hope’s dark eyes focus on him. “I see you’ve had some help.”

James tries not to shiver.

Little by little, James has noticed three change in his old friend.

One – the obsession. The way he’d stalk you long before he brought you here, peeking into the window of your nursery and using his powers to watch you without notice. He’d claim he was just trying to get to know the girl he was destined to be with.

Two – the control. His fits of jealousy when you’d cheer for someone else during a game or laugh a little too hard at someone else’s joke. He’d manipulate you into obedience, and eventually convince you to leave your brothers behind at the nursery when they started to become a problem for him.

Three – the possessiveness. How he hovers over you like a shadow. How he often keeps you within his reach. How he’d take things too far if anyone or anything threatens his claim on you.

Ever since the faeries made a deal with that lady all those years ago, he’s never wanted anyone else to cross him. For the price of her freedom, you became his. And he’ll keep you with him forever.

Now that you’re found, it’s game over.

Hope doesn’t let go of your hand as he takes you back to the others. He doesn’t give James a chance to speak with you as you all return to the underground bunker. It isn’t until you’ve fallen asleep when Hope finally acknowledges him.

“Back off, James,” he commands. “You don’t want to make an enemy of me.”

And James – his best friend, the first of the Lost Boys, and a talented swordsman – looks him in the eye and replies, “It’s not me who is feeling threatened, boy.”

After that game of hide-and-seek, something had changed between the two friends. A rivalry brewed, leaving the Lost Boys divided.

Some stayed loyal to Hope. He was, after all, their rightful leader. He provided them eternal youth and a carefree paradise. But his ties to the Fae made him cruel and powerful. It was easy for him to take away this lifestyle as it was to grant it.

Many, however, sided with James. He was more approachable, more reliable. His way with words was as good as his hand with a sword. He wasn’t afraid to speak up for his brothers and rebel against the Fae prince, but his actions had consequences.

His right hand – his good hand – is one of the prices he had to pay.

The ship rocks unsteadily, nearly causing you to lose your balance. You still feel sick: nausea, fatigue, headaches. But without the medicine Hobi has been giving you, it’s still better than how you felt before.

Despite being a hostage, you’re treated well.

You’re kept inside the captain’s quarters, having your meals brought to you and a place to sleep on the couch. Darkness and yearning still creeps in from being away from Hobi for too long, but clarity starts to come to you as the strong attachments start to fade. Hook concludes that the concoction has been turning you into a faerie, and with due time, the symptoms will subside.

“There’s still some humanity in you left,” he states, sitting behind his desk when he tells you his observation. You can’t say you’re surprised. Even you have noticed how lighter your steps are, the way your skin seems to glow under a certain light, and how you feel phantom pain between your shoulder-blades as if something is supposed to be there. “It’s not too late. We can still save you.”

“Is there a way to reverse it?”

“I’m afraid not, poppet.”

Your heart drops. “Then, what do we do?”

“Luckily for you, this ship is special,” Hook says with a prideful smile. “Faeries aren’t the only things that can travel between worlds. This vessel can, too.”

Just as the elderly elf had claimed. This ship is the ticket to your way home.

“You’ll take me back to my world?”

“Aye. As long as you promise you’ll never return here,” he replies, but he notices your hesitation. “That is what you want, correct?”

“I won’t see Hobi again,” you state, more to yourself than anything else. You know you don’t want to marry him. You know that it’s better to stay away from him so his thrall doesn’t cloud your decisions and autonomy. You’ve started to see why people in Neverland call him a monster.

And yet…

Hook scoffs. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Why are you helping me?”

Hobi must be looking for you by now. He must’ve discovered the empty bunker, torn through it like a tornado trying to find you, until it dawns on him that you’re missing. He must’ve called the aid of mermaids, faeries, elves, and dwarves to search for you – to make sure every stone is overturned, to report any findings they come across, and to not rest until you’re found.

Once Hope finds you, it’s game over.

“I’d like to consider this a favor to an old friend,” Hook casually replies. “I won’t lie – hiding you here is a big risk to me and my crew. But I can’t think of a sweeter revenge than sending the love of his life away for good.”

You swallow at his words. “So, this is revenge.”

“To your benefit, yes,” he admits and straightens up in his seat. “Aside from that, I do believe you know something that would be useful to me.”

“Do I?” you ask, doubtful. “What would that be?”

“Hope’s real name.”

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