Shadows Birthright | MYG

Shadow’s Birthright | MYG

Chapter 06: Convergence

Plot: Riding in on thunder and lightning, two princes are born. But a crown cannot be shared. It can only be worn by one and one alone. The hands of man have separated the brothers, allowing one to live in wealth and comfort inside the palace while the other grows up among commoners. But Fate cannot be destroyed by the hands of man. A shared destiny reunites the brothers; one to become a king who descends into madness and the other will rise as a dragon whose journey has only just begun in order to claim a crown he does not desire to have.

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: series | historical!au | fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Lee Yoon) x Female OC (Kalina Shuri)

Warnings: Historical setting, caste system, magic/sorcery, graphic violence, disturbing graphic images, religious tones, angst, slow burn, smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 01 02 03 04 05

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 4,065

Tag List: @luxekook, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @stillcopingxx, @taevkimchi, @aroseforyoongi, @vivpurple7, @happilystrongthroughthedark, @sw33tnight, @nikkitane, @mini-coop25, @shrimpmsg, @ggukkieland​

AN: Sorry this took me so long. Life decided it wanted to kick me in the face repeatedly. But I did warn everyone this was going to take a little time with the updates. Please be patient with me. I promise you that it will be worth the wait. If you would like to be added to the tag list, feel free to drop me a line!

P.S. Please bear in mind that while the historical accuracy will be mostly correct, I am setting this in a time period in Joseon history where there was no such thing as a king who had a twin brother. Obviously that’s where the fiction/creative freedom is going to come in. Everything else will be period accurate, trust and believe.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Things do not happen. Things are made to happen.” - John F. Kennedy

Yoon greeted his parents with the Crown Princess at his side. They both bowed deeply as they heard the King and Queen laugh in delight. The Royal Consorts also received bows from the Crown Prince and Princess. Finally, they turned and were given bows from the princesses and princes of the Royal Court. The officials and guards, as well as the rest of the palace staff, were present for the opening ceremony to celebrate Crown Prince Yoon’s first international liaison. 

When they were finally dismissed, Yoon took his seat next to the Crown Princess, waiting for food and wine to be served. Various voices of praise and congratulations were given to Yoon, to which he simply nodded his head politely and smiled while returning his own charming forms of gratitude. He allowed the Crown Princess to serve him a cup of wine and he, in turn, also served her. Merriment and good cheer surrounded the palace.

It made Yoon sick to his stomach.

The conversation he had with his Father-In-Law still didn’t sit well with him. At his own behest, he politely reminded Minister Jang that he should keep his small-minded ambitions to himself. He didn’t need to drag the Crown Princess into his mess. Regardless of his own personal feelings, Yoon held a deep amount of respect for his Princess. Jang Chae-Ok had no ambitions or selfish desires for wanting to be Crown Princess. She was simply a childhood friend to Yoon who always remained faithfully at his side. 

The Crown Princess was not blind to his relationship with Kalina. But she also did not question it. It was from this show of her character alone that Yoon promised he would not take a Royal Consort when he became King. He owed her that much for her understanding.

“I wish that I could accompany you, Your Highness.” The Crown Princess’s voice was sad, matching her expression. 

He reached out to grasp her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It will be a long journey. It is no place for a Crown Princess.” Yoon smiled. “I will be back before you realize I’m gone.”

She sighed. “I will miss you greatly.” She placed her hand over his. “Do be careful.”

“I will, Crown Princess.”

A loud gong resounded, drawing everyone’s attention. All conversation hushed as the head of the Artisan school approached. He bowed deeply while the others waited with anticipation for his announcement. 

“Members of the Royal Court! We are here to celebrate the Crown Prince’s upcoming journey. We wish him great fortune but before he traverses out in the world, we want to be able to ease his worries and give him memories to hold on to as he travels to Ming. Things that he will be able to keep close to his heart and treasure if he should ever become homesick.” 

Yoon smiled, despite his own internal dark thoughts. He loved his country. He loved his people. The skills they mastered in order to have these small moments to showcase their talents were clearly battles within their own houses. Some performers and artists had better skills than others, hence why they were allowed to appear at the forefront. Others were still in training to be able to climb up in the ranks along the way. 

He secretly admired the drive that pushed these individuals along. Everyone had dreams, goals, and ambitions. People’s reasons for doing anything were threads that bonded everyone together to achieve common goals. No matter how small or big, they were to be appreciated. Even if one could not voice these appreciations aloud. 

The Chief Artisan gave a wide gesture, spinning on his heels as the performers made their way into the grand courtyard. “We hope that our performers, both within the palace walls, and those who have managed to make their ways from the streets, will be able to soothe your soul.”

Everyone applauded as Senior Artisan stepped away, allowing for the in house performers to showcase everything they’ve practiced for days. Curiously, Yoon hummed to himself at the mention of street performers entering the palace. If they were skilled enough to gain the court’s attention, there was a good chance they would be given slots to enter the performance schools within the palace halls. It would be a golden opportunity to change their livelihoods for the better.

He was keen to see just what they were made of.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

Jimin clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, silencing Taehyung’s whining. “Hyung-nim is filling in for Namjoon Hyung-nim.” His eyes narrowed. “Surely you don’t expect him to wear the dress, do you?”

Taehyung pouted. “No, but still!”

“Besides,” Hoseok cut in, patting Taehyung’s shoulders roughly, “we all memorized multiple parts in case something happens. We only had time for Hyung-nim to learn one. Stop being difficult.”

Yoongi smirked, shaking his head while readjusting the waistband to his costume. The large rosary that hung from his neck was heavy and the boots were a little bit cumbersome, but bearable. He would be able to switch his shoes out when it came time for the tightrope routine. Jungkook and Seokjin fawned over him, making sure he looked as proper as he could in performance gear. 

Namjoon appeared, holding out a red and black demon mask to him. “I gave it some new paint earlier so it should be dry now.”

Taking the mask from him, Yoongi cradled it in his hands. “Thank you, Namjoon-ah.” He scratched at the cloth headband. “What will you be doing during the performance?”

“I’ll be narrating and helping the musicians out. Percussion, mostly.” 

“I see.” Yoongi eyed the mask, taking note of the large white fangs protruding from the mouth carved into the wood. 

Because of the depth of the role, he wouldn’t be able to take his mask off during the entire performance. Beneficial for him, but he hated that Namjoon wouldn’t be getting any credit. Yoongi knew how hard they all must have been preparing for this particular performance. A small measure of guilt wormed its way into his heart, but Namjoon’s laugh brought him out of his thoughts. 

“Now I feel even more terrible, Hyung-nim.” Yoongi saw the concerned look on Namjoon’s face, even though he was smiling. “Seriously, you’re doing me a favor. I feel bad enough. If you keep looking like that, I’ll think I’m completely worthless.”

“I’m sorry, Namjoon-ah.” Clearing his throat, he nodded. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be feeling like this.”

“Thank the heavens you’re wearing a mask.” Taehyung pushed his headband up a little more. “Otherwise the audience is going to think you’re guilty of some crime.”

“It’s just nerves.” Jimin flashed Yoongi a reassuring smile. “Right, Hyung-nim?”

All he could do was give a small smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Hayan Geutop Troupe?” An unfamiliar voice pulled all of their attention. They saw someone dressed in official robes motioning toward them. “You’re up next.”

No one could hide their excitement. This was the first time any of them would be entering the palace. Each of them were given temporary passes to gain access. Once inside, they all made sure they were looking their best. The sound of joyful laughter and music rumbled through the courtyard, causing Yoongi’s heartbeat to elevate with excitement.

“Hyung-nim!” Jungkook gently nudged Yoongi’s back. “Your mask! Don’t forget to put it on!”

“Oh. Right.” Yoongi slid the large Demon mask over his head, making sure the cloth headwrap covered every part of his neck from view except the front. 

The sound of loud drums rang out through the courtyard. It was a little bit difficult to breathe with the mask on, but not impossible. If anything, Yoongi was more concerned with the mask falling off by accident. But Hoseok assured him that the bands were secured and redesigned to fit his head perfectly. It wouldn’t come off unless he pulled it off himself.

Admittedly, his nerves were a little frayed. Being around so many people at once, as well as so much noise, was teetering him toward sensory overload. But he continued to remind himself that he had a job to do. He just needed to get through the performance and then he could continue exploring the Crown City to his heart’s content. They were set to ride back out to the mountains at first light.

He hoped the shops would still be open before the lanterns were lit.

The large drum was hit, signaling for everyone to settle down. Yoongi took another breath, waiting for their group to be announced in front of the Royal Court. His vision was limited through the small holes in his mask - the rest of the world shadowed on either side of him. He could hear his own breath in his ears as he tried to peer out in front of him. But he wasn’t sure what he was even looking for. There was a strange pull at his heart; a feeling he couldn’t quite explain. 

Like someone was calling to him.

No. Like multiple people were calling to him.

“Members of the Royal Court! I present to you a troupe of young performers who hail from the outskirts of the Crown City!” The Chief Artisan looked in their direction as some of the students in the palace artisan school helped to set up their stage. “The White Tower Troupe!”

There was a round of polite applause from all the members of the royal court. The other troupe members were helping to set up the first scene for their skit. Yoongi waited patiently, even though he offered to help. Taehyung and Hoseok insisted that he stand back and focus on the performance. It wouldn’t take them long to get the set pieces ready. Once everything was put together, Namjoon walked gently forward and bowed deeply to the Royal family seated at the large banquet table.

“Please forgive our lack of eloquence, Your Majesties, as we attempt to regale you with a story. It is one I am sure you are all familiar with, but allow us to perform it for you just the same.” He flicked out the large fan in his hand, a picture of a blue sky and a green field painted on it. “We humbly present to you...the Tale of Green Pearl and the Demon!”

Yoon felt Chae-Ok grab his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He cast a sidelong glance in her direction, noting the soft pink flush that tinted her cheeks. He knew it wasn’t from the wine but more from her excitement. He smiled as she met his gaze.

“Oh, I love this story!” She looked back out toward the courtyard. “I’m interested to see how they will tell it.”

“As am I.”

The bass drum resounded through the large space just as the troupe finished setting up for the first scene. The narrator who spoke walked off to the sidelines and took a seat on a plush cushion that was provided for him. Silence draped over everyone present as the actors moved to their positions. 

“Many years ago, there was a humble man who lived a humble life. He had a humble trade and a humble wife. The wife bore him two children. A son named White Fang and a daughter named Green Pearl.”

Yoon watched as the narrator spoke about each character. One by one, they all appeared - their faces concealed with wooden masks painted in eloquent designs. Lingering off to the side was an actor clothed in black, red and gold garbs - a demon mask covering his face. Yoon felt his heart beating a little faster as he gazed at the person, unsure of why this strange sensation was lurching in his chest. 

The narrator slapped his stick against the small drum cradled in his lap. “As the seasons changed and the children grew older, the father became ill. The wife sent for what physicians they could afford and the old apothecary said that there was nothing he could do. The wife was distraught, unsure of what would become of her or her children should her husband leave this world for his journey to the afterlife.”

“Seobang-nim! You cannot leave us like this!” The wife sobbed beside the husband, cradling his hand between her palms. “What are we to do without you? How are we supposed to live?!”

“Don’t worry, Mother,” said White Fang as he placed his hand over his mother’s, “I will find a way to cure Father. I will travel across foreign lands until I can find the medicine that will save Father’s life!”

Again, the narrator struck the drum. “White Fang left to search for a cure for his ailing father, leaving his mother and sister behind.”

Yoon watched the person portraying Green Pearl moving toward the backdrop meant to pose as a wide open field. A lone tree stood off in the distance where she clasped her hands together and prayed. 

“Gods of Heaven, I beseech you! Please help my father. Please find a way to help him get better!” cried Green Pearl as she lowered her head, all but sobbing into her hands.

Heavy drums beat softly, signaling an ominous transition. Yoon watched as the actor portraying the demon slowly moved forward, until he was mere feet from the Royal Banquet table. The Demon whipped his head around to face the Royal family, causing everyone to lean back and gasp. 

All except Yoon.

Maybe it was the optical illusion of the mask, but he swore that the demon was looking directly at him. His heartbeat escalated, a soft thunder against his chest, and he waited for the demon to speak. There was a line here. Yoon remembered it. A line where the demon spoke to the audience of his wicked scheme.

But the demon said nothing. All he did was stare. Had the actor forgotten his lines?

“A demon heard Green Pearl’s cries, intrigued by her earnest wailings.”

The narrator cut through the silence. This seemed to wake the demon up, causing him to swiftly shuffle back a few steps as he threw his arm out in a dramatic flourish. 

“The sweet sound of sorrow nourishes my heart,” the Demon exclaimed, curling his shoulders forward. He pressed a hand against his face, fingers gliding over the white fangs on the mask. “It is the sound of easy prey. How I have longed to devour such a miserable soul!”

He heard the Crown Princess gasp as the Demon ran forward, leaping into the air and landing on the tightrope with amazing ease. Yoon quirked a brow, internally admiring the actor’s swiftness and balancing abilities. The Demon leaned forward, slinging his legs out until he was hanging upside down from the rope. 

Green Pearl took a sharp intake of breath, clutching at the front of her dress. “W-Who goes there?”

“A humble and curious Demon. But nevermind me, Sweet Child.” The Demon spoke in a cooing and sweet voice. “What seems to be ailing you? What causes you to mourn so?”

“My father is ill and there is no way to save him. My brother has left to travel in hopes of finding medicine to cure him.” Green Pearl turned away from the Demon, looking off in the distance. “I mourn for my family and what is to become of them should my father pass.”

The Demon laughed, swinging his body so that he was now sitting upright on the tightrope. He rested a hand on his knee and leaned forward, drawing Green Pearl’s attention once more. “This is a simple problem with a simple solution.”

“It is anything but simple!”

“Oh, but it is!” The Demon hopped onto the rope, bouncing up and down in a playful manner. “Because I know how to save your ailing father!”

Green Pearl stepped toward the tree, her hand reaching up toward the Demon but she was far out of his reach. “What do you know? Please, tell me how to save my father!”

The Demon bounced on the rope a few more times before dismounting, landing just a few feet away from her. He placed his hands behind his back and paced, not really bothering to stray too far from her but not coming too close. “There is a flower that grows in the western mountains. It is said that creating a potion from this flower can cure any illness.” He spun on his heels just as Green Pearl tried to approach him, causing her to halt in her steps. “But it is an arduous journey. Many have died trying to claim this flower.”

“Can you guide me to this mountain?” 

The Demon circled her, his steps slow and measured. “What will you give me if I decide to lend you my aid?”

“Whatever you wish to claim from me, Sir!” Green Pearl fell to her knees. “No boon is too great when it comes to saving the life of my father!”

The Demon knelt down before Green Pearl, lifting her face to meet his. “You will become my bride. That is the price you must pay if you wish to obtain my help.”

“If marrying a demon is the trade we are making, then I would marry you a thousand times.” 

The Demon pulled Green Pearl up onto her feet, a hearty laugh bursting from his chest. “Then come! Let us be off! The day grows shorter and the journey will be that much harder for you when the night comes.”

A gong and more heavy drums rang out as the Demon and Green Pearl exited the stage. Troupe members hurried to change the set backdrop to suit the next scene transition. 

“So Green Pearl and the Demon hurried toward the Western Mountains. The journey was, indeed, arduous. Many perils crossed their paths, but the Demon protected Green Pearl every step of the way. The harshest trek, however, was the path leading up toward the mountains. Wild animals impeded their path. Even the cold mountain winds attempted to blow the two off the krags so they would plummet to their deaths.”

With each scene change, a linen drape with a painted landscape was swapped. The serene music fit the pacing of each scene and the narrator’s strong voice pushed the actors to continue through the skit. Yoon knew this tale very well. Yet watching it unfold in this manner made the story seem brand new. He was particularly drawn to the Demon, unable to shake the tremors in his heart as the masked performer’s moves seemed fluid and natural.

“Finally, Green Pearl and the Demon reached the top of the mountain peaks. There was the mythical flower the Demon mentioned. It was a rich purple in pigment, the stem a soft green and nestled among a cluster of clovers. In the snow and cold temperature, there was no way that any vegetation should have flourished, let alone this single flower.”

Green Pearl reached for the flower, preparing to dig it up from the earth. Suddenly, she was stopped by the Demon’s harsh pull at her wrist. “W-What are you doing?!”

“Do not forget your promise to me, dear Child.” He pulled her flush against him. “You are to be my bride the moment your father is well. And not a minute later.”

“I haven’t forgotten our deal, Demon!” Green Pearl pushed away from him. “We must hurry back quickly!”

A soft bell tinkling sound issued from a row of wind chimes. The Demon laughed, grasping onto Green Pearl and jumping up toward the tightrope. Everyone watching sucked in their breaths as a stream of dark blue fabric followed after them. The Demon dragged Green Pearl behind him as the actors portrayed him using his powers to help them travel quickly. The two actors almost appeared to float across the thick line of rope.

“The Demon used his powers to transport Green Pearl and himself down the mountain. When they reached the foot of the mountain, they instantly moved through the fields. Within minutes, they were back in Green Pearl’s humble village. He safely brought her home and Green Pearl wasted no time preparing the flower into a medicinal tonic for her father.”

Green Pearl appeared next to her mother, holding out a wooden bowl. “This tonic will help Father. Please, we must hurry!”

The Wife started to feed the potion to the ailing Husband. In minutes, he started to rise up from his bed. He held his wife’s hands and she threw herself into his arms. 

“Husband! You are well!” she cried as her husband held her close. 

He laughed, stroking her back. “Yes, I am well, Pu-in. But tell me, what has helped me come back from the gates of the Underworld?”

“I traveled far to retrieve a flower that is said to cure any illness.” Green Pearl hugged her father’s neck.

“A flower?” He tilted his head to the side. “How did you come to learn of this flower?”

Green Pearl lowered her head. “A Demon told me. He guided me to the Western Mountains and I plucked the flower from the highest peak.”

Both the husband and wife looked at each other, clutching at their chests. The father reached out for his daughter’s hands. “You foolish girl! How could you make an agreement with a demon?!”

“Don’t you know that a deal with a demon only breeds disaster?!” The mother shook Green Pearl’s shoulders. “You have sold your soul to the Underworld!”

Green Pearl pulled herself away from her family. “I’m sorry!” She ran out of the house where the Demon was waiting for her. “We must hurry!”

The Demon grabbed her hand in his. “Let us leave this place!”

“Stop right there, you foul trickster!” The Father appeared, brandishing a wheat sickle. “Release my daughter, this instant!”

The Demon laughed. “The deal has been made, Human! You cannot break the contract!” 

The sound of a gong exploded over the courtyard, causing the Demon to gasp. When he looked down, there was a sword plunged through his stomach. As he turned, the assailant stepped forward to push the blade through his gut even further. The Demon reached out with a bloodied hand toward the one who attacked him. 

“B-Brother!”

White Fang ripped the sword from the Demon’s body, causing the Demon to fall to his knees. His head hung low and Green Pearl was instantly at the Demon’s side. He finally collapsed to the ground and Green Pearl clung to his shivering form. 

“What have you done?!” she screamed as the Demon continued to tremble in her arms. “Why did you strike him?!”

“It was a Demon, Green Pearl!” White Fang dropped the sword from his hand and the satchel from his back. “They only breed misfortune!”

“Y-You fool,” sputtered the Demon, “I would have given her a good life.” A trembling arm lifted as he pointed at White Fang. “Because of your actions, you have now condemned your sister to death.”

“What?!” White Fang dropped to his knees. The husband and wife hurried forward. “What lies do you speak, Demon?”

The Demon turned to look up at Green Pearl. “I will not be able to give you a life you deserve.” He touched the side of her face. “But I will be able to stay with you in the Afterlife. Always.”

“I am sorry for the cruel nature of man! Forgive me!” Green Pearl sobbed, burying her face in the Demon’s shoulder. “I will see you on the other side.”

And then the Demon’s hand fell limply to the ground. Seconds later, Green Pearl collapsed next to him.

Silence filled the courtyard. No one spoke. Hardly anyone took a moment to breathe, Yoon included. 

It was broken the minute that the King began to clap. The Queen soon followed until everyone at the Royal Banquet table rose from their seats and applauded. Yoon was still stunned, but he, too, clapped. The actors remained where they were - unmoving. However, the narrator stepped forward and bowed deeply to them. The tragic scene remained, but the story’s message still lingered in the air. 

Even a Demon was deserving of love and a person could see beyond the surface to one’s true heart.

But when promises were broken, a terrible fate would await. 

Check out this Greek/Roman mythology collab! There are still plenty of spaces left! Come and join the fun!

𝔊𝔬𝔡𝔰 𝔄𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔘𝔰 ℭ𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔟

Time is a song of remembrance.

A song is sung to a time when the very breath of the wind carried a spirit. A song sang Back to a time when the harvest’s bounty was a celebration unto a name, where powerful beings unseen by human eyes heard every pain and sound of jubilation.

Long ago, in the faraway land of ancient Greece, there was a golden age of powerful Gods and Goddesses and their extraordinary tales. High atop Mount Olympus, shrouded in clouds lay the palatial grounds of the Olympian Gods and Goddesses. While deep below beyond the river Styx lay the realm of Hades, the home of the Gods of the Underworld, guarded by Cerberus and final resting place of souls.

These tales are now captured in pages, books, and scraps of ancient text. But what if there was a chance? What if the subtle energy floating in the air meant something more?

What if there could be - Gods Among Us?

Here in this collab we will focus on the major and minor deities of Greek Mythology. Will you hear a voice that flings you back to an unknown era? Or will you wish so fervently to be heard that you stir something that’s long been sleep?

Gods Among Us Event Schedule:

 Applications open: 06.08.2021

 Applications close: 08.01.2021

 Synopsis drop: 08.15.2021

 Posting begins: Anytime after sign up

 Posting ends: 08.29.2021

 Masterlist drops: 8.30.2021

Requirements:

 Anyone can join! All ages are welcomed, as long as you’re a writer or content creator. (AO3 content creators are also welcome to join!)

This is a multi fandom collab.

You may only choose one idol for this collab (this is may change once the sign ups close)

All content should include one KPOP girl/boy group member in some way and some form of Greek God/Deity.

 2k is the minimum word count, with no limit on how much you write or how many fics.

 Oneshots, two shots, and series are permitted as long as everything is completed by the event deadline.

 Pairings accepted: mxr, mxoc, mxm, or platonic

 If you are under the age of 18, smut is prohibited. No exceptions!

Must be willing to join discord server!

The list of gods/deitys are here 

These are the following groups you can write for in the collab (there will be three slots for each member per group, excluding any members the admins choose to write for):

Boy groups: 2PM, A.C.E., Ateez, BTS, CIX, EXO, GOT7, Monsta X, NCT (all units), Oneus, Seventeen, SF9, Shinee, Victon, Vixx

Girl Groups: Apink, Blackpink, Brave Girls, CLC, Dreamcatcher, Everglow, Exid, G-Idle, GWSN, Itzy, Loona, Mamamoo,  Red Velvet, SNSD (Girls Generation), Twice 

To join:

Like and reblog this post.

Read the rules.

Apply here.

Rules for Content:

When it comes to posting your work, please make sure the format below is before the ‘read more’ cut:

o   pairing(s): (mxm, mxr, mxoc, no pairings, etc.)

o   genre(s): (AUs, fluff, angst, smut etc.)

o   disclaimers/warnings: (disclaimers/warnings:none /or NSFW content)

o   word count

Trigger & Smut Warnings and Disclaimers need to be clearly stated before the ‘read more’ cut! We will not be accepting noncon or dubcon, no matter the warnings stated!

Any stories containing topics that are considered taboo (sexualizing minors, incest, animal abuse, pedophilia, glorifying self-harm or mental illnesses and abuse in any form, etc.) will NOT be accepted and will result in your termination from the event.

All written work that is over 500 words or includes NSFW content must be under a “Read More” cut!

Credit beta readers, gfx makers, etc., if they’ve assisted you. If you use gifs/graphics, or any other content belonging to someone else, make sure to credit the content creator correctly (if they have given you permission!). Plagiarism WILL NOT be tolerated and will result in your removal from the event!

If you’re posting to AO3, create a new text post with a link and follow the above format.

Tag your work using #godsamongus

Discord(Mandatory):

Once accepted, an admin will send you an invite to the server so you can keep up with announcements and chat with your fellow content creators about your works!

General Rules for Event:

This applies to the actual event, and the discord server: Disrespect, harassment, bullying to any member of this event will not be tolerated. We want to be kind and respectful to everyone. If you ever feel uncomfortable, please reach out to one of the admin, and we will handle the situation accordingly. In the discord, we will keep all conversations on the appropriate level, which means that if there’s anything that you may have to say, please use the spoiler to conceal those terms. Please remember and be advised that this event will involve minors. With that being said, please be sure to keep your conversations in the appropriate channels. Any NSFW topics are prohibited in the SFW chats. password= Peisinoe. Lastly, if you feel uncomfortable with the discussion in discord, please use the safeword Soteria. All conversations must stop at that point, and the subject must change. We want all of our participants to feel safe.

Good day 🥺

Thanks to you it is!

🤤😏💖

Acceptance Post, second round

I apologize for the delay, real life got in the way BUT we would like to announce our second round of acceptance for the Noona Sin Network! Thank you so much to everyone who applied! If you applied and do not see your name on this list, please let me know! Some of our applications came through this round with no username/tumblr name added, so we had no way to contact the individuals. If this sounds like it could be you, please DM one of the admins and we can get it corrected!  Applications are still OPEN: if you’re interested in applying, please check out our welcome page.

In no particular order, we would like to welcome:

@star-lemonade , @aroseforyoongi, @sugasbabiie, @yutasgalaxy, @thebiasrekkers​

unable to tag: @gotparadise 

Thank you again to everyone that applied! Please make sure to reblog this post so we know you’ve seen it. If you marked that you were interested in joining the discord, please double check that your DMs are open, as we will be sending the link shortly.

The Witching Hour: Fly with Me

Pairing: idol! I.M. x POC Female

Type:  One Shot

Genre: Smut, Idol au

Links: FAQ || MONSTA X Masterlist || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

WC: 2.2k

Warning:  Switch!I.M, established relationship, unprotected sex, oral [f receiving], cockwarming, multiple orgasms, back at it with the Amazon position shenanigans [classic and kneeling], messydreamy sex, pining?? [he makes me wanna write poems and i don’t understand it. ;.;]

A/N : poem /spoken bolded words are mine. Moodboard by me. Again this mofo makes me flowery and fucking poetic. I don’t know why, that’s the vibe. So here’s another longer installation into this...series of moments. Wanna make your friends feel better? Write something for them. 

The Witching Hour - pt 1

Songs: Horizon - I.M.,  시든 꽃(flower-ed) - I.M

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A boy thinks about a girl that sets his soul ablaze. Thousands of miles separate them again, as they are want to do. The distance makes him frigid, unable to find warmth in the burn of the sun at high noon. He feels empty, void of even the most base emotions. He lives in a world of black, white, and brown alcohol with no ice. 

How do I see you?

Because the ice kills the burn, he wants the burn so that he can feel it. 

Strong. 

A boy thinks about a girl that sets his soul ablaze. The tapestry of the world passes him by as he travels to and fro. Faces are dark and bland, but he hears the sound of their jubilation. He hears the sounds of their admiration - for them. 

For him. 

Soft encased in steel.

His eyes are bright, nonetheless, as the flames of a performer burn within him. It races his blood, heats his skin, quenches a thirst now and again. But he misses her. He craves her. 

He wants her. 

Weary of the world.

A warm, sepia-toned vision fueled by heaven and hell. She gave him yin and yang. She gave him pleasure and pain. She offered, and he inhaled it as life itself. She gave him vibrancy, and he knelt at her feet. He prayed to her altar in the most earnest of ways. He prayed that she would continue to bless him. He prayed that she would continue to see that his world would be nothing without her inside of it. 

But yearning to find your place within it.

While inside of him - he longed to be inside of her. Complete and forgetful of the outside world, praying with her name falling from his lips. They sought enlightenment in the endorphin chase of their connected bodies. 

Beautiful to all but yourself

That was then - and now? Thousands of miles separate them, as they are want to do. 

Precious to me

--My Air--

Stop that. I can feel your mind wandering in my direction.

I see a goddess, regal. 

His phone vibrated on a desk in another hotel room. His eyes slid to the message that popped up across the screen. Lips lifted in the barest of smirks as his fingers swiped across the keyboard of his phone. He was writing sonnets, poems, and confessions. He erased them all, the overspill of his bleeding heart. 

And I am your throne.

--The Poet--

I miss you.

--My Air--

You always say that.

--The Poet--

I always mean it.

I am your gilded seat.

--My Air--

Kyun...

--The Poet--

Please. Come to me. 

“I’m so fucking selfish,” he muttered to himself with a bitter laugh. 

The phone was tossed to the side of the bed as he laid an arm across his forehead. The gentle patter of rain lulled him to sleep. He dreamed about random things, images of strange things twisted and warped inside of his subconscious. He finally zeroed in on the thing he wanted the most. Right before he could indulge in that wispy figure - his phone vibrated again. 

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes because he refused to believe the message - an address. He balked momentarily before grabbing a mask and his hat while shoving his wallet into his jeans. There’s apparent confusion on his face as he punched the button for an elevator. He was nervous and anxious by the time the Uber came around.

He bit into the tip of his fingernail as the ride crested into the thirty-minute mark. And then it was over. He was slightly outside the city. He paid the driver a hefty tip before stepping out into the rain. The modern cut of the two-story home seemed to loom ominously as he looked at his phone. He doesn’t care about the rain soaking him through as he texted her back. 

--The Poet--

I’m here.

Take your place upon me.

“So am I,” a familiar voice responds as the door opens. He’s at the top step, skin steaming as he reaches for her. He looks pitiful, letting the rain seep into his clothes. They stare at each other, erasing the world down to their existence. 

He claims her in a rush, breaking enough to lock the door. She pushes the jacket from his shoulders. He presses his wet body against hers, and he is whole. Their tongues tangle together as he dips enough to grab the back of her thighs. He maneuvers enough for the hat and shirt to be discarded. 

He was finally bare-chested, moist, and burning against the thin fabric of her t-shirt and flimsy pajama shorts. He could feel the heat of her against his abdomen. His fingers grazed through the soft coils of her hair. “How?” He ate at her mouth, teeth tugging at the sweet gloss of her bottom lip. “How are you here?” 

Her legs were locked with a vice grip at his sides. She shook her head, a finger placed to his lips. “Let me ease your burden,” she offered a dulcet purr of sound as he stepped back until his legs hit the edge of a bed. There was the scent of sandalwood and dragon’s blood in the air. A scattering of candles bathed them in soft light. All the things that called to his dark poetic heart. 

And face the world... 

He released her, letting her slide down the hard rippled planes of his body. He dropped to his knees, burying his face in the soft flesh of her stomach. His fingers dug desperately into her hips as he inhaled the scent of her. Her fingers ran through the wet strands of his hair. His fingers slid under her shirt, which she promptly removed. She reached for the waistband of her shorts, and he stopped her. 

She saw the hungry gaze in his eyes and let her hands fall away. She knew that look; he made sure she did. A soft smirk lifted the corner of her mouth. A fingernail raised the point of his chin. “Then make your offering.” 

He pressed his face against her covered heat. He knew there was nothing beneath these shorts. He could feel that wet spot growing beneath his lips. He ghosted over the pajama-covered imprint of her pussy. He knew its shape and its secrets. He opened his mouth and sucked at the cloth that kept him from that treasure. He pulled the fabric taut until it slithered between the lips of her pussy. He could taste her with each pull, his tongue snaking out to tease her clit. Sucking furiously until a wanton moan bubbled out of her. 

He yanked the shorts down while he leaned his back against the edge of the bed. He pulled her forward. That hungry took in the length of her body, a warm sepia tone glistening in the dark. 

And all his.

He palmed her ass, bringing her forward until his mouth was in a perfect position. The first tentative flick of his tongue had her thrusting toward his mouth. “Use me,” he said with another flick. “Take me.” The flat pad of his tongue pressed against her clit, sliding down toward the entrance of her sex. Trying to collect her taste, lewd wet sounds of his tongue stirring the slick that pooled. 

His cock was trapped in the tight wet fabric of his jeans. She settled over his face, looking down at him. He noted the look of possession in her eyes as she grabbed a handful of his hair. He moaned into her pussy, tongue out and stiff as she fucked herself on his face. A hand raised to capture a breast, fingers pinch tugging at her nipples. 

She switched from a slow, languid pace, steadily increasing as her pleasure built. He could feel the quiver in her thighs, the clench of her pussy on the tip of his tongue. She threw her head back as he pulled her forward. He opened his mouth wide to take all of her in. A rapid flick of his tongue and the sneak of a ring-studded finger had her crying his name. 

She fell forward, shaking as he pumped her through the explosion. He was sure he came in his jeans, and it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he was inside of her. She gasped for air, her body shaking as she moved to the side to fall on the bed. She heard the thunder in her ears, and she was sure it was the storm outside. 

It couldn’t have anything to do with how he ate her like a main dish. Her eyes felt like marbles in her skull. She leaned up on her elbows as their gazes met. He slipped the finger covered in her essence in his mouth again. 

Her head tilted to the side as he stood, her foot lifting to press gently into the outline in his jeans. “Take them off.” 

Head high.

He reached for the button, the zipper, their gazes still locked. The band of Versace underwear was barely in the frame before he sprung up hard against his stomach. He felt her eyes on him as he grabbed the base of his cock. It was as if his body wept for her attention. 

She sat up, leaning forward, her tongue swirling to collect the taste of him. His eyes rolled shut as she lapped at the angry tip of his cock. He looked down as those plush lips engulfed the head. He prayed he wouldn’t blackout as she tried to take him all in. “Baby, fuck, not like this. I don’t know if I can last.” There was mischief in her eyes as she moaned. The vibration had him curling his toes into the floor. 

Because…

It happened fast - she turned and pushed him down on the bed. She flung her leg over his waist. He grabbed at his cock, holding it straight. “You’re beautiful.” 

She rubbed the slick of her pussy against the head of his cock. He grits his teeth as she lowered in small shallow pulls. Her hands pushed the shiny crimson-tinted coils above her head. Looking down at his face as she sucked him in bit by bit, inch by inch, with each swivel of her hips. 

Changkyun was no small feat to take in. 

She knew that he could kiss her cervix open if she wasn’t careful. His hands slid against her inner thighs as she rocked him into her body. The squelching noises echoed in the dark space of the room. Then finally, she had him completely and totally inside. She settled down on her throne, utterly full of him.

She rocked her hips in a slow drag, figure eight. He growled, digging painted fingernails into the meat of her hips. She worked her lower body, mouth open on a soft pant. He was in the best kind of agony, ready to cum at any second. “Make love to me,” he says, strained. 

Because to me…

She lifts up just enough to get his legs on the outside of her own. She rakes her nails down his inner thighs; takes great satisfaction feeling him pulse inside of her. She smoothes her hands up the rippled planes of his abs, rocking her hips into him. 

And he feels it, the switch in position as he wraps his legs around her. He could feel her clit sliding across his shaft. He could feel the drip of her arousal down his inner thighs. She moves her hands behind his knees, rocking her body into him at a brutal pace.

“You’re so pretty like this. Letting me fuck you so good like this.” She moans, feeling that molten pool in the pit of her stomach—the electricity at the base of her spine. “Tell me something pretty….” She uses his words against him. 

But he can hardly think watching her fuck him. Looking up at her like the amazon that she is. Vital, beautiful to everyone but herself, and all his. He reaches forward, grabbing more of her ass, forcing her to ride him just a bit harder. 

“You are my Queen.” He moans, pulling her down to devour her mouth. His legs lock around her as pussy quivers around him. She feels like home, and he never wanted to leave. “Come for me….” He breathes against her lips. “Come with me….” 

Their bodies crashed together as their voices rose without care. Lewd, wet body slapping sounds, breathing stops and starts. He cries out first, arms wrapping around her, holding him close to her. He shakes so hard, scared this is a sordid dream, as he chants her name like a prayer.

The orgasm rocks her, blurs her vision, fills her ears with the sound of his prayer. She feels like she’s left her body, but he holds her. He pours his load into her; it mixes with hers, streams down her thighs, and creams his cock.

They pant, drained and spent but locked in a sticky embrace. 

He can’t hear anything for the first few minutes. Her hips still held him captive, and the tiny undulations were driving him mad. Finally, he cups her ass, pushing into her with two long, deep strokes.

He cums again and sees stars. He sees his universe stretch out into the crimson coiled halo laid on his chest. He softens inside of her, but he stays. The aftershocks of their lovemaking sent shivers up his spine. He pushes the hair from her face. 

He watches her bite her lip, lifts her gaze to his, and he’s reminded once more. “You’re so beautiful.” 

Because you are the Queen of my soul.

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